Recently, I contemplated the merits of a religion based on the worship of fried dough. I am still of the opinion that such a faith would be advantageous to all who believed. And now that I’ve been eating fresh strawberries for over a week, I believe that this religion should also include the worship of strawberries. Cream Puff cannot live by fried dough alone. Or can she? Hmmm … a question for another post.
I’ve mentioned previously on this blog that while I love a well-made tiramisu, it’s not a dessert that I often crave. How could anyone not crave tiramisu, you ask? While I assure you that I adore mascarpone, espresso and all of the other ingredients that go into a tiramisu, the problem is that for the longest time, it was the dessert of choice for every event from birthdays to baptisms to anniversaries. It appeared during every holiday and sometimes it even showed up mid-week for no other reason than it gave one the excuse to eat mascarpone.
And then it happened.
One of the worst food crimes ever to cross Cream Puff’s path. I actually came across a tiramisu made with fake whipped topping instead of mascarpone. That was it! I turned my back on tiramisu and all those who dared to forego the mascarpone in the interest of saving a few dollars. When it appeared on the table, I simply looked the other way.
I understand that mascarpone is expensive, not to mention hard to find. I understand that ladyfingers (known as savoiardi in Italian) can also be difficult to locate. I understand that not everyone likes espresso. This is why tiramisu is not meant to be eaten every blessed day. This is the problem with the world we live in. We find something we like and then we make it to death. tiramisu is a treat. It should be enjoyed on rare occasions. Savoured. Admired. Respected.
So for several years, I lived a tiramisu less life. And then this past April, I picked up a copy of Bon Appetit and was intrigued for within its pages lay a recipe for Strawberry tiramisu. Could this be the recipe that would make Cream Puff embrace tiramisu once again? Why yes it could be! And it was!
It was glorious. Angels sang. I think there were even harps.
Admittedly, this is a departure from what we call tiramisu. It’s more of a trifle. As far as I’m concerned you can call it whatever you like. I call it good.
Praise the strawberries and pass the mascarpone!
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