Tiramisu Rex

Last night I came back to Cumbria for the first time since moving to Manchester, and it really was wonderful to be home. Not half because the dining room table was covered in a home made version of one of my favourite ‘fast’ foods (which has been described as the ‘middle class version of kfc’- a quote I love), Nandos, complete with a very welcoming bottle of wine, and waiting in the fridge- tiramisu. And not just any tiramisu, this is the best tiramisu I’ve ever eaten. It’s the best one my mum has ever eaten, and she’s done her homework. I can’t remember where the recipe came from originally (I have a vague recollection of copying it into my phone from a book in Marks and Spencer), but it’s a good ‘un. It now lives in possibly my favourite of my mum’s cookbooks, which is more like a scrapbook full of clippings and handwritten instructions written in a shorthand that only she can interpret (and of course her own hilarious touches, like labelling the tiramisu "tiramisu rex’- a private joke). Unlike a lot of recipes I see, this one isn’t bulked out with lashings of whipped cream, it’s just a pure, creamy, coffee-y, unadulterated mountain of mascarpone pleasure. So simple to make and oh so very good to eat. Trust me on this one.

Ingredients

4 egg yolks, 2 egg whites,

100g caster sugar

500g mascarpone cheese

1 tsp vanilla extract

175ml strong black coffee (get a triple espresso shot from a good coffee shop and top it up with water)
125ml liqueur (my mum uses Tia Maria)
24 sponge fingers

Method

• Lay the fingers in the bottom of a dish and cover with the coffee and liqueur.
• Whisk the egg yolks and sugar over hot water on the hob until pale and fluffy.
• When cool, mix in the mascarpone and vanilla and fold in the whisked egg whites.
• Layer the cheese mixture over the sponges and finish with a dusting of cocoa or grated chocolate.
• Dish out great bowl-fulls to your nearest and dearest and watch them devour it.

It’s even better the day after if you can manage to leave it alone for that long. And obviously don’t expect it to taste as amazing as my mum’s did last night. Perhaps it was the situation: spreading across the sofa after a month of non-stop studying, with a dish-full of tiramisu in one hand, a cold glass of pinot grigio in the other, and a border terrier on my knee. I was very happy to be home.