Not your Olive Garden's tiramisu

So listen.  I don't even really know what tiramisu is exactly.  I have boycotted restaurant tiramisu because of the ubiquitousness.  Dirtbunnies hate hype.  But I saw a recipe for pannetone tiramisu and I thought it might be an interesting way to make use of at least some of the gigantic chocolate pannetone I got at Christmas time, and I actually made it around then and ended up ditching the recipe because Clarabelle told me I could never eat sugar again.  It was OK.  Kinda soggy.

But, I still had A LOT of pannetone.  So's I decided to make another one (sans recipe, because this is when I remembered throwing it away).  So here we have a non-gross tiramisu-like dessert that I improvised from a recipe I made once about four months ago.

STEP PRIMO

"Oh, crap.  I don't have the recipe any more."  Try to remember what was in it.  Kahlua, right?  "Oh hell."  Remember buche de noel filled with espresso mascarpone cream, look it up, and decide to steal it for tiramisu filling.


STEP SECONDO

"Oh, crap.  We're out of Kahlua."  Put trip to liquor store on to-do list.  Don't go to liquor store because lazy, because don't feel like it, and because the state-run liquor stores in the Commonwealth are depressing and make me feel like a derelict.  Feel guilt and shame.  By coincidence, notice that there is a liquor store next to the Dupont Fresh Fields when happen to be there for another reason.  Buy Kahlua.  Hump it back to the office, along with groceries, then stash in commuting bag.  Remember that there is a no-alcohol policy in the office (because we used to have a drinker, yes we did).  Worry about getting busted.  Decide on defense:  "You've got to be kidding me!  I have an unopened bottle that I am taking home today.  Are you telling me that the United States Government does not want me to run errands--On Foot-- during my unpaid lunch break?  Are you telling me that the United States Government wants me to run errands BY AUTO, thereby contributing to gridlock, global warming, and the obesity epidemic?"  Figure that'll get me a "just this once" exception.  Imaginary argument in my head prompts other imaginary arguments in my head about work stuff and past injustices, blahblahblah.  Not much work is accomplished.


STEP TERZO

Defrost pannetone and eyeball it to estimate what size dish I'll need.  I won't know if I guessed correctly until the end.  Let the adventure begin!


STEP QUARTO

Slice pannetone.  Zap a couple ounces of cream and a giant heaping teaspoon of instant espresso for about 30 seconds.  Stir to make sure all the instant espresso granules are dissolved, and set aside to cool off a bit. 

No, I don't drink espresso made from instant espresso powder.  Gross.  But I will cook with it when I need strong coffee flavor without much liquid. 

Pour a decent-sized glob of Kahlua into the bottom of the dish and swirl it around to coat.  Arrange half the slices of pannetone in the dish and let them soak up the Kahlua, then flip them over and brush the other side...... 

"Oh, crap.  This side already has Kahlua on it and there's not enough left in the dish for the bottom side."  Flip the slices back over and brush the non-liquored sides with a generous amount of Kahlua, but stop before you get to "soggy" or "likely to become soggy."  No, I don't know where that is.  You have to guess.

STEP QUINTO

Make the espresso cream.  Blend one tub of mascarpone and the cream-espresso powder mixture with the underpowered hand-held mixer, because Mr. Kitchen Aid mixer is dead.  "Oh, crap.  It's getting all grainy." 

In a separate bowl, whip a generous amount of cream with the underpowered hand-held mixer.  "Oh crap.  Forgot the sugar."  Dump the two tablespoons of sugar remaining in the canister into the cream.  Decide against getting out the step stool to retrieve new bag of sugar from the top shelf.  "Oh, crap.  Hey, what the fuck is this?"  Contemplate box of superfine sugar that I bought for a recipe around the holidays.  But which recipe?  Can't remember.  Decide to open fight cellophane wrapped on the box
and use superfine sugar and pour in about another quarter cup.   Recommence to mixing.  "God.  I hope this isn't too sweet.  I hope it's sweet enough."  Wonder why the hell it's taking so long.  "Oh, crap.  I probably could have done this faster myself with the balloon whisk."  Remember how much work that is, and settle for slow electric-powered whipped cream whipping until I'm pretty sure I have peaks that are stiff enough not to collapse under the mascarpone but soft enough to remain appropriately creamy.

Contemplate grainy espresso-mascarpone.  "I wonder if I fold in more cheese whether that will mitigate the clumpiness?"  Add another tub of mascarpone and stir in gently with rubber spatula.  The result is glossy and beautiful:

STEP SESTO

Accomplish all of the above while managing not to crush beagle who has wedged himself in the space between your feet and the cabinet.  

He's not trying to kill you, and he doesn't want to die by getting stomped.  He just loves his Bunny ever so much (even though the mixer makes a bad noise).

STEP SETTIMO

Stir a glob of whipped cream into the cheese to lighten the texture, then gently fold in the rest of the cream, trying not to work all of the air out.  Keep going until it's farly homogeneous.  It's doesn't have to be perfect.  (Clarabelle sez:  "Yes it does."  Give Clarabelle a smack.)  Spread half the cheese mixture onto the Kahlua-brushed pannetone slices in the dish.

STEP OTTAVO

Brush the remaining slices of pannetone with Kahlua and arrange them wet side down on top of cheese layer. 

Brush the tops with more Kahlua.  Spread remaining cheese mixture on top.

STEP NONO

Engage in internal debate:

DB:  Finito!  hahahahaha
C:  No you aren't.
DB:  Am so.  What do you mean?
C:  There's no garnish.  What kind of presentation is that?  It looks terribly amateurish.
DB:  Because Dirtbunny is not a professional pastry chef, duh. 
C:  You think you're so clever with your little links, but nobody gets it.  People just think it's weird.  You should give up.
ADP:  Shut up Clarabelle.  Leave her alone.  It looks lovely, Bunny.  I can't wait to try some.
DB:  Maybe I should give up.
C:  Finally.
ADP:  I mean it  Clarabelle.  I will not tolerate this sort of treatment of my Bunny.
DB:  It's just a made-up recipe.  It's meant to be rustic.
C:  "Rustic" Pish.
ADP:  *menacing glare at Clarabelle*
C:  *cowers*
DB:  No.  I can do a little better.

STEP DECIMO

Dust liberally with cocoa. 

DB: NOW it's finished.
ADP:  I stand corrected. I didn't think it could be improved upon, but wow.  Perfetto.  No one cooks like you, Dirtbunny.  It's an honor to be your imaginary boyfriend.
DB: *beams*

~FINE~

And now, just because I feel like it, a gratuitous photo of my boy Gio Chiellini, who has been sorely missed while he's been out injured: