Eton Mess Is The Classic British Dessert You Can Pull Off In 5 Minutes

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Anglophiles everywhere count plenty of foodstuffs among their reasons to love Great Britain. In the morning, you've got the full English breakfast, which varies from American plates largely by adding baked beans, mushrooms, and tomatoes to sausage, bacon, eggs, and toast. A light lunch might include more protein via a sausage roll. A traditional Sunday roast would nearly cap off what would be a very hearty day of eating. But then, Eton mess can be so light that you might actually find room for the quickly composed English dessert.

Back Stateside, some might wonder what gave Eton mess its name before they even ask what's in it (informally assembled meringue, whipped cream, and berries, usually strawberries, for the record). The British boarding school Eton College is often cited as the cradle of Eton mess, which solves the first half of the riddle. The second possible answer supposes that Eton mess started as a similar Pavlova — a treat with its own complicated origin story — before a wily dog cartoonishly squished the dessert into delicious disarray at a school event. Spot-ty history aside, that culinary canine may be responsible for Eton mess's easily replicated freeform composition. Eton mess is so easy and forgiving to make, in fact, that you can achieve paw-some results in no time.

The most time you'll have to spend even on what could be considered a traditional Eton mess is however long it takes to shop for the ingredients. You'll need fresh strawberries, a bit of sugar to taste, whipped cream, and baked meringue, which you can source in cookie form from plenty of supermarkets and grocery stores. Fresh whipped cream has the best consistency for this preparation, but you can make it ridiculously quickly, including in a Mason jar.

Eton mess is typically layered. You can portion individual servings into cute parfait or sundae cups, or make a big batch in a trifle bowl like Anchor Hocking's footed glass version. Once you're ready to literally get cracking, you'll crush the meringues to break them up a bit. A resealable plastic bag and a mallet or a rolling pin are effective, or you can just give the cookies a few whacks with your open palm. You'll also muddle the sliced strawberries until they're somewhat saucy, adding a teaspoon or so of sugar as needed as you go. Then you can begin layering the components until you've filled your vessels.

Most folks expect an Eton mess to be red, and strawberries are the standard fruit of choice, but you could, of course, use raspberries instead. You can also more or less swap whatever botanicals you wish in the privacy of your own home pâtisserie, but at a certain point, adaptations might merit a name change. Add blueberries to the mix, for example, and that red, white, and blue tableau may require a pseudonym that's more fitting when served Stateside.