#tiramisu liqueur

[sidonius5]

𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝘿𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙉𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙞

[daily-deliciousness]

Tiramisu

[bakerstable]

Tiramisu Cake Roll

[bi-magnus]

Sopranos Style Tiramisu The classic Italian-inspired dessert is made from ladyfingers dipped in coffee and layered with mascarpone that has been flavored with amaretto and grated chocolate.

[thelcsdaily]

My Birthday Cake

From Ferrara's website: Ferrara’s specialty tiramisu features homemade Savoiardi (Ladyfinger cookies) that they douse with espresso & coffee liqueur and layer with sweet mascarpone. Ferrara is one of New York's most iconic shops and its first Italian Bakery, founded in 1892 in Little Italy. As America's first Pasticceria and espresso bar, it was only natural that people came primarily for the coffee, cookies and cakes, and despite the many changes in the neighborhood over the decades, their offerings are still wowing everyone who walks through the door, instantly transporting them to Southern Italy.

They have been featured on the Food Network's "Best Things I Ever Ate," The New York Times, New York Magazine and just about every media outlet imaginable.

“You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.” — C.S. Lewis

[thethirdromana]

You have done cheeses. How about dessert.

Ooh, good idea.

See, the thing about Victorian food is that a lot of it sounds pretty unappealing from the vantage point of the 21st century. There were a lot of overboiled vegetables and stodgy meals designed to get you through winters with no central heating.

But Victorian desserts? Much more reliably delicious. So I can restrict myself to the desserts that these characters might actually have eaten. No tiramisu (1960s) or banoffee pie (1971).

Starting off with an easy one, RM Renfield is the traditional Scottish fruit slice (which I already highlighted in my food guide to Dracula) known as flies graveyard. I'm going to trust that one doesn't need any additional exploration.

Lucy Westenra is light (literally: "Lucy" means light), pretty, and appealing to small children. OK, admittedly the eater-eaten relationship goes the other way around with the small children vs Lucy-as-dessert, but I think it still works. She's a bombe glacée, a spherical ice-cream dessert that first appeared on restaurant menus in the 1880s.

I had a fun browse through Dutch desserts before I found the perfect one for Abraham van Helsing. He's the old man of the story, but he's still a little bit spicy and a little bit divisive - much like anise, which flavours Dutch oudewijvenkoek, or old wives' cake.

For Quincey Morris, there could only be one option. He's from Texas, y'all, he is obviously peach cobbler.

Continuing with the suitors, the obvious answer for Arthur Holmwood would be a dessert associated with wealth and privilege - perhaps Eton Mess, traditionally served at the annual cricket match between Eton and Harrow Schools, and first mentioned in print in 1893. But Eton Mess is a light, sweet, inconsequential sort of dessert and that just doesn't seem right for Arthur. Instead, I'd associate him with a rich, indulgent, traditional, solid plum pudding.

Jack Seward is in some ways the most modern of the suitors. Also the most highly strung. He's cherries jubilee, a brand-new dessert in 1897 as it was (probably) created that year for Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee. It's full of liqueur (suitably for Jack, who's full of chloral) and it gets flambéed at the table.

I have to admit that I struggled with Jonathan Harker. Maybe I just love him too much to caricature him, you know? But what I came down is that he needed to be a beloved treat, available on menus across the UK, not wildly expensive, not wildly luxurious. And also, Jonathan goes through a lot of trials and drinks a lot of tea in this novel. Jonathan is a toasted teacake.

As for Mina Harker née Murray, it seemed appropriate that she should be a similar sort of dessert to her husband. So he's a bun with dried fruit and she's a bread with dried fruit. Specifically, she's an Irish soda bread (since Murray is an Irish surname) that is known either as Spotted Dog or - more suitably for Mina - railway cake.

[jaywonjuice]

baking with enhypen 🥧✨

pairing: bf!enha x gn reader

warnings: sfw intimacy, physical contact, kissing, mentions of food

wc: 1k

a/n: some super warm and cozy domestic enha for you this sunday afternoon, i hope u enjoy :3 (i only write romantically for enha adult line !)

ೀ⋆heeseung

when you ask what he wants to make, hee immediately suggests coffee and walnut cake (he doesn’t even like coffee but he knows it’s your favourite)

gets himself told off for snacking on the crushed walnuts when you’re not looking. he grins mischievously at you, finding your exasperated expression endlessly cute, and resumes munching the second your back is turned again.

he slips his arms around your waist while you’re mixing the coffee cream, and rests his chin on your shoulder, kissing your neck softly. ‘hee, if you ever want to actually get to eat this cake do you maybe wanna help?’ you say, suppressing a smile. ‘mm-mm,’ he hums his refusal, earning an eye roll from you.

ೀ⋆jay

you just know that jay has to be out here choosing the most complicated and ambitious recipe ~ think sour cherry and pistachio danish.

he’s in the middle of rambling to you about how to get the compote a perfect gooey consistency, when you lean in quickly and give him a sudden kiss. you promptly return to looking at him expectantly to carry on, as if nothing had happened. he blinks, taken aback for a moment by the interruption, before smiling as he continues with what he was saying, detailing how absolutely *crucial* it is that everything be finished off with a brush of orange liqueur…

he loves to supervise from behind, watching over your shoulder as you roll out and fold the dough, using the excuse of ‘helping make sure you get it all even’ as he leans over you and places his bigger hands on top of yours, guiding their movements with his, causing your heart to race.

the danishes come out looking and smelling amazing, and as you stare at them, wide-eyed with excitement, jay can feel his heart swell with pride at you taking an interest in his favourite hobby.

ೀ⋆jake

jake insists on his auntie’s australian lamington recipe, enthusiastically declaring that he wants to make them for you to try because he loved them so much growing up ..’)

jake is the messiest chef, and he leaves the kitchen looking like a storm has just passed through - somehow he has managed to use last every cup, bowl, and utensil in the process of baking one little tray of cakes for you.

and of course he manages to get flour all over his face, and you laugh at his oblivious expression as he stares at you with big puppy eyes, confused why you’re laughing. he looks so adorable right now that you simply have to kiss him on his floury cheek.

later on, when the two of you are snuggled up on the sofa under a blanket watching your favourite show together, you realise you can still smell the sweet coconut scent from your baking escapade lingering on him when he leans in close.

ೀ⋆sunghoon

of course you and hoon are going to be making his favourite, tiramisu.

dusting the cocoa powder over the dessert tickles your nose and makes you sneeze like five times in a row, and hoon teases you about how cute your sneeze sounds for the rest of the morning.

he looks unbelievably fine stood there in front of you right now, you think to yourself, in his navy apron and pressed white shirt, brow furrowed slightly in concentration as he whisks mascarpone into a big mixing bowl. he looks up and catches you watching him, and your cheeks flush instantly.

the determined expression on your face as you grate chocolate over a bowl, sunghoon thinks, is maddeningly cute. before he can stop himself he’s reaching out to tuck a rogue lock of hair that has come loose back behind your ear. you don’t even have time to look up and meet his gaze properly before his lips are on yours.

