Tackling Tiramisu

There are very few non-chocolate desserts that I will give the time of day.  My absolute favorite non-chocolate dessert is butterscotch brownies, which continue to baffle me with their non-chocolaty deliciousness.  There are some things that cannot be rationally explained and I believe this is one of them.  Next on my list of acceptable non-chocolate desserts is tiramisu, but only a handful that I have tasted in my life are up to snuff.  One absolute deal-breaker is any trace of almond.  In my opinion, it does not belong in tiramisu.

I tried to make tiramisu once before in my life.  It was not a success.  I went a little overboard on the coffee and put in about twice what the recipe called for because those lady fingers just didn’t look saturated enough as I was assembling the dessert.  The next day, my tiramisu was sitting in a puddle.  The taste wasn’t bad, but I definitely had a texture issue to work out.  Unfortunately, I had volunteered to make this dessert because my mom’s boss and his family were coming over for dinner.  They were sports and cleaned their plates.   It was on that fateful day that I learned firsthand the valuable lesson that one should never prepare an unfamiliar dish for the first time when company is coming over, particularly company you would like to remain in good standing with.  Instead, I would highly recommend preparing something that you have perfected.

My mother did not get fired in case you were wondering.

Since my tiramisu had knocked me down instead of picking me up, it was a while before I was emotionally ready to tackle it again.  My neighbor Anna is Italian and a wonderful cook and baker, so I decided it was safe to try to make tiramisu again with her.

I only allowed myself to measure the dry ingredients and did not deviate from the recipe in the slightest.

For the most part.

When Anna and I were discussing the ingredients for the dessert, I offered to pick up the lady fingers.  She informed me that that would not be necessary as we would be making the cake portion ourselves because it would be a better texture and flavor.  Boy was she right on about that.

This recipe is a long one, but it’s not difficult.  It originates from Southern Living magazine, circa 1988. Heregoes:

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Preheat the oven to 400 degrees and line a half-sheet pan with wax paper and then butter and flour the wax paper so the cake does not stick.

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Separate 4 eggs and let them come to room temperature.

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Melt 3 tablespoons of butter and let it cool.

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Brew some potent coffee and put 1 cup of it aside to cool. (I would recommend drinking the rest of it if you’re sleepy because this is going to take a while.)  Add ¼ cup of sugar and a miniature of Kahlua to the coffee.

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Sift together 1 cup of all-purpose flour, ¼ teaspoon of baking powder, and ¼ teaspoon of salt.

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In another bowl, beat together the egg yolks and ¾ cup of sugar until light and thick.  This will take about 5 minutes so I would recommend stretching beforehand if using a handheld mixer.

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It will look something like this when it’s ready.

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Then pour in 1 tablespoon of lemon juice, 1 tablespoon of water, and 1 teaspoon of ‘niller extract.

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I love vanilla extract.

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I also really like this nifty little gadget that allows one to dust cocoa powder on things.

Sorry, I got sidetracked by the idea of something chocolate.

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In yet another bowl, beat the egg whites on low speed until they are frothy and then add in ¼ cup of sugar.  Increase the speed of the mixer to medium and beat the egg whites until they are stiff but don’t overbeat.

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Add half of the egg white mixture and half of the flour mixture to the egg yolk mixture.  Fold the mixtures together until combined.  Repeat with the remaining half of the mixtures.

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Pour the batter onto the sheet pan.

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Spread the batter evenly across the sheet pan using a spatula.

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Then pop it in the oven for 15 or 20 minutes or until golden brown on top and the center springs back.

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Let it cool for a few minutes in the pan and then turn it out onto wax paper and let it cool completely.

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Carefully remove the wax paper from the bottom of the cake as that is not a texture you want in your tiramisu.

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Then, cut off the edges of the sponge cake so no one has to experience a crunchy/stiff bite of tiramisu. Remember, it’s all about texture.

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For the filling, beat 1 cup of heavy cream until it forms peaks.

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Then beat together ½ cup sugar and 1 pound of mascarpone cheese.

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Fold together the mascarpone mixture and the heavy cream.  If you’re feeling rebellious, add a few drops of vanilla extract into the mixture.  In my experience, a little extra vanilla extract never hurt anything.

It was Anna’s idea.

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Next, cut the cake in half and place one half on a serving dish.

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Brush half of the coffee mixture onto the cake using a pastry brush.

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It should look something like this.

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Dust the cake generously with cocoa powder.

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Then sprinkle on some chocolate shavings.

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Spread half of the filling mixture over the first layer of cake.

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Easier said than done. Don’t be alarmed if some of the chocolate shavings get mixed in.  No one will ever know and it will still taste good.

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Repeat this process with the second layer of cake and filling.

