There's Always Room For... Somewhere around a decade and a half ago, at a small dinner party in Staunton, Virginia, Vickie Powers served a dessert that knocked everybody out.

She served it in a tall champagne flute and, at first, we thought it was a drink. It was a slightly cloudy pink, the color of a light rosi wine, with a dollop of sweetened whipped cream on top although people initially thought that the cream was foam. A single perfect grape, suspended a half-inch above the bottom in each flute, was the only clue to what it may have been.

It was "rosi wine jelly" and consisted of the wine, a little sugar, a squeeze of orange juice, a dash of lemon juice and some gelatine. Vickie's husband, Tom, said it was her little secret recipe that never failed to get raves. She said it had been in her family for years and she'd read somewhere that it had been a favorite in Victorian England.

After she made me go through some serious whining and grovelling, she gave me the recipe. I asked her what she called it. "Wine jelly, " she said. "Not dramatic enough, " I said. Since it was from Queen Victoria's reign and was Vickie Powers' secret recipe, we called it "Victoria's Secret." Some of you are smirking.

It seems that my education was incomplete. After we'd been serving Victoria's Secret for a couple years, one day there appeared in our mail a catalog for a company called Victoria's Secret. It featured lots of near-naked women modelling lots of virtually invisible underthings. Except for the ones intended to be seen, and they screamed tiger stripes or incomprehensible straps and buttons or else frothed with great billows of transparent lace or mesh.

Hey, all I was trying to do was make our version of homemade Jello for grown-ups. Next thing you know, we're up to our you know what in underwear; so to speak. Whew.

We left it on the menu but sales pretty abruptly fell off. The servers were suddenly self-conscious about inviting people to try the dessert. We changed the name to "Victorian Wine Jelly" and it became popular all over again. What's in a name, indeed. A rosi by any other name would taste as sweet. Begging yer pardon, Mr. Shakespeare.

Here's the recipe for the wine jelly; then we'll look at variations. Note that water and orange juice are divided.

Method: Soak gelatine in cool water for 2 or 3 minutes. Add the boiling water and stir to dissolve completely. Add remaining ingredients, mix well and pour into glasses. Chill until firm. Serve with a small dab of whipped cream.

mixture into the bottom of the glass and chill until very syrupy. Gently sink a chilled grape into the gel and fill the glass the rest of the way.

To have a clearer gel, substitute water for the orange juice and add 4 teaspoons orange extract to the boiling water. Same for the lemon juice but use one-half teaspoon lemon extract. Use a sweet white zinfandel instead of a rosi.

To make layers, pour some into a glass and chill solid. Add the next layer and repeat. It takes time but it certainly isn't hard work. To get interesting effects, tilt the glasses so the layers form diagonal patterns. Or put fruit into every other layer. Or put plastic wrap tightly over the end of the glass and lay it down flat and chill it solid. Add the other color(s) and serve. People will wonder.