We did the unthinkable this week. No, I am not talking about skydiving, or one of those quit-your-job-to-pursue-your-passion things. We had already done those, about two mid life crises ago. I am talking about setting out to make that pinnacle of desserts, the one “foodies” all over the world claim to know the exact authentic taste of. The Tiramisu. The previous two weeks of cooking has generated much amusement and interest amongst our friends. Amusement because the resolution we made was not the resolution Gotham deserved, or needed. Interest because they wanted to partake in the spoils of the Sundays. One such family, of the #friendslikefamily type, expressed the desire of the youngest member to eat Gawd uncle’s Italian cuisine. Dates were discussed, menu options were thrown around and long story short, we invited ourselves to their place. The woman of this house, who is the better cook, offered to make Spaghetti Bolognese with a side of fish. Considering how this all started because we were cooking fancy stuff, we offered to bring something to add to the mix. I suggested soup to il marito. Pappa al pomodoro. I am a closet soup fan. So closeted that I haven’t admitted that to myself. So deep in the closet that I would sooner fall out onto the other side into Narnia than come out on this side. The suggestion was met with incredulity. I could sense him questioning the fundamental building blocks of our marriage. I wised up, and dropped it. We fixated on our favourite course of any meal, the dessert. He gave the matter grave consideration and chose the tiramisu. Il marito is incredibly brave. It turns out Tiramisu is one of those recipes that is very simple on the face of it, and for that very reason, quite difficult to get right. We managed to find the ladyfinger biscuits at our gourmet store, ensuring we reduce our failure rate by at least 50%. Let’s talk about these biscuits and their nomenclature for a moment. These are a delicate, airy, sweet sponge biscuit variety that are a main ingredient in many desserts. They have a wikipedia page dedicated to them. You see these to the left of the picture below. And in the middle, you see the other kind of ladies fingers known to give Indian kids the ability to understand calculus. Wikipedia gently directs you to the Okra page if you want to know more about them. On the extreme right, are what actual ladies’ fingers look like. That is before we get into nail art and the associated horror. Wikipedia does not acknowledge their existence. Now, for more asynchronous learning, spot 6 differences among the three pictures The other ingredient that goes into the tiramisu is a mixture of eggs, mascarpone cheese, cream and sugar. The eggs of course, needed to be separated into yolks and whites and by their birth order. These ingredients were then mixed into three different combinations and beaten until different types of “peaks” were formed. They were all then folded into each other. Yes, folding is different from beating, which is different from whisking, which is different from spoonfuls of tasting during the making. Not to mention, there is a “gentle” version to all of these. Two hours later, when all of these were beaten into submission, the tiramisu was layered and shoved into the chiller to be set. The next morning, out of the fridge, emerged a dreamy sponge. Some cocoa powder was sprinkled for special effects and we were off to our hosts’ for the evening. After generous helpings of the spaghetti and fish, the piatto centrale was brought out. An emergency meeting was held around the table on how to cut a piece with all the layers intact. Knives and spatulas were brandished about. The youngest members of the households didn’t care for the scene at all, the dessert and the excitement around it included. They had their fun by stretching the dinner to a sleepover and then not sleeping for the better part of the night. The adults had the tiramisu over an extended conversation that involved three of us ganging up against il marito. This is getting to be quite the trend nowadays. But then again, il marito is brave. The gist though, is that debates that are had during dessert never end up in blows. It’s tough because no one wants to let go of their plate of dessert, and the moves you can make with a dessert spoon in one hand and a fluffy cloud in the other are quite limited.
3 Comments
Sriram
20/1/2021 11:03:51 am
Love the tiramasu and the way you explained it
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Jamuna Sundararaman
20/1/2021 04:27:44 pm
Waiting for my turn to taste it..the writing of Tiramasu itself says it must be exotic dessert.
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Arathi Uchil
21/1/2021 06:51:38 am
Yet another good read:)
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Aishwarya KalakataThe loss of and search for individualism has never been felt more acutely. Everything changed after I had a kid. But this blog is not about me being a mom. It’s about the things I do when I want to stop being a mom. It’s about telling myself that it is possible and that it is ok. It’s about my little escapades. Mostly travel - sometimes physical, sometimes mental. A desperate bid to stop my identity from being rolled into a single word. CategoriesArchives
March 2021
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