ೀ⋆sunoo

together, the two of you are definitely on a mission to make this the prettiest strawberry lemon cake the world has ever seen.

his long fringe keeps falling into his eyes as he’s mixing up the buttercream, so he allows you to tie it up for him with a little hair band. you have to try *really* hard not to giggle or tease him about the way the little hair sprout wiggles side to side on top of his head as he vigorously whisks the cake mix.

while waiting for the cake to come out of the oven, you decide to check and see how it’s doing. as you open it up to take a peek, sunoo at your side wordlessly puts an arm around your waist, and instinctively you let your head rest on his shoulder. you feel an inexplicable surge of comfort in the warm moment. you stay and watch together quietly as the soft sponge of the cake rises steadily.

the decorating is his absolute favourite part, blushing when you compliment the way he delicately arranges thinly-sliced strawberries and freeze dried lemon pieces over the cake’s surface.

ೀ⋆jungwon

when jungwon suggests baking cinnamon rolls you can’t help yourself from laughing a little bit. ‘jungwon you literally are like, a cinnamon roll personified,’ you tease. he pouts, doing his best to look offended by your poking fun, but you can tell that really he’s enjoying it.

you had expected baked goods and jungwon to make an adorable combination, however, as you watch him now, with his hair pushed back and sleeves rolled roughly up, kneading the dough on the countertop, the muscles in his forearm flexing suddenly catch your eye and…. you feel the heat rise in your cheeks, flustered by the unexpected reminder of his surprising strength.

won holds up his complete decorated cinnamon roll for you to see, beaming proudly. as your eyes rest on the pastry, a smile plays on your lips. the surface is a little wonky, and icing is dripping unevenly round the sides, but it would be a lie to say that it doesn’t look delicious. you could tell how much care he’d put into making it. ‘for you,’ he tells you shyly. ‘it’s made with love.’

©jaywonjuice | do not copy or re-upload my work on any platform

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: October 25th - Food Play (Papa Emeritus II x TransMasc!Reader)

IM SORRRYYYYYYYY about the not on time updates ! I would be doing so much better at this if I didn't have the damn flu 😭🙏 The missing days WILL all come before November, just unfortunately late </3 Hang in there !!!

Tags: Established Relationship, Minimal AFAB Language Used, Food-Play, Nipple Sucking, Cunilingus, Blowjobs, Cum-Shot, 2nd Person POV

Secondo had something special planned tonight for your anniversary. You expected something big and extravagant, like going out to some ridiculously priced restaurant and having him fill you up on expensive wines and cheeses, like what he usually does for your date nights. But tonight, he insisted on something more subtle, intimate. You were thankful for that, as much as you loved your usual outings. You really weren't feeling like getting drunk in public and spilling wine on yet another one of your suits.

He had made you dinner at your house. You knew whatever he cooked was going to be better than any fancy restaurant he could've potentially taken you to. He was a God when it came to cooking. The table was set, the room was lit with candles, your favorite music was playing softly on a record, and the meal was still steaming as it was being placed on your plate by yours truly. There were multiple courses, each one more delicious than the last. You knew he was intent on stuffing you to the brim, but this isn't what you thought he meant. Not complaining though.

You were already getting full, but your taste buds were screaming at you to continue, both because it tasted divine and you wanted to please Secondo. Just when you were reaching for another helping of carbonara, Secondo put a hand over yours. "Don't fill up too much now, you must save room for dessert."

"Oh, there's an actual dessert? I just thought that was a euphemism for your cock." You quipped, taking a sip of your wine to cleanse your palette.

"That too," He laughed. "But there is an actual sweet treat prepared for you, dolcezza. Would you like it now?" As bountiful as the feast he prepared for you was, your stomach was begging you to get it over with before it explodes. You decided to trust your gut, literally. You nod, and he eagerly stands up to go get it. He places the small plate in front of you; tiramisu. A relatively easy dish to conjure up, so it's not like he pushed himself with this one, but still a classic, flavored with a dash of coffee liqueur just how he likes.

You usually liked to drizzle a soft chocolate sauce on top, and tonight he allowed you no exception, setting a bottle beside you. "Help yourself, amore mio." He offered. "I don't want to overdo it and ruin your dessert." You obliged, squeezing the bottle over it in a way you thought was gentle, but apparently not gentle enough. Chocolate sauce splattered all over the plate, and a little on your cheek, the bottle making an embarrassing fart sound doing so.

"You're supposed to shake the bottle first, amore." Secondo chuckled, holding back a particularly hearty laugh to not make you feel any more embarrassed.

"I know that now." You frown.

"Oh, my poor boy." Secondo cooed, approaching you with a twinkle in his eyes. He eyed the chocolate dripping down your cheek. "Let me get that for you." He purrs lowly, dipping his head down to slowly lick the sauce off your cheek. You shiver at the feeling, but just as the arousal shot through you, it was over, pulling away and returning to his seat. "Eat up, dear." He says innocently.

With your hand shaking, you pick up your fork, digging in and taking a small bite. It was delicious, the soft, spongey tenderness of the cake held a taste that was bold and bittersweet, mixed with a sweet creaminess. The alcohol gave it a different kind of warmth. But you could hardly focus on the taste, not with Secondo staring at you like you were his next meal. You have another bite, then another. You don't even get halfway though before you slam your fork on the table impatiently.

"Let me cut to the chase. Are you gonna fuck me or not?" You spit, the tension too much to handle. Secondo grins mischievously. "Is that what you want?" He quirks a brow. This dickhead knows what he's doing. "Well... then meet me in the bedroom. And bring the chocolate sauce." He winks suggestively, voice low and seductive, walking off. Another shiver went up your spine.

Impossibly quick, you shot up and rushed to the bedroom where he was, holding zero composure, stopping only to grab the chocolate sauce you almost forgot. Arriving at your destination, you realized he brought some things with him too. Whipped cream, peaches in a basket, the whole nine yards. Now I know why he wanted to dine alone. Who knows how long he must've been thinking of trying this shit, watching you eat at those fancy restaurants, spilling and making a mess of yourself must've gotten him all worked up.

You speedily unbutton your dress shirt, imperative to not stain yet another article of white clothing. Secondo has already unclothed, half hard cock resting on his thigh, twitching appreciatively the more you strip for him. "Why don't you get on the bed so I can worship you, mio amato?" Secondo sighs, stroking himself lazily, his length growing steadily. Of course you instantly plop down on the bed, legs spread and ready for him.

Normally, he would delve into your cunt as soon as he possibly could, but he held a cocky smirk, inching down painfully slowly. Just when you thought you'd finally feel his tongue on you, your eyes shut tight in suspense, you felt a cool dripping of some sort of creamy liquid on your lower bits. You open your eyes in confusion and could not believe the audacity of this man.

The fucking chocolate sauce.

He squirted chocolate sauce on your fucking clit.

