Tiramisu and I were not always on good terms. We had a very rocky start. I spent more than 25 years of life disliking Tiramisu. I remember feeling tricked as a kid, spitting it out when I tasted bitter coffee. As a teenager, I began to warm up to coffee, so I gave it another go, only to spit it out again because it was soaked in a sickening amount of alcohol. A liquid-y puddle of Tiramisu is, not too be too dramatic, a disgrace to its rich and creamy potential.
Fast forward to my twenties, living in France. My dear friend, Lorie, invited me to her house for dinner. For dessert she offered Speculoos & Raspberry Tiramisu with no coffee and no alcohol. I was sold. I finally stopped crinkling my nose in disgust at the mention of Tiramisu, now knowing that Tiramisu without coffee was a thing.
Fast forward to last Christmas in France. The entire time I have known Fabien, his Dad has been talking about his wife’s Tiramisu. Martine, Fabien’s stepmom, is known for her her amazing cooking. Everything she makes is delicious and memorable. And so, last Christmas, she finally made her famous Tiramisu for us. Fabien’s Dad was right. Incroyable. The texture was perfect–creamy and rich, light and smooth. The coffee flavor was bold without being overpowering. Despite having had plenty to eat, I had seconds and thirds. It’s that good.
That one evening made up for every prior negative Tiramisu experience. And now, thanks to Martine, the spell has lifted, and I am now, Abby, Tiramisu-lover. She was kind enough to share her recipe. Something so easy to make, surely should not taste this good, but it does.