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Tiramisu: Perfect make-ahead dessert, a reward for surviving the blistering summer heat

This tiramisu is more cake-like. Photo credit: Baker by Nature

The North State’s hot weather can leave any time now. Seriously. I’ve had it. I’ve never denied that I’m a heat weenie. But I don’t think I’ve ever admitted how much I hate our North State’s summers. Really. I hate them. The only thing redeeming about Redding’s summers is that temperatures are tolerable in the early mornings and after sundown. But everything between those two times is pure misery.

My Japanese maple tree is the latest casualty of Redding’s ongoing hot spell. The leaves are all brown, withered and crunchy. The tree might be dead. I won’t know until fall. And the formerly bright green leaves on my red geranium are yellow and rusty orange, as if they’ve literally been torched. I’m pretty sure the geranium is dead. The yard that once brought me so much joy now leaves me exasperated and sad.

This calls for a pick-me-up, and I have just the dessert that literally means “pick me up” in Italian: Tiramisu. This is a layered concoction that does not require turning on a hot stove or oven.

Long ago and far away I wrote about my honeymoon in Italy where I felt enlightened and liberated to discover that tiramisu is a forgiving shape-shifting dessert that leaves plenty of room for cooks’ creativity and individuality.

In Italy, some tiramisu was cakey, cut in squares, so firm one could eat it with a fork. Others were puddingy, so soft and smooth that only a spoon would do. Some were so boozy that they left me almost tipsy. Others were extremely generous with the mascarpone cheese, while others contained no mascarpone at all.

Before I describe how I make my tiramisu, I’m giving a shout out to the Ethiopian restaurant on Eureka Way in Redding. My sister had eaten at the restaurant and told me that in addition to having Ethiopian food, they served a delicious tiramisu. She hated to admit it, but she said that the restaurant’s tiramisu was as good as mine; maybe better.

Of course, I went to the restaurant to see for myself. I tried the Ethiopian food and had tiramisu for dessert. The tiramisu was my favorite part of the meal.

But I digress. Anyway, over the years I’ve played with a number of tiramisu variations until I finally created the kind I like.

First, I ditched the traditional sweet Marsala, and instead use a combination of rum and coffee liqueur. I like Marsala OK, but I like the rum and coffee liqueur better. There’s no rule that says the tiramisu must contain alcohol. The coffee still contributes the pick-me-up part.

My next adaptation would probably get me thrown out of most Italian restaurant kitchens, but I will not lie: I omitted the zabaglione, a traditional Italian dessert concoction made from eggs, sugar and sweet Marsala. It provides tiramisu’s creaminess.

For one thing, zabaglione is a fair amount of work over a hot stove for what I think is low return. Besides, I think the delicate zabaglione is lost among all the other tiramisu flavors. Plus, its form doesn’t hold up under the pressure from the lady fingers, whipped cream, alcohol and mascarpone cheese.

Speaking of mascarpone cheese. This is a nutty, signature flavor I never omit from my tiramisu, which is too bad since the cost for a tiny tub of this flavorful, creamy cheese practically requires a tiramisu (pick me up) from the grocery store’s floors whenever I see its $4 to $5 price tag. Oh well. I don’t make it that often, and when I do it’s usually for special occasions.

Let’s move onto lady fingers. Often, the lady fingers sold in American grocery stores’ bakery sections are super soft and oh-so delicate and spongy. They look pretty, but the truth is they become all soggy and unstable during a tiramisu chilling period.

In a perfect world, you’d use the crunchy, biscuit-like fingers from Italy, such as the Vicenzi brand ones that I’ve squirreled away and frozen when I’ve found them for sale somewhere.

If you can’t find those crisp lady fingers, don’t panic. Make a white sheet cake. Cut it up. Let it dry out a bit. Use that. It’ll be fine. Or use a chocolate cake. No law says tiramisu’s torta can only be bianca.

Now let’s talk about texture, which leads me to chocolate. To relieve the monotony of tiramisu’s creaminess, I sprinkle chocolate shavings between layers. Nobody expects that. It’s a nice surprise

Finally, we arrive at tiramisu’s shape. Aside from its glorious taste, the other thing I love about tiramisu is how easily it conforms to almost any container. I’ve made it in tiny, individual dishes lined with plastic wrap, and then later inverted those onto small plates. I’ve made tiramisu in large lasagna pans for a crowd.