Finally, his mouth is on you, pulling away the laugh that was bubbling in your throat and replacing it with a moan, licking you clean of the chocolate. Even after a three course meal, he ate you like he was starved, slurping and sucking like you were his life line. Your orgasm was already building up, limbs tightening and stomach in knots, a knot ready to come undone. It's like he was sucking the soul out of you.

You came, hard and rough, your body feeling heavy and boneless. Still, you needed more, just a little more. You needed him, in any way, in any hole. The frustration is unbearable. He lapped up your arousal, savoring the taste somehow more than you savored any of his dishes. When he came back up, you expected him to pull you in for a kiss like he always does, but he hesitated, pulling out a ripe peach from the basket at the bedside. "Bite into it." He commanded. "I want to taste your mouth in a state even sweeter."

You bit into the plump peach, juices dripping down the front of your chest unabashedly. He watches with wide, hungry eyes, licking his lips at the sinful sight. The moment you swallow, he's on you, knocking the rest of the poor peach to the ground. Such a shame, that was a damn good peach. His tongue fought yours violently, something that is usually classic foreplay for him, but this time you suspect it's just to get as much taste as possible. Still not a bother to you at all regardless.

He pulls away from the kiss, strings of saliva connecting your mouths from the passionate encounter. He dips his head down, laving the leftover juices that ran down your chest. He uses the opportunity from cleaning you up to take one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling over the sensitive bud, alternating between sucking and biting. You writhe underneath him, fingers digging into his biceps, fighting desperately to keep yourself grounded. His mouth works wonders everywhere.

You feel his cock throb against your thigh, and have a wicked idea. While he continues to work on your nipples, distracted, it doesn't take much force to push him off of you, flipping so now you're on top. He smiles, enjoying the change in dynamics, excited to see where you were going. "You like playing with your food?" You tease in a sing-songy voice, taking out the whipped cream. He knew where this was headed. "Now it's my turn."

You spray some in your mouth at first, just for shits and giggles, before spraying some on the tip of his dick, which stood tall and proud, ready for you. Secondo laughs, definitely tipsy from the wine, way more entertained by this than he should be. You dip down and lick it off, slow and sensual. That make him suck back his laughter real quick, a deep pleasurable sigh escaping his lips. He lets his head fall back on the headboard, relaxing. You swirl your tongue around, the cool sweetness of the cream mixed with the heaty, savory taste of his manhood intoxicating.

His mouth hung in a perfect 'O' shape, brows furrowed, the pleasure overwhelming. "Cazzo..." He mutters under his breath. You inhaled him deeper, hollowing your cheeks in order to take him all the way. It was when your hand came to play with his balls that he felt his own orgasm approaching rather quickly. "Ah-! Amore..." His voice faltered in warning, breathing picking up. You removed yourself from his cock, finishing him up with your hand furiously jerking him.

He whined in protest at the lack of your perfect, tight mouth, but he quickly finished, cum spurting from him and all over his hairy stomach, catching on his abs and pooling in his bellybutton. As he came down, he looked down at you, dazed and still fueld with desire. "I'll give you a proper fucking soon enough," he huffed exasperatedly. "O-once I recover..." You smiled and nodded, happy to bounce on his cock the second your sensitive hole stops throbbing.

He sighed and pulled you close, sweat dampened bodies intertwined. He leaned in to your ear. "Caro, can I ask you a question?" He muttered. You stirred slightly, humming to show your interest. "You know I would never complain about such a thing, but I was simply wondering... why didn't you swallow? You usually do." You snickered.

"I'm full."

-

[jademint2581]

This should be fine, Kai thinks to himself when gathering the necessary ingredients among other groceries at the store. This is nothing more than me fulfilling a task Mr. Chidouin has given me.

This should do.

Back at the house Kai, after he's put away most of what he brought, starts the preparation process. Intending to get the most out of every moment he has left until it's time.

The rich darkness of the espresso swallows up the liqueur. It's as if the liquid is not a blend of two, but a reunion of that which has always been one and the same. In not just colour, but scent as well. The heat of the coffee is still there, but only faintly. Receding. Giving way to the relative coolness of the room. Ceasing. Gone. Kai finds himself feeling up his palms and fingers against the cup, holding onto the warmth as it leaves.

He lets go. This won't do.

Watching the vibrantly orange yolks and sugar combine into the beginnings of a custard is relaxing. The blades spin, the bain marie steams away and the mixture thickens. Bit by bit it thickens over the mild heat. Kai is mesmerized by the gradual change of the consistency, allowing himself to become absorbed into the slowing of time.

It's not the time yet. Not yet.

The creases deepen and the ropes thicken. It's time to get on with it. No matter how much one would like to prolong a moment, time cruelly marches on and the moment before is lost. The moment yet to come drawing nearer than before. The inevitable.

Mascarpone, vanilla extract, spinning blades. A moment more.

Whipping the cream to stiff peaks. Then fold, fold, fold. Each one a slow, steady step forward to the Hades.

Kai hears himself hum as he dips the savoiardi into the now cold, liqueur-spiked coffee. The tone is off and he repeats the errant part, unintentionally growing closer to being grounded in reality. As his delicate grip fails and a biscuit drops into the cup completely, he jolts back into the present.

He has to fish for the ladyfinger from the cup before it becomes too soaked, which almost has him swearing. Odd. My hands, shaking? Kai wagers it's just because he hasn't eaten for a while. Something about the shoemaker's children going barefoot. He chuckles at his silly negligence, shaking off the jitters as they scale his arms and sides.

Layer by layer, the deep dish becomes full and it's time to set it aside to wait for the moment it's supposed to be served. Kai stows it away in the fridge and closes the door. Now, I shall make the hours count.

Kai occupies himself with the other usual tasks around the house, making sure not to be seen by little Miss Sara once she arrives home with her mother. It's almost quite the entertaining game of dancing in the shadows, paving the way for the Chidouin daughter to have an ordinary day. It takes his mind off of whatever it is that he buries in with the layers of soaked cake and cream.

The hours go by and the kitchen is empty again. It's nearly time. Kai's jaw feels terribly stiff tonight.

Kai digs up the now cool and well-developed dishful of dessert from the fridge. When he dusts the top with some cocoa powder, his throat feels dry.

Supposedly, this kind of dessert is not exactly to Sara's liking, which is... fine, Kai supposes. It's quite alright.

Seems like only Mr. Chidouin himself is going to enjoy this treat prepared by Kai. Only one person to impress.

I sincerely hope you like it, sir. That's what Kai would've said if he could've spoken when he set a small plateful of the delicacy on Mr. Chidouin's desk.

Mr. Chidouin doesn't dismiss Kai. Kai takes this as a sign to stay and hear the verdict.

Mr. Chidouin barely breaks eyecontact as he enjoys the first few spoonfuls. He hums in satisfaction for the taste and texture but most of the sound is drowned out by the rushing of the veins in Kai's head, ringing in his ears.

You make a mean tiramisu, boy. I really like it. Make it again for me sometime, won't you?

Kai makes no face, instead responding with an of course, sir. This is not the time nor place. This is not the time nor place, he chants against the echoing shells of his consciousness.

