stacey . smoore . the staceyfish . 
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Espresso. Brandy. Ladyfingers. Chocolate. Marscapone.
When you look at that list you may find yourself wondering, "What possibly could go wrong?"
And if you answered an enthusiastic "Nothing!" you would be so, so wrong. I sure as hell hope you didn't bet the farm on that one.
Tiramisu, at its best, is light yet rich, warm-tasting with brandy notes, with espresso to offset the sweetness, and because everything is better with chocolate, a liberal dusting of some Scharffen Berger. However, when executed improperly, it's flat tasting, bitter, and soggy. Trust me, you don't want soggy tiramisu.
It's one of those dishes where everything has to go right. Because of that, I won't order it in restaurants anymore, not even the one that Cory took me to for dessert on my birthday, because they screw it up and frankly, mine is a hell of a lot better (sorry Cory, I know you meant well!).
Luckily, if you have a good recipe, like the one I'm about to share with you, you can't go wrong. Too many recipes for tiramisu are too vague and include verbiage like "stir a couple of times" or "heat until lukewarm" and that sort of imprecision, while maybe appearing a little less intimidating to the novice cook, is a recipe for disaster. For soggy, flaccid, bitter disaster. And you know I would never do that to you.
Until I made this dessert at home, I had never had panna cotta in the United States.
I hadn't even heard of this indulgent dish until a couple of months ago, when I met someone in Korea who had actually taught at the Culinary Institute of America. I haven't met many people who are bigger foodies than me, but he definitely qualified. A few of us were looking for a restaurant in Seoul for dinner and we decided to pop into an Italian place, and my chef comrade ordered it for dessert, served with a perfect raspberry sauce on top. "Not too shabby," I thought, but didn't think too much of it again until Cory and I's honeymoon.
After our day trip into Siena, we returned to Florence intent on finding a classic Tuscan dinner. We looked through our guidebooks and found a place or two that looked promising on paper but were totally uninspiring when viewed in person. So we started to wander the streets, looking for those wonderful Italian hole-in-the-walls that you hear about from all your friends who were lucky enough to go to Italy when they were still in college.
All of a sudden we passed by a Il Latini, a restaurant that looked very cozy and the menu was actually entirely in Italian, which I took to be a good sign that this place was authentic. It was about 7:05 and the place didn't open until 7:30, so we decided to wait, queuing up like, well, normal civilized people would. About ten minutes later a man walked up and asked if anyone there spoke English, and almost all of us answered that we did. "This is the third time this week that my wife and I have been here, and trust me, the wait is worth it." Cory and I grinned at each other at this, and the man continued, "I know you all think that you're lined up like rational, courteous people, but trust me, when it gets closer to opening all the locals are going to start massing around the door. Lines will mean nothing!"
Well, you know what they say, when in Rome....
So we gaggle up, and before long the man is proven correct when these people start amassing around us, trying to get in ahead of us even though we've been waiting twenty-five minutes. 'Oh hell no!' I thought to myself. "If anyone tries to get around you, throw 'em an elbow!" was Cory's husbandly advice. And throw an elbow I did!
We managed to get in at the first seating and were seated at a table with another couple. The huge bottle of house wine was already on the table, and the food starting coming almost immediately. We never saw a menu, but everything they brought was superb: insalata caprese, pate on crostini, and tabbouleh made with barley for antipasti, Tuscan tomato and bread soup for me and gnocchi with pesto and sun-dried tomatoes for Cory for primi, roast beef for me and roasted lamb for him for secondi, and then a delicious dessert wine, biscotti, espresso, (something delicious that I can't remember), and, of course, panna cotta with a velvety chocolate sauce for dolci. It was an amazing meal (quoth Cory: "my brain pretty much shut down so that the only thing working was the taste buds") and an unforgettable dining experience in my favorite city.
It was also, of course, a wonderful reminder of a dessert that is fast becoming a favorite.
