The Tiramisu

I’m not a chef. I’m not a cook. I’m not a baker. So when my husband and I were asked for dinner and told to bring a dessert, I panicked. I don’t even keep flour in the house, let alone vanilla, sugar, baking soda or powder, or even a suitable dish that would house said dessert.

I guessed that I could buy a tin foil pan and melt some chocolate bits and pour it over some pre-made cake bits and then layer on some cool whip and call it a day (or call it a dessert), but there was an added challenge to my mission. She’s not eating chocolate. She gave it up for lent. I admired her dedication, though it did throw a wrench in my plans.

(You might remember that I gave up food porn for lent, and that lasted all of about four days before I got sick with the streptococcus and I soothed my sore throat with a Come Dine With Me marathon, lentil soup and artisan bread. FYI: Come Dine With Me is an absolutely brilliant UK import where five people take turns hosting a dinner party each night of the week. They each make an appetizer, entrée, and dessert. The other guests rate them from 1 to 10 and the person with the top score takes home a £1000 cash prize.)

At the supermarket I scanned the baking aisle for a ready-mix product that would impress our dinner hosts, and that I could claim as my own. I passed up the Betty Crocker cakes, muffin mixes, and cans of icing. The Come Dine With Me marathon had inspired me. The hosts always made elaborate desserts that their guests raved over. I wouldn’t mind a rave or two.

I called my husband at work and asked him to google Tiramisu and to tell me all the things I would need to buy in order to make a Tiramisu and then tell me how to make a Tiramisu, and quickly. He began listing off things that go in a Tiramisu: Marsala wine and raw egg yolks? I called foul.

I decided to skip the recipe routine and do what I always do. I bought some whip cream and decided to get creative (buying whip cream isn’t what I always do, getting creative is what I always do). Whip cream, like bacon, chocolate, and television marathons, makes everything better.

When I got home I took out a bowl and my electric mixer. I put whip cream, sugar, cream cheese, two shots of espresso, and a few shots of rum and mixed on high for about five minutes. I then poured the mixture over some crumbled up biscuits and put it in the fridge.

I licked the beaters and then the spatula. It tasted like heaven. If heaven tastes like a coffee-ish whipped cheesecake… and I think it does. Let the raves begin.

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