With these words of acceptance Chidouin casts a warm smile Kai's way and enjoys more of the specially prepared tiramisu. The tiramisu Kai intended to be enjoyed, to be consumed. Kai can't help but lose the sight of where and why he is as he watches Mr. Chidouin so gleefully taking in the entirety of the delicious serving.

Finally the Chidouin Master chuckles and dismisses Kai, not having realised he must do so before Kai would find it appropriate to leave. Kai leaves with a modest bow and makes haste for the washing room. He silently glides through the air, not even feeling his feet on the lovely parquet of his new home.

The laundry ought to be moved into the drier.

In the washroom, Kai is alone. The time he'd dreaded had come and gone. Passed. I passed.

He holds the newly washed, still damp pink sweater of Miss Sara in his trembling hands as it catches his tears. In the silence, he can hear them make a quiet dapping sound upon hitting the fabric.

Oh dear, this won't do... This won't do at all.

[sophisticated-creepy]

Dessert was brought out to the diners of a rich tiramisu paired with the house version of a Goodnight Kiss cocktail (or mocktail), the specialty nightcap’s colored liqueur glinting almost sinisterly of ruby bloodstone in the tall, fluted glasses. The dining room was filled once more with conversation and laughter, as crooner’s music of days gone by lilted sweet serenades to round out the intimate atmosphere of opulence. Having been served, Lola reached for Stanley, turning off the tape recording feature, and stuffed it with her pen and notepad away back into her purse to fully enjoy the company of her friends.

“Well, no newspaper man,” she said with a slight shrug as she spooned into her dessert. “But still a good play nonetheless. For a moment there, they had me believing the chef was the one who committed the crime.”

          “That would have been a neat twist if two people attempted to plot against Fernsby in the same night,” Modesta said with a laugh.

          “What if all of them had tried to murder Fernsby?” Jack asked, the group responding in more laughter at the convoluted thought.

          “Although I am slightly disappointed none of you got to see Mr. Newspaper Man, maybe Jack got a shot of him at some point during the play,” Lola said, motioning with her spoon at the camcorder.

          “I’ll keep an eye out for him when I review the footage for editing,” Jack said, making a mental note of the idea. As the friends continued in their conversation, a woman with soft brown hair and eyes, wearing a gold nameplate secured to her black jacket lapel, approached their table.

          “Pardon me for intruding, but who among you is Mr. Glenbrook?” she asked, her smile sweet and charming.

          “I am. How may I help you?” Raphael asked.

          “My name is Annie, and I’m the Director of Hospitality. There’s no need to rush dessert, but when your party is ready, I’ll be guiding you on your stay tonight at the Manor House,” Annie said. “That includes a tour of the upper levels where you’ll be lodging.”

          “That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Annie,” Raphael said.

          “My pleasure. Whenever you all are ready, come find me at the hostess stand located where you first walked in.” Annie gave another brilliant smile to the group and then departed.

          “Ooh! My stomach just got filled with so many butterflies,” Lola announced with a shiver. “I still can’t believe we’re all staying the night. This is honestly the best thing you guys could have ever done for me. Thank you.”

          “The night’s only just getting started,” Modesta reminded.

          “Plenty of time and opportunities for you to get your spooky on,” Lazare added.

          “I can’t wait!” Lola exclaimed, nearly vibrating in her chair with excitement to explore the old Manor House and its potential spookies. The friends enjoyed the remainder of dessert relaxed in one another’s conversation and company whereupon gathering themselves, agreed it was time to meet up with the Director of Hospitality at the hostess station, eager to get the rest of their night underway. Annie greeted them with her award winning smile as the cluster of five congregated in the main foyer outside the dining room.

          “All right, is everyone ready to get started?” she asked, collecting a clipboard of papers and a packet full of specialty room keys from the hostess podium. “Did you enjoy dinner?”

          “Everything has been terrific,” Lola said. “We also really enjoyed the play. It was so much fun and so clever. Real quick, could you tell us who the director is? I’d like to tell them how much I enjoyed the show, if I could.”

          “Certainly. He’s right over there.” Annie raised her hand to flag down the play’s director who lingered somewhere behind the group of friends. Lola turned, expecting to see Mr. Newspaper Man walk in their direction, however, it was instead Detective Babcock who swaggered forward.

          “Oh! Detective Babcock is the director?” Lola asked, her jaw dropping open from surprise.

          “He is, as well as the writer of the play,” Annie replied. “Detective Babcock, these guests wished to congratulate you on tonight’s performance,” she said once the actor reached the podium.

          “Ah! That’s always nice to hear. Thank you,” Detective Babcock beamed, his eyes bright and smile cheerful as he faced the others.

          “Yes,” Lola stammered, recovering from her initial shock. “As I told Annie, it was indeed quite the clever show.”

          “I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves,” Detective Babcock said with a slight bow of appreciation.

          “I have just one quick question,” Lola began, ignoring the confused stares from eyes she felt penetrating the back of her head from her friends. “All the cast members were in the play tonight, yes?”

          “They were,” Babcock answered, a small wrinkle of question forming between his eyebrows as his head canted to the side.

          “I mean, not their characters, but the actual actors themselves? How many actors are normally in your plays?”

          “We’re a small troupe,” Babcock said. “There’s only just the five of us.”

          “So, then, who was the actor waiting in the---.”

          “Sweetie, I think you’re confusing your murder mysteries,” Raphael interrupted, placing his hands on Lola’s shoulders. “Remember? There were characters staged in the wings at the show we saw last weekend.”

          Lola looked up into her fiancé’s face, his eyes silently pleading for her to read his unspoken thoughts. “Oh…that’s right,” she drawled. “You’re right,” she said again, adding more confidence to her tone as she nodded along with Raphael. “Silly me, last week must have slipped my mind. Sorry, Detective, for getting confused.”

          “No need to apologize,” Babcock said. “I’m glad you enjoyed the show. Have a good rest of your night,” and he tipped the brim of his hat in farewell before departing.

          “Let’s get started, shall we?” Annie asked, stepping out from behind the podium. “Let me first show you to your rooms. Follow me, please.” With a beckoning wave, Annie led the group to a set of thickly carpeted stairs inside the foyer that ascended towards the upper levels, but as Lola took her place first in line, she felt her arm tugged backwards, and turned to find Modesta holding her sleeve.

          “Is there a particular reason why you felt the need to make that man uncomfortable?” Modesta asked, her voice a whisper so their tour guide didn’t overhear.

          “He wasn’t uncomfortable,” Lola said, matching her friend’s whisper. “I was trying to find out more information about newspaper man.”

          “I’m beginning to think there is no ‘newspaper man’.”

          “So am I,” Lola agreed, oblivious to the dripping sarcasm of Modesta’s comment. A gentle tug at her hand had Lola turning once more to the front of the line as Raphael led her up the stairs with him, at which point the friends gathered close on the second level landing so Annie could begin her official tour.

