Tiramisu

What is made and enjoyed in the Farm Kitchen ebbs and flows with the seasons and years. It changes. What is savored one year is disregarded the next. Much like trendy things the rest of the world goes chasing after, the Farmer’s Wife changes her mind from time to time as to what is her very favorite thing. For some time now that has been Tiramisu.

All Summer long this was made and devoured by many a visitor and friend passing an hour or three under the Wisteria that hangs softly over and around the backdoor pergola. It was seen as a Summer thing—something cool and sweet and just a tab-bit boozy. So, you can imagine the Farmer’s Wife’s surprise when this particular recipe outlived the Summer and made its way onto her Fall and Winter menus. (It even snuck into Christmas Dinner, tucked alongside the long-standing Chocolate Mousse.)

Maybe she, like others before her, wants to hang onto Summer, just a bit longer. And if you’re of that sort, may I recommend doing it in this particular way?

There are many recipes out there for Tiramisu, and many of them very good in their own way, but of course, the Farmer’s Wife made this her way. (And by her way, I mean lots more of that creamy filling to get lost in.) To do such things you will need to make one and a half cups very strong coffee (espresso is best) and let it chill. The Family all know it’s a Tiramisu day when they see the Farmer’s Wife set aside an extra-large cup from her morning’s sippings. And set aside is must be, because hot coffee is not what you’re looking for. To this coffee, she adds a half cup Kahlua. Some may use rum, but why do that, when there’s a perfectly good bottle of Kahlua sitting there, waiting and ready to be used up? This is set aside for now as the yolks from twelve large eggs are whipped with a half cup sugar of the granulated variety until all is thick and pale yellow. A half cup of the coffee-Kahlua mixture is poured into the egg/sugar mixture in a thin stream as they’re beating away. Turn off the mixer for just a second (I did mention a mixer is most beneficial for this, didn’t I? Well, it is. Either hand or stand will do.) And place in thirty-two ounces mascarpone cheese.  Begin stirring/whipping slowly. It will appear thin and you will be worried you did something wrong. You will pick up the phone to call me. To yell about all that good, wasted coffee and Kahlua (not to mention the eggs and mascarpone) and I will say to you then, just as I am saying now: Wait. Turn the mixer on high and let it whip a bit, and all will be right with the world. Just you see.

And you will, because you trust me and you have no other choice. People are coming over and they’re expecting Tiramisu, and by golly, you’re going to make it for them.

Let it whip until soft peaks form—a lot like you’re whipping cream—and set the mixture aside.

Now, you’ll need about thirty lady fingers for the next part. I know what you’re thinking. You want to make your own. Don’t. Trust me. The Farmer’s Wife had that very same thought. She went to make her own. It looks so simple she said. Who ever heard of a Farmer’s Wife buying cookies she said. Four hours later with cookies the look and shape of pancakes, she was off to the store and has been buying them ever since. The life lesson here: Not everything is worth the struggle.

It was $3.50 well spent.

You will need a nine by thirteen-inch pan, preferably of the deep, lasagna-ish variety. Take your lady fingers, one at a time, and dip them, flipping once into the reserved coffee/Kahlua mixture. (Oh—you thought that was for you to drink? No. It wasn’t.) Now, this is important and many a Tiramisu has been dumped in the trash amidst tears of angst because this very simple rule was not followed: Do not over or under dunk your fingers. Over dunked and you have a soggy mess. Under dunk and it’s crunchy—not the texture you’re going for. One second on each side. That’s it. No more, no less. The finished fingers are then placed tucked right up against each other into the pan. Once a single layer covers all, half your filling is to be spread evenly over all. Followed by another layer of fingers. And the rest of the filling. It should be right up at the top of the pan now. All it’s missing is a thick dusting of cocoa powder. Don’t cheap out on this. Go for the good stuff. The Farmer’s Wife is currently using Callebaut, but Hershey and Ghirardelli have been used in the past with equal success. To do this, get your sifter out and fill with a third cup of the good stuff and gently sway it back and forth and inch or so over the top until all is covered. Cover with plastic wrap and chill for at least four hours, preferably overnight. That’s it. Simple. Splendid. Maybe that’s why it’s hanging around the Farm Kitchen so long.

Or, it just might be that Summer thing after all. If it is, take a bite and close your eyes when you do. Do you feel it? Those gentle puffs of Summer sun? And that faint whisp of Wisteria, blowing gently in the breeze? Yes. Splendid indeed.