No, really. I would seriously make out with the genius who came up with something as goddamned divine as tiramisu because he (or she) obviously had one sexy mother of a brain. Tiramisu is the absolute definition of food porn – decadent, really bad for you, utterly impossible to resist, boozy and caffeinated. Brilliant.
My luck, the inventor was probably some stinky beast of a 17th Century cook, slaving away in the bowels of a remote Italian estate to please a spoiled fop of a minor lord with rotten teeth and too much cologne. In which case, I may have to re-evaluate the desire to make out with said dessert creator.
My love affair with this particular Italian dessert has been a life-long obsession from the very first bite. And that’s saying a lot, because I’m pretty sure my first exposure wasn’t to something made with fresh ingredients, or even necessarily made by a human, now that I think about it. Even bad tiramisu is good.
But tiramisu from scratch? With eggs laid that morning, local farm-fresh mascarpone and homemade Kahlua liqueur? Shit, who needs Channing Tatum movies.
ITEMS WE USED TO MAKE THIS RECIPE