          “These rooms were once the dwelling spaces of the Northcott family members. Each room has been curated and furnished to personify each individual’s personality, based on what we know of their lives. Here, is young Edgar’s room, the only child of Cornelius and Lillian.” Annie stopped at a large paneled door of oak halfway down the long hallway as she rounded the banister, using one of the fancy keys from the packet at her clipboard to unlock the room, and swinging the door wide open, she gestured for everyone to enter. Edgar’s room was painted a soft, butter yellow with plush carpet covering the floor, while a full bed plumped with blue brocade and golden damask accents drew the focus as the main focal point of the splendid room. Decorating the walls were oil paintings depicting ocean scenes of large ships in calm seas. A fireplace of white painted brick boasted a sturdy mantle with vintage children’s toys resting on its top, and a toy chest with its contents spilling out of even more toys, was tucked against one side of the hearth. A bookcase displaying child-like trinkets was centered on the opposite wall of the fireplace next to a thick clothes closet and a small en suite.

          “Although Edgar followed in his father’s footsteps of the cannery business, we wanted to give his room that essence of youthful wonder, given he was the founders’ only child,” Annie explained as she watched the group “ooh” and “aw” over the space. “Now, this room will be Lazare Pyrite’s for the night,” Annie said, looking at her clipboard to find the guest’s name.

          “That’s me,” Lazare spoke, raising his hand, and Annie smiled as she passed along the room keys to him.

          “Let’s move on to the next room, shall we?” Annie said, continuing the tour. She led them next to the end of the hallway, where a cozy sitting area was furnished and staged with leather wingback chairs and a table set with items for teatime in the nook of bay windows overlooking the front of the grounds. A door was to the left and right of the setting, and Annie took them to the left, unlocking the paneled oak door with another ring of fancy keys from her clipboard packet.

          “This is Mr. Northcott’s room,” Annie declared as the door swung open on silent hinges. The chamber was a vast contrast to that of his son Edgar’s dwellings, for this room had painted walls of deep, hunter green, adorned with cherry accented furniture upholstered in vibrant tapestries. The bed was much larger as well, also dressed in deep, hunter green to match the walls, and dangling overhead was a gold, three-armed chandelier. Three pillows were propped against the sturdy headboard, as well as only three chairs placed in front of the fireplace between a large closet and en suite, and three paintings of hunting scenes decorated the walls. The room was grand, to be sure, and carried a weighty presence despite its minimalistic aesthetic.

          “Mr. Northcott was a studious, no nonsense man, especially in his business affairs, so this room reflects the dedication he had for the cannery,” Annie informed. “This will be Jack and Modesta’s room for the night.”

          “That’s us, thank you,” Jack said, taking the offered keys.

          “Perfect. That leaves Mr. and Mrs. Glenbrook’s room next. This way please,” and Annie ushered the group to the last bedroom available across from Mr. Northcott’s room. “I present to you, Lillian’s Suite,” and Annie held the door open for Lola and Raphael. Lillian Eleanor Northcott’s room was the personified breath of fresh air, with lilac painted walls decorated smartly with gilded framed paintings of delicate ladies with mischief behind their eyes, while antique lace hung from the windows in floor to ceiling curtains. The furnishings were sleek and polished, every detail executed down to the finest touch, including a vase of freshly cut roses sitting in the middle of a table between two chairs in front of the white brick fireplace. The large bed, dressed in a dusty rose duvet and mauve linen sheets, had a chandelier above it, dripping in clear cut crystal and glass beads. A massive armoire, vanity, and chest of drawers lined the walls appropriately, as well as several fully stocked bookcases, the slender tomes locked behind glass panels to preserve the brittle spines and pages. A special detail to the impressive suite, one that did not go unnoticed, was a silver tray on the davenport at the end of the bed with an ice bucket chilling a bottle of champagne, two fluted glasses, and a notecard in gold filigree which read “Happy Birthday” attached to a single long stemmed rose.

          “Lillian exemplified love and femininity, which we tried to recreate when furnishing her room. There’s also a claw footed soaker tub in the en suite, original to the home, as well as a delicacy ahead of its time,” Annie shared. “What do you think?”

          The moment Lola first walked into the room, she instantly fell in love. It was as if Lillian’s spirit still lingered in the lavish bedchamber, living her days in the routine of her life before tragedy ended too soon her existence. Lola could easily imagine the lady of the house going from one piece of furniture to the next, perhaps humming to herself while pinning her hair at the vanity, or spending countless nights reading while in front of a cozy fire. Little fragments of Lillian’s essence filled the space with warmth and life despite her being cold and dead.

          “Well, Lola?” Raphael asked, coming to stand by her side. “Is the room to your liking?”

          “It’s absolutely perfect,” Lola breathed. Her eyes continued to roam the walls and tables, unable to stay focused on one particular thing for too long before darting to the next enticing, pretty object, until eventually landing on the amused and handsome face of her beloved. “It’s perfect,” she repeated. “Thank you.”

          “Happy Birthday,” and Raphael leaned down to kiss her sweetly.

          “Now that everyone has had a chance to see the upper rooms, let’s continue on our tour,” Annie said, and the group of friends assembled in the hallway as the pleasant guide led the party towards the staircase.

          “Can you tell us what kinds of spooky things happen up here?” Lola asked. “It’s no secret this place is haunted. Surely there’s some type of paranormal activity happening up here, right?”

          “You are correct. From what I’ve learned based off the haunted guided tours, not much ‘ghostly activity’ happens specifically in the bedrooms,” Annie answered, “however, guests do tend to hear footsteps walking above them on the third floor at all ends of the night.”

          “What’s on the third floor?” Modesta asked.

          “That would be the old servants’ quarters,” Annie replied.

          “Are we able to tour the servant quarters?” Lazare asked.

          “Unfortunately, no, access to that area is closed to the public at the moment while renovations are taking place.”

          “What’s behind this door?” Lola asked, stopping at the top of the landing before following Annie down the stairs.

          “Oh, that’s Lillian’s library,” she said.

          “A library? Can we go in?” Lola grabbed for the crystal doorknob on instinct, but the knob wouldn’t budge beneath her hand.

          “I’m sorry, but the library is closed as well due to renovations, and not open to the public at this time.”

          “Come along, Lola, all that means is we have more reasons to come back at a later time,” Raphael said, his tone laced with humor while he twined their fingers together with one of his large hands to gently coax her down the stairs with the rest of the group. She gave a small pout, turning over her shoulder only to watch the door grow further out of reach, not that she was able to enter the library anyway, but thoughts of being free to investigate the door later that night chased away her frown, replacing the downturn of her lips into an upturned quirked smirk, no doubt wrought with mischief, and, consequently, trouble.

          “Have you had any personal experiences dealing with the ghosts while working here?” Jack asked.

          “I’ve heard the classic knocks and occasional banging every now and again, but I’ve grown so accustomed to it, I hardly even realize it’s happening,” Annie replied with a light laugh. “Though, one time, I believe I saw the Gray Lady.”

          “You’ve seen Lillian?” Lola all but shouted in excitement. “Where?”

