• rich, creamy things
  • a strong sense of oneupsmanship


Tell the kids that they might have previously tasted Tiramisù, and you might have previously made Tiramisù, but you will now make it together, thus elevating your collective Tiramisù experience.

Say “Tiramisù” so many times, the word loses all meaning.

Decide to go with The Pioneer Woman’s recipe, because it looks straightforward and tasty.

Go to a fine liquor warehouse with your kids and look like a degenerate as you debate Marsala wine vs. brandy and bark at them to keep their hands off the tiny bottles of vodka.

Remind your kids just how many steps there are to the recipe for you to potentially f**k up, to mitigate their expectations.

Begin cooking at 5:00pm, because there’s nothing better than starting a recipe with the kids that probably won’t be ready before bedtime.

Impress your kids with your ability to separate eggs.

Tell them that it’s not okay to taste the brandy now, but it’s totally okay to taste it once it’s mixed into the recipe.

Double-boil the zabaglione like a pro and get a mild contact buzz.

Pull out the mascarpone to bring to room temperature.

Make a mad dash to the store when you realize you don’t have enough mascarpone, because you apparently don’t remember how many ounces constitute a pound. (Hint: it rhymes with brixteen)

Reminisce about the era when you fell in love with Tiramisù and tried it everywhere it was offered, even from the Trader Joe’s freezer case. (Hint: take it fresh, or not at all)

Caress your stand-mixer as it lovingly whips your heavy cream.

Fold it all together gently, then swear you’re going to use the beater for just a second, yet act all surprised when it ends up a bit overwhipped.


Totes cheat and use powdered espresso.

Layer with these weird soft lady fingers that taste awesomely like poundcake.

Be liberal with the cocoa dusting, because it’s fun.

Let it marry for 2 hours in the fridge and feed some to your bath-fresh sweethearts directly before lights-out.

Cackle at your previous concern that you wouldn’t be able to eat it all up in the 24-36 hour window of deliciousness while eating your second chunk.

*Originally posted on Revelations in Absurdity.

How about you?

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