I thought I'd include Tiramisu in my first post because I've grown to love this dessert and this recipe. Too many readily-available tiramisus are, to me, disappointingly bland and boring and OVERPRICED- I think nothing compares to a dessert you have complete control over. It's also comforting to know that something that many upscale restaurants and expensive casual-dining venues offer as luxuriant and chi-chi is actually so simple to make at home- and satisfyingly so.
The first time I had tiramisu was in a very charming restaurant in Novena Square called Skylight Garden. It's since closed down, but I'll always remember their tiramisu. Not, on hindsight, because it was one of the most classically accurate of renditions, but because it was my first taste of something that was, at that time, not as ubiquitous as it is today- and, besides, it was delicious. The cold custard (or sabayon/zabaglione) was creamy, smooth, subtly and eggily perfumed. The sponge layers were also well soaked, nothing overdone and well-balanced throughout. At least that's how I think I remember it, and how I've striven to make my tiramisu over the few years since I started trying out various recipes.
ANYWAY, the picture above is NOT mine. It belongs to the people at Global Sounds Cafe (http://www.globalsounds.com.sg/), for whom I helped make desserts for a while. I've since left, and, having made tiramisu week after week after week during my stay with GS, have developed a recipe that hasn't failed me since. This tiramisu is still available at Global Sounds, and, being made with the same, freshy ground and brewed coffee they serve by the cup, is a very good rendition.
Equipment and serving stuff
1. Preparing stuff:
- If you're using the wine glasses or little cups/ramekins, break the finger biscuits into roughly 1" pieces, and keep aside.
- When you separate the eggs, try and get as little white in with the yolks, and certainly, no yolks in the whites.
- Make the espresso early, sweeten with 1-2 tbs sugar, and let cool to room temperature.
2. In a bowl, beat the egg yolks and sugar until thick and pale. You can leave a slight trail of ribbon that will mound and then flatten quickly into the rest of the mixture. I believe this stage is very important because whenever you do this kinda work with eggs, it's essential that the eggs are beaten to the right stage, or they won't have binding power, and you'll get thin and drippy results.
3. In a small bowl, or in the package-tub, beat the cheese until slightly softened but not creamy. Gradually beat into the egg yolk mixture until well combined. Do this on medium-high speed. Don't overbeat, the goal is to incorporate, not to introduce air. The heat from the beaters also tends to soften the cheese if you go at it for more than 5 minutes, so don't be overly conscientious. Scrape down and incorporate the unmixed stuff with a spatula. Keep aside or, in a very warm kitchen, cover and set in the fridge.
4. Throw a pinch of salt in with the egg whites and, in a medium bowl, beat on high speed until they form stiff peaks. This part is quite essential- you don't want soft peaks or your custard layer will lack body and will be drippy or watery. They form stiff peaks when you lift the beaters and the egg white foam goes up with them, and stand straight. On the other hand, I think overbeating isn't too much of an issue- if the whites are beaten until dry, it's not that big a deal. The resulting foam will be firm, and you can cut out chunks with a spatula.
5. Take a slight mound of the whites, and fold gently into the mascaporne mixture, then gradually fold in more. I hardly think you will need all of the egg white. Just enough to give the mixture some substantial volume from the air, and a lightness of texture. About 75% of the whites should suffice. Be sure to fold gently and thoroughly. You don't want any lumps of egg white, but you don't want to deflate the mixture either. Make sure to fold from the bottom up. The result will be thick, softly yellow like the faintest good cream. By this token it is creamy and voluptuous, not drippy and watery.
6. The worst is over, and we can assemble.
- For ramekins, wine glasses or little cups: This is really a matter of taste, but I usually do 5-6 pieces of biscuit at the bottom of the little glass. I first dip each piece into the coffee- very slightly, for just a second, enough to moisten the biscuit. I then sprinkle a tiny teaspoon of rum over the layer. Then lop about 1 1/2 tbs of the custard over the layer, and repeat. The second layer should have 6-7 pieces, but only if your glass tapers downwards (as in the picture above). When you sniff the dessert, you know it'll be great. Sift over cocoa powder, cover with plastic wrap and chill for at least 2 hours, and preferably overnight.
- For square tin: (If planning to serve cake-style) Neatly line the pan with plastic wrap. Spread half the custard mixture onto the base. Lay out the biscuits such that they cover the entire pan without overlapping, and without gaps. You may have to break some biscuits to fit here and there. Before doing this, lightly dip each in the coffee (laced with 2 tbs of rum). Place them soaked side up. They are sponges, after all, and the liquid will permeate over time. Cover with half the custard mixture, spreading to smooth. Repeat the layering (custard then biscuits). Cover and chill for 2 hours, and preferably overnight. 1-2 hours before unmoulding, freeze the dessert. When unmoulding, invert onto serving plate, and carefully remove the plastic wrap. Sift over cocoa powder, then loosely cover, and let sit in the fridge before serving.
7. Garnish with 1-2 coffee beans per serving.
I love the result of this tiramisu. At the end of everything, all the flavours will have succumbed to gravity, permeating every layer to reach the very bottom, where it will be most, most unctuous. When you take your first spoonful, it will be immediately light, almost airy and refreshing, and then rich and flavourful. The sharp twang of cocoa is very important. The star, though, is the custard mixture- the zabaglione. I find that if this layer is not sweet enough, the tiramisu will be bland, no matter what kind of coffee you use. I've experimented with different levels of sweetness, and 100g sugar lends just the right amount of sweetness, without becoming too sickly sweet. This is also why I use rum and not kahlua, as some might be tempted to do. Kahlua is a very sweet liquer- what I wanted to achieve was a slight alcoholic rush from the spirit, which brings out the flavour of coffee and the custard. Besides, if you use good coffee, you won't need kahlua. As far as possible, try and use freshly ground coffee- the bolder the better, as the mixing with other ingredients, as well as the chilling, tempers and softens its flavour. Starbuck's Java Roast is actually pretty good, but get the barista to grind it for you.
That said, this tiramisu isn't all about the coffee- it is about the blend of sweet custard, rum and coffee. I must stress, however, that good coffee makes good tiramisu.
The serving portions are also important, I wager, because too much of a good thing is not always wonderful. The cups I use are available from IKEA- they seem perfect for tiramisu because the best amount of sponge and custard results in layers that come up exactly to the ridged midriff of each cup. Each serving is also sufficiently light. You want to serve as many people with as much as possible, and short of doubling the recipe, this is one of the best ways to do this. Red wine glasses work too, but are more indulgent servings.
I served this dessert at my family's Christmas party last year, after a huge, Babylonian spread, and no one complained of it being too stodgy or filling- it is all in the serving size!


1 comment:
I make a Tiramisu just now. added too little syrup to my lady fingers. So the tiramisu is hard and dry oh no....
I must add more next time
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