          “I was in the basement getting the event space ready for a large dinner party. I heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and when I turned to see who it was, I saw what looked like a gray cloud move from the bottom step go into the kitchen. It was only brief, but I could distinctly make out a high-neck collared dress, with hair styled in the period of Lillian’s time, and just the briefest glimpse of her profile.”

          “That’s so wild,” Lola stated, in awe of Annie’s story.

          “What makes it even more startling, is that I was the only one in the Manor House at that time, and no one was due to the house for another three hours. So…do you folks want to see the basement?” A resounding “yes” was made by all, Annie laughing at the obvious exuberance and delight of the group, and took them to the lower level that housed the restaurant’s kitchen as well as the private event space, where a side door led partiers to the outer grounds, opening to the gazebo and carriage house as well as the sprawling landscape of the backyard edged by the Dead Forest.

          “Since you all are staying the night, let me go ahead and give you some basic rules,” Annie said, her statement gaining everyone’s attention. “This space, as well as the main level, are open for you to explore. I must insist that you please refrain from taking any bottles from the bars, and if a room is locked, that means it is unavailable to the public, so please don’t force your way into any secured space.”

          Lola felt the tingle of eyes turning to her at Annie’s last comment, but she ignored the feeling, contributing the sensation to her zealous imagination and halfway guilty conscience at plotting to revisit the off-limits library.

          “An hour after closing time, myself and the rest of the Manor House staff will depart. We will lock the front doors, but you are more than welcome to explore the grounds using this side entrance. Your room keys have an extra key that go to this lock. In the morning, simply lock the door on your way out and drop your keys in the return box against this outer wall.”

          “What time is check out?” Raphael asked.

          “The cleaning crew comes in at 8:00, so we advise guests to be gone by 7:30,” Annie said. “Are there any questions?” When none were spoken, Annie smiled. “Great! I hope you all enjoy your evening.” She looked to her watch, then back to the others. “It’s closing time now. Happy slumbers, everyone.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

It's my birthday today!!

What a better way to celebrate a birthday than by getting a new chapter? It's my birthday treat to you all! This story is unfolding in so many new layers I hadn't expected, so get ready for a wild ride!

Hopefully everyone is enjoying the story so far, even if there has been quite a bit of a lag in posting. I appreciate everyone out there reading this, so thank you from the bottom of my heart! You're the best!

Have a great day, and until next time, happy reading!

~Melissa

[swampstew]

KIᒪᒪEᖇᑕOOK - ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ 2

Welcome to Raven's Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Join us in the family room as we sit around and browse our phones, and eat some Girl Scout cookies as we begin tonight's story. Rated Mature for language.

Going Live in 3…2…1…

GO

“What’s up everyone, Killer here. Today we’re going to be making a delicious Tiramisu that I like to eat whenever I’m having a hard time. My friend and coworker Quincy has been having some bad luck lately so I’m making one for her.”

The live chat was already spitting out messages more than Killer could read them. Most of them asking if he could send them baked goods for bad days too. He chuckled softly under his helmet, pulling his hair back into a low ponytail to avoid it going into the baking process. The fabric of his polyester blend muscle shirt stretched to accommodate Killer’s muscles without riding up his stomach and revealing his tight abdominals…too much. His jogger pants hugged his hips, perfectly framing his glutes and thighs.

“I can’t possibly make a dessert for every single person but take comfort in knowing that I’m rooting for you through your personal struggles. You got this,” pointing finger guns at the camera.

Turning around, he walked away to grab some ingredients and baking tools. The sound of pinging and comments going wildly in the background, a tad louder than the music on the speaker.

“This is a refreshing and savory dessert. I always feel like I’m biting into an espresso cloud and suddenly I’m a little bit happier, if only for a brief moment.”

Pulling out one mixing bowl, “First, we’re going to make our creamy filling. I’ll be using room-temperature mascarpone, cream, sugar, and vanilla extract. We’ll whip it until it gets nice and stiff. In between the whipping, I’ll also be dipping these lady fingers in this bowl of liquids – now I like to soak the fingers for about a minute to really soak in the espresso and liqueur. Makes the whole dessert just gush in your mouth.”

Killer was prepping the glass pan he was going to stack the layers in and he heard the transactions and notifications chime endlessly. What the hell was going on in chat today. He finished prepping the tools and ingredients before rushing to his phone to read everything.

Oh shit.

Oh fucking shit.

Killer did not mean to make any of his instruction sound as sexual as chat had perceived it to be. Oh no, the things he can’t unread. The blonde was incredibly grateful he kept his helmet on during all content creation, feeling his face break out in flushed flames. The echoing sounds of Kid and Wire’s cackling from inside the house only made it worse for Killer.

God damnit.

“Hng, er-uhm, as I was saying, once we get the…base ingredients prepared, we can get into some architecture. I think a good balance is about uh—2 to 3 inches of filling between biscuit layers, depending on how…erm…bloated the biscuit has become.”

As he loudly poured ingredients into the stainless-steel bowl, he quickly and quietly addressed the highlighted messages, not daring to repeat his answers before starting up the rotator blade. The machine Killer bought was a high-end model, it was a good quality standing mixer with a low humming drone when in use. Killer treated it as if it was a roaring engine.

“IT’S GETTING NOISY SO I’M GOING TO TURN UP THE MUSIC TO DROWN IT OUT. WON’T BE ABLE TO SEE MESSAGES FOR ABOUT 10 MINUTES,” he spoke loudly as he used the remote to turn the speaker up.

Killer’s mouth was dry. He rushed to the fridge to pull out ice cubes for his water, plunking a swirly straw in the glass and draining his cup in seconds. Three times.

Feeling relieved, he made his way back to the island tabletop. He started soaking the lady fingers in the bowl and slowly layering the glass pan bottom with a row of soaked fingers. Once the bottom was covered, he checked the mixer. The creamy filling was looking stiff. Turning the machine off, Killer also lowered the volume of the speaker.

“You’ll see that the texture is ready when you can raise the blade and the filling is light, fluffy yet firm. You should be able to hold the blade upside down without the peaks falling or losing integrity. Now to make my life easier, I’m going to transfer this into a piping bag to fill the layers and then smooth it out before adding the next layer of lady fingers.”

Killer started to read out messages as he filled and stacked.

“_LickMeImurLollipop says,” he almost chokes, “’Marry me and I’ll make you a stay-at-home husband. You can bake to your heart’s content, filling doughnuts and whatever you want with your cream😏.’”

He took a long sip of water, “That’s a very tempting offer, Lollipop. I’ll keep it in my back pocket for a rainy day, ok sweetie?”

Using a flat blade to smooth the creamy layer, “JustAsking says or I guess asks, ‘Will you ever do a face reveal?’  The answer to that, as its been every time since my first upload, is NO. Please respect my boundaries, I’m a human being.”

“SchoolPunkRock says, ‘Been watching you since day 1 and I love your personality and attitude. And also your food. If you ever make a cookbook, I’d buy it in a heartbeat. I’d buy 10 copies.’  That’s really nice, thank you. That’s not something I’ve thought about but a great idea, nonetheless. I might explore that later. In the meantime, please keep supporting me on this platform by liking, commenting, and following!”

