We donned our apron in granny's kitchen. From the old wooden cabinet our nose was greeted by custard powder before chopping rhubarb picked fresh from the garden. Zesting a lemon, we combined the ingredients into the finest of trifles, with a splash of something boozy.

On the palate there was mandarin, oat milk and spice, with a silky mouthfeel from mango and honey. Water transported us to a hothouse full of flowers and pebbles, with nectarines and white grapes joining the lemon and mandarin. The palate was now very tropical, with toasted coconut and passion fruit; the mouthfeel waxy, like the sticky crust atop a lemon meringue pie.