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Coffee mixture…

Cocoa powder and chocolate shavings.

Filling…

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Some more cocoa powder…

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Smooth the sides with a knife.

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Decorate the top with dark and white chocolate shavings.

Then let the cake sit overnight in the refrigerator and enjoy the next day (preferably not with your mom’s boss unless this is at least the second time you’re making this recipe).

Here are the recipe cards:

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(We deviated from the recipe a little bit by adding Kahlua instead of sherry or Marsala.  Don’t tell anyone.)

Y’all hurry back,

Sugarlump

Inherited Mischief

I’ve recently taken an interest in target shooting.  Most people who know me find this surprising/troubling.  Not to worry, you skeptics, I only care to shoot inanimate objects.

Uncle Santa gave me, my sister and cousins each a box of shells and some targets for Christmas.  I think it’s one of my favorite gifts ever.  Maybe next year I’ll ask for a gun.  Watch out.

ammo

I was so excited to go out shooting the day after Christmas, but the weather was most uncooperative.  A nice rotation of rain/sleet/snow carried on all day so my box of shells is still unopened.

Christmas night, as we were discussing our plans for the following day, Granny shared with us that she didn’t want her girls shooting guns.  My dad called her out on this immediately because she shot guns all the time growing up.  She said that didn’t matter; she still didn’t want us shooting guns.  My dad overruled her on a count of hypocrisy.

All four of us are also adults and can shoot a gun even if our Granny doesn’t want us to, but we didn’t dare bring that up.  We are and always will be her “babies” even though we’re no longer 2, 3, 5 and 7 like she thinks we are.

It’s no secret that my Granny was somewhat of a mischievous child.  Shooting guns was just the beginning.  We asked Granny to tell us some stories that night and it wasn’t long before we were all laughing so hard it hurt.  There were some really good ones that involved playing hooky.

We asked Granny what she did when she skipped school one day for an entire day.

Granny: “Well, we had never seen a trial.”

Family in unison: “You skipped school to go to the courthouse?!?!”

Granny: “Yes, and we sat there all day and there wasn’t even a trial so we just went back to school.”

After we all died laughing, we just sat there for a few minutes processing Granny’s rather unusual item on her bucket list that warranted skipping school.

The next story was even better.

One day in high school, several couples who were “courting” decided to leave school without permission.

Granny said, “Now, our principle was a mean old man and he stuttered. “

Upon being caught, the couples were ordered back to school.  They walked down the hall, past the principle, who had a habit of pulling up his britches when he was mad.

Granny stood up and hiked up her pants in the front using her forearms, imitating the principle.

We all just about lost it and waited for the punchline with the stutter.

Granny said, “He was so mad, he didn’t say a word.”

We all sat there for a minute and then questioned Granny as to what the fact that he stuttered had to do with the story if he never even said anything.

She just wanted us to know that about him, evidently.

That made us laugh even harder.

Granny always calls us the craziest bunch of young’ins.   I wonder where we got that from.

Y’all mind your Grannies,

Sugarlump

Christmases Past

I stumbled across a few gems from Christmases in the late 1980’s/early 1990′s.

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Evidently, I used to be a Christmas angel.

(My mother just informed me that this was not a good day.

Apparently, I did not want to have my picture taken.

Can you blame me?

Two words, Mom: white tights.)

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While sitting to have my picture made was not high on my list, I certainly got my money’s worth out of my toys.  Never was a child more content to play with her dollhouse for hours on end.

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I enjoyed commanding the attention of many a den full of family members.

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I was happy to pitch in and help document the family Christmas.

(Thankfully, Fashion Police hasn’t gotten wind of these pants.  I was a very skinny toddler and all I can say about these pants is that my mother must have had high hopes that I would expand drastically and require pant legs large enough to store my toys in.  No such luck.  I bet even now I wouldn’t have an issue getting those things over my thighs.)

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Christmases were going swimmingly.

(Aside from the fashion.)

And then suddenly I wasn’t the only grandchild anymore….

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By 1993, there were four.

Oh how Christmases have changed over the last couple of decades…

Merry Christmas, y’all,

Sugarlump

60th Anniversary Party

This year marks my Granny and Papa’s 80th birthdays and 60th wedding anniversary.  A celebration was most definitely in order.  We put together an “open house” type party at their church and served cake and punch.

The happy couple in front of the treats.

Aunt Vickie had the cake and cupcakes made.  They were beautiful and delicious.