Killer squeezed the last of the filling over the lady fingers and started smoothing the surface. His finger curled under the table to press Kid’s call button. The redhead came through the door as Killer finished dusting a layer of cocoa powder over the dessert.

“Excellent timing! Now normally you’d want to let this sit in the fridge for an hour to let the flavors sort of sit there and blend together for a nice balance. Tiramisu is great at any time of the day,” Killer cut a square from the glass pan and slid it over on a small plate with a fork. Killer turned to put the pan in the fridge for later.

Kid was grinning into the camera, “’Sup everyone. Hope you enjoyed my buddy’s lesson today. In addition to potential book deals, KillerCook may soon be offering private cooking lessons over Vimeo, just you and him for up to an hour discussing…cooking or whatever,” his grin turned sly.

Killer choked in the fridge.

“All details to be forthcoming!” Kid finished with a wave of his hand over his shoulder.

Then with precise and exaggerated motions, Kid began a slow descent to pick up his plate and fork. His own gym shirt strained over his broad chest, muscles rippling underneath as he moved. Holding his plate in the air, arms flexing tightly as he used his prosthetic to lift the fork to his mouth, he winked at the camera before taking a bite.

As soon as he closed his mouth, a very thin line of dark liquid dribbled from between his lips. Kid’s eyes opened in shocked as he chewed.

“Whoa, that’s juicy!”

The pinging on the phone was going wild again. Killer quickly stood next to Kid before the knucklehead dared to answer a single message.

“What else?”

“Mmm shit Kill this is fucking great. The coffee and liqueur have that nice, bitter kick to the sweetness of the cream. The filling itself is fluffy but thick and flavorful. The balance between bitter and sweet is perfect man.”

“A perfect balance between bitter and sweet, what more can you ask for? With that in mind, we’ll be taking the Tiramisu I made first thing this morning to our friend. Tune in next time when I make a fun comfort food that’s also perfect for a sports ball pregame and/or tailgate – Philly Cheesesteak Dip. It’s easy to prepare and like everything else I make, slays. This has been Faffaffaffa-Food with Killer.”

Before Killer could turn the camera off, Wire and Heat burst through the kitchen doors. Heat opened the fridge to grab the insulated travel pack that contained the pre-made tiramisu, hoisting it over his head in triumph.

The 4 men stared into the camera while waving goodbye.

“See ya soon Quincy!”

“QUINCCAAAYY!!”

“You better be resting and not doing shit!!”

“Hope you like it, Quincy!”

End Livestream.

“Really, a fucking private Vimeo class?” Killer whipped his baking gear off and tossed the dirty dishes in the sink.

The three other men began howling with laughter.

“AYE! You shoulda seen the comments dude! You can really capitalize on this, whole frontier’s unexplored,” Kid explained through his tears of laughter.

Killer clicked his tongue, “Nooooooo, you’re not going to live vicariously through me because your OnlyFans account got shut down again.”

Bonus: The comment section

GaybellineNY347: In theory, if one wanted to send you money in exchange for…photos of you with your finished desserts, how much would you charge? Not that the photos you post aren’t tasteful😳 They can be tastier with…you…in them👉👈 KillerCook: Uh well, I kind of want to keep the focus on my food…good to know though😳

VoidEssence: Who was the tall glass of water?👅💦 Scream_Maim_Fire: His name is out of your area code.

ShootingMyShot_89: Sooooo the vimeo deets???????????? PunkNeverDied69: I said FORTHCOMING! It’s COMING on the FORTH!

Read on Wattpad | Read on AO3

[collectionoflostsouls]

Starter for @the-bee-queen

Rosie loved a great many things. Her cannibals, the taste of flesh, elegant fashion, enthusiasm, music and dance. She loved the notion of love, and occasionally specific people as well. But none of these loves was quite as juicy, quite as delightful to sink her teeth into, as a good intrigue.

Apart, perhaps, from flesh of course.

She was just putting the finishing touches on her personal take on tiramisu (it was important to soak the lady's fingers in coffee liqueur beforehand), and getting a pot of tea ready even though Bee often brought something stronger to share, when she heard the bell on the shop door ring.

"That you, honey?" She asked, peeking out from the back room with a grin, ready to give her guest a hug and a hand as needed. "How was the trip up from Gluttony? I heah the traffic is always dreadful. It's enough tah make one glad te be confined to one ring."

[mr-downer-2024]

Step 1) – First prepare the strawberries. So wash them carefully then cut them into very small pieces. Set aside 6 or 8 strawberries and cut them into thin slices. The latter serve as decoration.



Step 2) – Then prepare the syrup to soak the ladyfingers. Pour the strawberry syrup into the milk and mix well. If you prefer a stronger taste, you can use a liqueur instead of syrup. For example Alchermes or Limoncello.



Step 3) – Now separate the egg whites from the yolks and remember that to whip the whites firm enough there must be no trace of yolk. Take a bowl and whip the egg whites until stiff: you will get at it when the egg whites will not move if you turn the bowl over. When ready, set aside. Now in another bowl (or the clean same one) whisk the egg yolks with the sugar until pale and smooth, 3 to 5 minutes.



Step 4) – When ready add mascarpone cheese. Whisk the cream slowly with the electric mixer.



Step 5) – Now add stiffen egg whites. Mix with a wooden spoon, from bottom to top. Mix slowly until it’s smooth and creamy. Mascarpone cream for tiramisu is ready.



Step 6) – Now quickly dip Savoiardi in the milk with the strawberry syrup. IMPORTANT! The biscuits should not take too much liquid, otherwise the tiramisu will be too soggy. Then put them in a ceramic or glass pan.



Step 7) – Spread 4/5 tablespoons of mascarpone cream on the biscuits surface. Add chopped strawberries and some chocolate chips. 



Step 8) – Add another layer of Savoiardi and then cover with more mascarpone cream, strawberries and chocolate chips and so on until the container is full.



Step 9) – Finally decorate your Strawberry Tiramisu with strawberries cut into thin slices and if you want with other chocolate chips. For decoration step, let your imagination run wild! Let it rest for 3 hours in the fridge before serving (even better if you make the tiramisu the day before, letting it rest overnight in the fridge).



How to Pasteurize Eggs For Strawberry Tiramisu

Tiramisu in Italy has always been made with fresh eggs and it’s well known that it would be a good idea to pasteurize the eggs before using them to make this dessert. Here then we will explain how to pasteurize egg yolks and whites using a hot syrup made with sugar and water.

How to pasteurize the yolks



Step 1) – First, place 50 g (1,80 oz) of sugar with 25 ml of water in a saucepan. Stir to dissolve the sugar as much as possible and then bring this syrup to a boil, always stirring. The syrup will be ready when it reaches the temperature of 121 ° C (250 F). It’s very important that the syrup does not exceed 121 ° C (250 F), temperature after which the sugar starts to caramelize (you’ll know it because it starts to darken). So measure the temperature with a kitchen thermometer; if you don’t have a thermometer, the syrup will be ready when small and white bubbles will form on the surface.



