At the beginning of next month there is an event which is likely to bring the country together in a way which has not really happened since we all gave up clapping for NHS workers on our doorsteps on a Thursday evening.

This was when the realisation set in that what our heroic health workers really wanted was proper safety equipment and to be paid a decent wage for the gruelling and – literally – lifesaving work they were doing, rather than well-meaning but ultimately futile applause.

The event I’m referring to in June is of course, the extra day off work we have been given to mark the Queen's Platinum Jubilee. A poll this week showed that while there is almost universal admiration for the Queen’s 70 year devotion to duty, there is rather more patchy support for the concept of the UK’s head of state being selected purely by an accent of birth rather than, say, by democratic means.

We have been incredibly lucky that the hereditary principle has given us a monarch who has, bar a few mistakes (and which of us could claim not to have made mistakes, especially over seven decades), done a remarkable job.

But whether you are a monarchist or a republican, everybody can get behind the idea of an extra day off work – although ironically it will be those very same key workers we all applauded on our doorsteps who are the most likely to be at work and hence miss out on the bank holiday.

You may recall that in January a competition was launched to create a 'Jubilee pudding’, which would reflect contemporary Britain, in the same way that coronation chicken did in 1953. At that time, with post-war food rationing still in force, the celebratory dish of chicken and salad cream was simple and humble, while the addition of curry powder was a welcome nod to the beginnings of our multi-cultural society.

So, 70 years on, in a Britain in which more than two million families rely on foodbanks to feed their children, where many charities are having to create ‘cook-free’ handouts because too many people can’t afford to fire up their cooker, and where obesity is a national disease, what would be the winner of the jubilee competition?

Presumably a simple dish, with cheap ingredients, the diversity of our nation reflected with influences from cuisines from all over the world, and something which at least gives a nod to being healthy.

Well, no. The winner is a trifle, which in many ways is perfect: simple to make, cheap and universally popular. But in fact, the dish which has been created – lemon Swiss roll and amaretti trifle – is certainly not something which can be knocked up by most home cooks.

In fact, if you want to make it, you had better set aside all four days of the jubilee holiday to spend in the kitchen. Even for a keen cook like myself who enjoys a culinary challenge, it is needlessly complicated. And the ingredient lists is enormous: a dozen eggs, more than a litre of cream, nearly a kilogram of sugar, even four tins of mandarins (who buys these nowadays?).

The result is a hugely sweet but ultimately uninteresting feast of calories, although given that virtually nobody is going to be bothered to actually make it, perhaps that doesn’t matter. But it’s surely an opportunity missed.

Constance Spry’s coronation chicken was a dish designed to celebrate both a monarch and the democracy over which she ruled. It was simple, accessible and cheap. As a result, it has been enduring, as enduring as the Queen whose coronation lent the dish its name.

It was truly reflective of a society which was living under austerity, but which had great hope and optimism for the future, and which was open to new ideas, new cultures and new challenges. It was perfect for its time.

The jubilee trifle is the result of a competition run by an exclusive store (Fortnum & Mason), and is a dish which is only going to be accessible to those rich enough to afford the massive list of ingredients, and who have enough time to make it – or more realistically, can pay someone else to make it for them.

And it largely ignores the many and diverse food cultures with which our country is now blessed.

So a monocultural, rich man’s dish created by the posh and almost certainly out of reach of most ordinary people. Perhaps it’s a perfect dish for 2022 Britain after all.