As we were setting up for the party, we had a bit of an incident.  I was in the kitchen with Lauren and Aunt Vickie and I was looking for a lighter to light candles in the function hall.  I opened the drawer on the left to find a lighter for the candles.  As I opened the drawer, a mouse popped out and ran into the back of the cabinet.  Cousin Lauren, Aunt Vickie and I shrieked as I nearly jumped out of my skin and back about 5 feet.  I don’t remember how it happened in my state of shock, but the drawer was then somehow closed.   Aunt Vickie, Cousin Lauren and I agreed that we had not hallucinated, that the tissue paper in the drawer had been shredded by the little creature, and that we would pull it together and carry on with the festivities after this traumatic event.  That is all I would like to say about that.

All we could find to light the candles was a box of small matches.  I wasn’t about to open any more drawers in the kitchen.   I already said enough about that.

We nominated Uncle Brian to light the candles since he seemed to have more of a handle on how not to burn himself instead of the candle.

Caramelized mums.   Approximately 9 minutes after poor Uncle Brian lit all 24 candles, we had to blow them out so we didn’t burn the place down.  So much for the ambiance.

Aunt Vickie had a beautiful throw made with pictures of Granny and Papa when they were first “courting” and married.  I know they will treasure it.

Nobody wanted to sit at the tables until cake was served.  We had a full perimeter.

Before we served the cake, my dad thanked everyone for coming and decided to ask Granny and Papa a few questions about getting married.  My Mom had been asking them about it before everyone arrived and we all thought the stories were worth sharing because my grandparents actually eloped.

The Wedding/Elopement:

The story goes that Granny and Papa were out and about in Burkesville on a Saturday night as was typical.  Granny’s parents had even seen them around town and were pleased to see that they were having a good time (little did they know what was cooking…).  Granny and Papa knew of a minister in the county who would marry them so they took two of their friends as witnesses and had the minister marry them that evening.

My dad asked Granny to talk about what the minister said at the wedding and Granny said she can’t remember because she was just focused on saying “I do.”

My dad then asked how much the wedding cost, to which Papa replied that it was “very expensive.”  The minister didn’t officially charge anything to marry them but apparently would take $10.  Papa has decided that that $10 was “money well spent.”

Given that my Papa was such an obedient son and respectful person, it’s still hard for all of us to believe that they eloped.  When asked whose idea it was to elope, Papa pointed at Granny and everybody just laughed. 

The story gets even more interesting because they kept their marriage a secret for 6 weeks.  One day my Papa walked into Granny’s parent’s house to see Granny and Mammie, Granny’s mother, confronted him, saying she knew he would put off telling them as long as he could (evidently, Granny had spilled the beans but neglected to let Papa know that the secret was out).  Papa said he didn’t know if he should “faint or go blind.”

It was great to hear them tell those stories.  I hadn’t even heard some of the details before. 

And then it was time to eat and visit!

Quite a turnout as you can tell by the cake.  And Granny was worried no one would come.

I was in charge of cutting this cake.  Didn’t I do a beautiful job?

(Not.)

Granny and Papa and their boys, Uncle Brian and my dad.

Granny and Papa and the full squad: sons, daughters-in-law, and grandbabies (3 out of 4).

Only 3 of the 4 grandchildren have been at each their 40th, 50th and 60th anniversaries.  At the 40th, Kristen wasn’t born yet, at the 50th, I had just started high school and couldn’t miss that much school to travel from Boston to Kentucky.  And during the 60th, my sister, Eugene, was missing because she is currently studying abroad. Let the record show that cousin Lauren has perfect attendance.

Apparently, we were in need of some bossing.  It was her party after all.

She realized I had caught her in the act.

This is so adorable, I can’t stand it.

This is equally adorable.  Clearly, if there’s one thing my family knows how to do, it’s how to laugh.

The party was full of reunion of old friends and extended family, storytelling, and laughter.   Granny and Papa seemed to have a great time and really enjoyed seeing everybody who came. 

Congratulations on 80 years of life and 60 years of life together, Granny and Papa!  We all love you very much.

Y’all give each other some sugar,

Sugarlump

The Addictive Blog Award

Thank you to Peggy Isaacs for nominating me for the Addictive Blog award.  I’m so glad someone else enjoys my little furballs as much as I do!

Award Rules:

  1. Thank the person awarding you.
  2. Share a little about why you blog and how the journey started.
  3. Paste the blog award on your page.
  4. Nominate 10 other bloggers you feel deserve the award.

Why I blog:

I started this blog as a way to capture sweet memories and experiences in my life and share them with my family and friends.  I was inspired by the Pioneer Woman, who I first discovered on the Food Network and whose blog I now read religiously.  Even though I’m not a huge fan of writing, somehow writing posts (to go along with the absurd amount of pictures I now take) has turned into a sort of ritual of reflection through storytelling.  It makes me feel more connected and appreciative.

