Tiramisu

        In order to redeem myself for showing up to last weeks pot luck dinner empty handed, I decided that this week I would make tiramisu, a seemingly good decision seeing as this is a classic Italian desert and is relatively simple if you have the right ingredients and tools. Of course, I had all the right ingredients and it wasn’t until after purchasing them that I realized I was missing one essential tool: an electric mixer. And so I was thus transported back to a time without electric mixers, when people beat egg whites into soft, glossy peaks by hand, egg yolks into a thick custard, and cream into whipped cream. It was me, a whisk, and a two-hour arm workout. Another bonus of making this lovely desert was that I finally figured out how to use my mocha espresso pot! I needed a good amount of espresso and kahlua for dipping the lady fingers so I went online and discovered that there are many tricks to making the best poor man’s espresso (it is called that because a mocha does not have the full benefit of pressure that is allowed by actual espresso machines so the coffee is slightly weaker than actual espresso). In the end, I turned out with a dish that I can actually say was completely hand-made down to the coffee and the chocolate shavings on top, and even though I was exhausted and sore afterwards, I learned a valuable lesson about cooking. Before all of our gadgets, the most important kitchen tools were the arms, the hands, and a whole lot of love and patience. Italian cooking is a craft that is rooted in the recipes, stories, and labors from the kitchens of people’s homes. These recipes are the ones that still fill our own kitchens with heavenly smells and fond memories.  Almost everything one does in the kitchen was and still can be accomplished by hand and in the end, the result is so much sweeter because you are a part of the process. There is therefore something to be said about the physical handling of food: it is essential to one’s relationship with cooking because it builds an understanding of food that is greater than the look, the smell, and the taste.  I now actually understand what makes cream turn into a frothy, fluffy, light-as-a-cloud mixture because my arms spent twenty minutes making it that way. And so without rambling any longer, I will leave you with the fruit of my labors: a fantastic, creamy, sweet, rich tiramisu that I was proud to share with friends.