Cranberry-Orange Trifle

January is almost done. We are approaching the anniversary of Marcus's birthday—he was born January 21, 2000, which means he turned eighteen on January 21, 2018, six weeks before he died. His last birthday. We celebrated it the way we always celebrated Marcus's birthday: fried chicken, mac and cheese, banana pudding, sweet tea without ice. The party was small—family and Darius and a few school friends—and Marcus sat at the head of the table looking faintly embarrassed the way teenagers look at family birthday dinners and happier than he let himself show, the way teenagers also look when they are being loved in exactly the right way.

I made banana pudding this week. Not for his birthday exactly—the day has passed—but because January called for it, because the year is young and the grief is still loud in January, because making Marcus's dessert is the closest I can get to having him here. I made it properly: real pudding, cooked on the stove, the Nilla wafers layered tight, the bananas fresh, the whipped cream made by hand because the hand-whipped cream has a different texture, a little more resistance, a little more presence, the way everything made by hand has more of the person who made it in it than the machine version does.

Calvin helped me eat it. He took two bowls, which is unusual for Calvin who is generally restrained about dessert, and I said, "You must have needed that," and he said, "I think I did," and we sat at the kitchen table on a Sunday evening in late January with the banana pudding between us and the good dishes out because Marcus's dessert deserves the good dishes and the night outside was cold and the kitchen was warm and for a few minutes it was just us, just the pudding, just the simple animal fact of being two people who love each other eating something sweet after a long and difficult year.

February is coming. February holds Valentine's Day and also, soon enough, the approach of March and what March holds. I am not thinking about March yet. I am thinking about January, about the birthday that passed, about the pudding on the table, about the year 2000 when a boy was born on a cold January night and changed our lives completely and permanently for the better and is still changing them now, from wherever he is. Still changing. Still here. Still more cheese, Mama.

I know the recipe I made that January Sunday was banana pudding — Marcus’s pudding, cooked on the stove, layered the right way, whipped by hand because that’s the only way it counts. But when I think about what that dessert actually was — the layering, the cream, the something sweet shared between two people on a cold night with the good dishes out — I think about this cranberry-orange trifle, which is that same kind of dessert in its bones: layered, made with care, beautiful in a bowl, the sort of thing you assemble slowly because the person it’s for deserves that slowness. Calvin would take two bowls of this too, I think. I think he would need it.

Prep Time: 35 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 3 hrs 35 min (includes chilling) | Servings: 12

Ingredients

1 prepared pound cake (about 16 oz), cut into 1-inch cubes
2 packages (3.4 oz each) instant vanilla pudding mix
3 cups cold whole milk
1 package (8 oz) cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup powdered sugar, sifted
1 tablespoon fresh orange zest
2 cups heavy whipping cream, cold
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 can (14 oz) whole berry cranberry sauce
1/4 cup fresh orange juice
1 tablespoon orange liqueur or additional orange juice
1/2 cup dried cranberries
Fresh mint sprigs and orange slices, for garnish

Instructions

Make the pudding layer. In a large bowl, whisk together the instant vanilla pudding mix and cold milk for 2 minutes until slightly thickened. In a separate bowl, beat the softened cream cheese with an electric mixer until smooth, then add the powdered sugar and orange zest and beat until combined. Fold the pudding into the cream cheese mixture until smooth and uniform. Set aside.
Whip the cream by hand. Pour the cold heavy cream into a large chilled bowl. Using a balloon whisk, whip the cream vigorously in large circular motions, lifting the cream as you go. After 4–5 minutes of steady whisking, add the granulated sugar and continue until the cream holds soft, billowy peaks. The texture will be slightly more resistant and present than machine-whipped cream — this is the point.
Make the cranberry-orange sauce. In a small bowl, stir together the whole berry cranberry sauce, fresh orange juice, and orange liqueur until loosened and spoonable. Fold in the dried cranberries.
Layer the trifle. In a large trifle dish or deep glass bowl, arrange half the pound cake cubes in an even layer. Spoon half the cranberry-orange sauce over the cake, letting it soak in slightly. Spread half the pudding-cream cheese mixture over the cranberry layer. Spoon half the hand-whipped cream over the top in generous dollops. Repeat all layers — cake, cranberry sauce, pudding, whipped cream.
Chill before serving. Cover the trifle loosely and refrigerate for at least 3 hours, or overnight. The layers will settle and meld together into something better than the sum of their parts.
Garnish and serve. Just before serving, tuck fresh mint sprigs and thin orange slices around the top edge of the trifle. Serve with a large spoon that reaches all the way to the bottom, so every bowl gets every layer. Use the good dishes.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cranberry-Orange Trifle — A Layered Dessert for the Nights You Bring Out the Good Dishes