365 True Things: 131/Tiramisu

This evening we had dinner with our friends Carolee and Jean-Philippe. They are moving in ten days to Pennsylvania, where Carolee will become head of the plant pathology department at Penn State. She is a dynamo, and she will no doubt work magic in her new position, mentoring both faculty and students; promoting diversity; making fruitful contacts with industry; bringing in money to launch new, innovative projects—and much much more. She's already been hired to teach a spin class at the local Y.

Carolee is from Pennsylvania originally, so it's not as great a leap for her as it would be for, say, me. Still: Salinas has been their home for a good long while, and they are leaving a beautiful house behind, not to mention California weather. Though they don't seem too disappointed to be leaving the drought behind . . .

We met Carolee and Jean-Philippe (he's a Swiss free spirit, nuff said) at a Christmas party at the home of our mutual friends through music Andrew and Alison, maybe fifteen years ago. We were standing in the kitchen, and Carolee asked me, "Tell me what you love." Not the boring old "What do you do?" but "What do you love?" I replied that I loved climbing—because I'd recently taken up the sport and I was smitten. It turned out she had been a climber and mountaineer when she lived in Switzerland. We immediately hit it off. Since then, we've all stayed friends, though somewhat separately.

Last August, I invited the four of them and another couple of friends over for dinner. That was the first time we all got together, perhaps since we first met. It was also the last time I saw Alison, practically speaking: she died in December, of a brain tumor. She was a beautiful, gentle soul, as well as a wicked good cellist; and she touched many children's lives as an elementary school teacher. I didn't know her well, but I miss her sweet spirit.

Meanwhile, Andrew has moved to San Francisco for work, though he comes to the Peninsula most every weekend. Not that we see him. . . . But now that I'm reminded, maybe I'll suggest a hike sometime soon.

So right now I'm musing on life's changes: friends coming and going, whether through displacement or death; how we fall out of touch—or not. Facebook may help us keep tabs on Carolee and Jean-Philippe, but it's not the same as getting together for a good walk, a good chat, and wrapping up with good food. We'll just have to go to Pennsylvania and visit. Stranger things have happened.

This evening's meal was at a restaurant that, the last time we got together, came up in conversation because according to Jean-Philippe it has the best tiramisu around. It was our first visit to Dishes Bistro, owned by a Brazilian-Austrian couple, and it was very good. And David agrees with J-P about the tiramisu: best he's tasted hereabouts.

And so, in honor of Carolee and Jean-Philippe, I'm posting a random recipe I found by googling "best tiramisu recipe"—not scientific, but the five-star rating assures me it's at least pretty good. It's got to be worth a try. And when I do make it, I'll be thinking of them thriving, of that I can be sure, in Pennsylvania.

Tiramisu

6 egg yolks
3/4 cup white sugar
2/3 cup milk
1 1/4 cups heavy cream
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 pound mascarpone cheese
1/4 strong brewed coffee, room temperature
2 Tb rum
2 3-oz. packages ladyfingers
1 Tb unsweetened cocoa powder

1. In a medium saucepan, whisk together egg yolks and sugar until well blended. Whisk in milk and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly until mixture boils. Boil gently for 1 minute, remove from heat and allow to cool slightly. Cover tightly and chill in refrigerator 1 hour.
2. In a medium bowl, beat cream with vanilla until stiff peaks form. 
3. Whisk mascarpone into yolk mixture until smooth.
4. In a small bowl, combine coffee and rum. Split ladyfingers in half lengthwise and drizzle with coffee mixture.
5. Arrange half of soaked ladyfingers in bottom of a 7x11-inch dish. Spread half of mascarpone mixture over ladyfingers, then half of whipped cream. Repeat layers. Sprinkle with cocoa. Cover and refrigerate 4 to 6 hours, until set.