Step 2) – Meanwhile, start to whip up the egg yolks with a stand mixer at maximum speed. When the syrup is hot and ready, pour it over the egg yolks and keep whisking. Work the cream until completely cooled (about 10 minutes). You’ll feel that the cream is cold by placing your hands to the bowl. When the bowl is cold the cream is ready. This is the famous pate à bombe, a fluid and clear cream, made with eggs, sugar and water, that is the basis of many pastry preparations.

So following Tiramisu recipe, now it’s time to add the mascarpone cheese. But first look at how to pasteurize the egg whites, which in the recipe are whipped until stiff.

How to Pasteurize the Egg Whites



Step 3) – As for the egg yolks, make a syrup with 50 g (1,80 oz) of sugar and 25 ml of water. In the meantime, start whipping the egg whites with the stand mixer at maximum speed. When you see that they are whipping pretty good, add the hot syrup slowly. Continue to beat the egg whites until stiff for another 10 minutes.

Now the pasteurized egg whites are ready. Add them to the mascarpone cream and keep following the tiramisu recipe.



Storage

You can keep Strawberry Tiramisu for 3 days (maximum) well covered in the refrigerator. Unlike traditional Tiramisu, freezing is not recommended for Strawberry Tiramisu, as strawberries may be watery once thawed.

Strawberry Tiramisu: Variants

If there are no children you can add liqueur to the milk to make the flavor of this delicious strawberry tiramisu more lively.

Rum is very suitable for a stronger taste. For a strong flavor and also to have a beautiful color, Alchermes is perfect. Finally, the famous Limoncello also goes well with the strawberry flavor.

If you prefer a version of strawberry tiramisu without eggs, follow this procedure: blend the strawberries with 1/2 glass of lemon juice and sugar, cook the mixture in a saucepan for ten minutes until it becomes thick. Let it cool and, in the meantime, work the mascarpone with a whisk and then gently incorporate the cooked strawberry juice with a spatula.

If after preparing your Strawberry Tiramisu you have some cream left over, distribute it in single-serving cups with strawberries or other chopped fruit.

CategoriesItalian Desserts, Italian Recipes, Modern Recipes, Pudding RecipesTagsEggs Recipes, Mascarpone Recipes, Tiramisu Recipes

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3 thoughts on “Strawberry Tiramisu Recipe”



Sandy Lunn

February 17, 2023 at 12:07 am

I am not a good cook, but I am going to attempt this dessert. Lord, I must have lost my mind!!!!!! Wish me luck!!

Reply



Olivia

August 2, 2022 at 1:13 pm

Made Strawberry Tiramisu for a family reunion. Rave reviews!

Reply



Sharon

June 25, 2022 at 3:43 am

I’m so excited to find this recipe. Tiramisu is my favorite dessert and when we were in Trastevere, Rome we ate at La Botticella . Their dessert specialty was strawberry tiramisu. I thought I died and went to heaven, it was so good ! I’m going to attempt your recipe during summer vacation .

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what the hell is this

[bakingneoriche]

Now Eat Your Tiramisu

In episode one of Neo Yokio Kaz has a meeting with Aunt Agatha at what will be a recurring Italian restaurant and the first thing we see them eat there is tiramisu.

Luckily for me, tiramisu is a rather easy dessert. Unluckily for me, this means I need to find a way to make it take way longer than it needs to.

Its a dessert comprised of ladyfingers soaked in espresso layered with a mascarpone cream. Typically the mascarpone and ladyfingers are bought, so in this recipe they're homemade.

I started with the mascarpone the day before I planned on assembling the tiramisu since it need at least 12 hours to drain. I could have done this up to 2 weeks before I needed it.

Once I had my mascarpone draining, I made my ladyfingers. These also store well as long as they are out of humidity so they could have also been made well in advance

The next morning, on the day of tiramisu assembly I made my coffee mixture. I think this is traditionally just espresso and coffee liqueur, but I don't like how strong this is, so instead I add 2 shots of espresso into an 6 oz. cup of coffee with one or two spoonful of sugar. If I can't source the espresso, I have also added a packet of instant to a cup of coffee and used that. Then I put this into a bowl to cool down while I made my mascarpone cream.

My recipe has egg yolks in it, and I put my entire quantity of sugar into it so I put mine over a double boiler to whip (enjoy the photos below). I stirred them until they were very light and fluffy and I couldn't feel many grains of sugar left when I rubbed some between my fingers. Then I set this outside (in winter) to cool down so that the mascarpone wouldn't melt as soon as I put it in.

After my egg yolks cooled I beat in my mascarpone, which is one full recipe from my blog. It can be anywhere between 8 and 12 oz. and still work, so I never actually weigh how much it is.

Once my egg yolks and cheese are smooth, I fold in very stiffly whipped cream, starting with a small amount of it. The first photo below is my first addition of cream, and the second photo is of the finished cream.

Once the cream is done, my coffee has cooled, and I have my ladyfingers on standby, assembly can begin.

In an 8x8 casserole dish or cake pan, line a strip of parchment with the ends hanging over the sides. These ends act as handles so the dessert can be lifted out to slice.

To assemble I either drizzle coffee into the pan, add a layer of ladyfinger, then drizzle more coffee, or I break the sheet of ladyfinger and dip them into the coffee. If I'm dipping them, I only dip them on one side since the homemade ladyfingers absorb the coffee quicker.

Then I add a third of the cream and spread it very evenly and as level as I can. An offset spatula helps a lot with this. Then I repeated this two more times. Below shows the first two layers.

Then once I had my final layer of cream as smooth as I could I dusted the top with cocoa powder. Some people are adamantly against the cocoa powder top, and I think this is only really when there's a thick layer of powder, so I just do mine really lightly. However, many people use chocolate shavings instead, so that's an option.

This needs to go into the fridge to set , or if its winter, you can put it in your garage for 6 hours minimum. Just make sure you cover it, or you may be as unfortunate as I and have a mouse walk on it. Pictured below are the tiny adorable disgusting little mouse footprints. IF you are unfortunate enough to have this happen, all is not lost. using a kitchen torch burn the affected cocoa powder and scrape it off very well, the torch the now exposed layer of cream to 'sanitize' it and re-dust it. But maybe don't serve it to strangers if this happens.

The tiramisu in Neo Yokio has a chocolate heart in the top, so I made some out of tempered chocolate by printing out hearts, then layering a sheet of acetate on top and piping hearts, then adding stems to them so they could be stuck in a slice of tiramisu.

Finally, once it had set, I lifted the whole thing out of the pan by the parchment paper and sliced it into squares. Each square got a heart.

[izzyspussy]

i just had three greyhounds and a liqueur tiramisu lol AMA

[sweetlilbird]

I've never had Tiramisu before, so I bought a slice with my dinner (which was really gross by the way, but I had a gift card for this resturant so 🙃) and I'm pretty sure they used coffee liqueur rather than actual coffee. I feel super sick to my stomach now...