I’ve made tiramisu in a glass bowl, lined with plastic wrap. Later the bowl can be inverted so the dome-shaped tiramisu falls easily onto a plate. All that’s left to do is dust it with cocoa powder and sprinkle it with chocolate curls.

Bella!

Please do not think tiramisu is difficult to prepare. It’s really not. In fact, once you assemble the ingredients, the layering process is similar to making lasagna.

And just like lasagna, where everyone makes theirs a bit differently, so it goes with tiramisu. It can look military perfect, with straight, precise edges and lines of demarcation between the layers. Or it can be prepared in small dishes for individual desserts, refrigerated and served within several days.

Granted, it’s pretty rich; not the kind of dessert to have every day. But there are some especially brutal summer days when we need a pick-me-up. Maybe skip dinner altogether and go straight for the tiramisu. I don’t know about you, but I will blame Redding’s blasted summer temperatures for my lapse in nutritional judgement.

Buon appetito!

Sorry to interrupt just before the recipe, but here’s a reminder that if you appreciate A News Cafe, and if you like award-winning journalist Doni Chamberlain’s writing and reporting, please help support this awesome locally owned website. Thank you! 

Doni’s Best Tiramisu

1 cup mascarpone cheese, room temp
½ cup powdered sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 ½ cups whipping cream, well chilled
1 package lady fingers
2/3 cup freshly brewed espresso*
1/8 cup granulated sugar
¼ cup rum
¼ cup coffee liqueur
1 chocolate bar (about 3 to 4 ounces), shaved or grated
1/8 cup unsweetened cocoa powder

Choose your tiramisu container. If you plan to just scoop out the tiramisu, there’s no need to prepare the pan. Tip: A springform pan is a great tiramisu container.

However, if you plan to later invert the tiramisu from its pan onto a serving plate, first line the container (loaf pans, lasagna pan, bowl, individual dishes, etc.) with heavy plastic wrap, leaving some draped over the edges. Set the prepared vessel(s) aside.

Using a mixer, whip the whipping cream until it holds soft peaks. Set aside. In another bowl, using the same beaters (no need to clean them), cream the mascarpone cheese with the powdered sugar and vanilla.

Now gently fold together the mascarpone cheese mixture and the whipped cream until they’re well incorporated. Cover and chill.

Meanwhile, mix together the hot espresso, sugar, rum and coffee liqueur. *Regarding the espresso, if you don’t have an espresso machine or a stove-top espresso maker, dissolve 2 tablespoons instant coffee in 2/3 cup boiling water.

To assemble: Pick up one lady finger and gently dip it – lengthwise – into the coffee-liqueur mixture. Do this quickly, because the lady fingers will behave like very little unladylike sponges and suck up too much liquid. Place the wet lady finger in the bottom of the pan.

Repeat until the entire bottom of your container is covered with dipped lady fingers. (Note: If you’re using floppy cake instead of firm lady fingers, just put the cake in the pan, and brush it with the liquid.)

Spread about 1/3 of the mascarpone cheese/whipped cream mixture over the lady fingers. Sprinkle with a light layer of the grated chocolate and dust with some cocoa powder.

Repeat these steps and layers, ending with the mascarpone cheese/whipped cream layer, the sprinkled chocolate and finally, a dusting of cocoa powder.

Cover with plastic wrap (if it’s draped from acting as your container’s liner, just bring the plastic up and over the tiramisu).

Refrigerate at least 4 hours to allow the flavors to meld. (It will be fine in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.)

Cut into wedges or spoon into bowls or onto plates.

Or, if inverting onto a plate, uncover the tiramisu and get the plastic out of the way. Place a plate over the tiramisu. With one hand on the bottom of the plate and the other hand on the bottom of the tiramisu, flip everything so the plate rests on the counter. Lift the container from the tiramisu and remove the plastic.

Serves 10 to 12.

Doni Chamberlain

Independent online journalist Doni Chamberlain founded A News Cafe in 2007 with her son, Joe Domke. Chamberlain holds a Bachelor's Degree in journalism from CSU, Chico. She's an award-winning newspaper opinion columnist, feature and food writer recognized by the Associated Press, the California Newspaper Publishers Association and E.W. Scripps. She's been featured and quoted in The Wall Street Journal, The Guardian, The Washington Post, L.A. Times, Slate, Bloomberg News and on CNN, KQED and KPFA. She lives in Redding, California. © All rights reserved.

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