Somewhat coincidentally, I started this blog just before I moved to a new place on my own and it has been a great way for my family and friends to keep tabs on me and see what I’m up to in my new hometown of Nashville.

Unexpectedly, I have met some wonderful bloggers through this journey, who make my day when they “like” my post or leave a kind comment.

I don’t know where I’d be without this blog.

Blogs I find Addicting:

  1. http://thesimplecountrylife.com/
  2. http://annewheaton.co.uk/about/
  3. http://auburnmeadowfarm.com/blog/
  4. http://thehappyfiles.wordpress.com/
  5. http://texascatny.wordpress.com/
  6. http://icanhas.cheezburger.com/
  7. http://thecatniptimes.wordpress.com/
  8. http://littlemiao.wordpress.com/
  9. http://mecookyummyoneday.wordpress.com/
  10. http://homestead101.wordpress.com/

Thank you to my nominees for making me smile, laugh, scratch my head and reevaluate my life on a regular basis.  I’m hooked.

Y’all come back now, ya hear?

Sugarlump

Passport Service

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In honor of my 100th post on the Sugarlump, I want to share a very special part of my childhood. When my cousin Lauren and I were little, we loved to play in Papa’s old office, which was attached to … Continue reading 

Cricket, Cricket

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For the 4th of July, Eugene and I headed to Burkesville to see our extended family.  As we went to bed on Tuesday night out in the country, we couldn’t help but notice how loud the crickets were. It’s funny … Continue reading 

Family Visit: Scene I

I haven’t posted much this past week as I have been a tad busy with out-of-town guests (my immediate family), visiting my grandparents in Kentucky, picking beans out of the garden, making potato and chicken salad (clarification: potato salad and chicken salad, not salad with chicken and potatoes.  That would be weird.), cleaning up my house, drinking enough water to match the rate at which I am sweating it out due to the triple digit heat wave, breaking up and shelling beans to put up, wrangling my cats, watching the clouds, working at my day job, watering my scorched container garden, sending thank you notes, catching up on recorded reruns of Pioneer Woman, tracking severe weather across the U.S., and remembering my name.

It has been quite a week, but a good one.

I had Mexican food for dinner Friday, Sunday and Monday nights.

I repeat: It was a good week.

It was also nice to see my family.  We tend to have some good laughs when we’re together.

The fun began when my sister drove down from Lexington and we picked up my parents at the airport the Friday before last.

Getting down to business, we drove straight to Mexican Restaurant #1 for dinner.

My Dad ordered a large Margarita, which was served in what seemed to be a punch bowl with a stem.

I had taken a few minutes to decide what kind of drink I wanted and I was telling the waitress that I would like a strawberry daiquiri as my Dad’s water basin of a drink arrived.

The waitress then asked me what size drink I would like.  Seeing my eyes bulge out of my head as they placed my Dad’s drink on the table, she cracked a smile and devilishly asked:

“You want big?”

I was a little hesitant to order a drink as large as my head, but I kind of wanted one.   The waitress was a very perceptive lady and concluded:

“You want big.”

A few minutes later, this is what arrived.

Yes, Eugene, that is my drink.

As you can see, we were off to a great start with the family visit.

We enjoyed a tasty dinner and caught up on what had gone on in the past week.  I was telling my parents about taking my cats, Gus and Scarlett, to the vet for the first time since moving to Nashville.  I had to take them in for a distemper shot and I was going on about how Scarlett had behaved quite badly, per usual. I believe at this point in the conversation Eugene was sort of half-listening as she tried to make a dent in the 4 plates of food she had been served because she looked up confused and asked:

“Wait, she had to get a shot for his temper?”

We all died laughing. Another great “Julia-ism.”

Oh, you crack me up, Eugene.

More to come on the rest of the family weekend.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

Clown in the Door

When I visited Kentucky in the summer as a child, I spent my time between Granny and Papa’s house and Grandmother’s house.  Because I didn’t have any cousins on my Mom’s side of the family at the time, I often requested that my cousin Lauren come with me to play at Grandmother’s house.

Naturally, we spent a lot of time playing with barbies and babydolls.  Occasionally, however, I took it upon myself to tell my poor cousin Lauren a story about Grandmother’s old house.

One day, I made up some absurd story that there was a clown trapped in this door.  I told Lauren that the clown died in there, which made the glass wavy, and that its spirit haunted the house.

I really don’t understand what my logic (if any) was in crafting this highly plausible tale, but cousin Lauren seemed to eat it right up.

I think it is relevant that the telling of this story coincided with my Nancy Drew phase.

Although it seems my goal here was to freak out my cousin, I was most successful in freaking myself out.

That darn door still gives me the creeps to this day.

I guess it serves me right.

Y’all play nice,

Sugarlump