A year earlier, my friend Alex had signed us both up on a whim for this contest, despite the fact neither of us was a proficient baker, nor a die-hard tiramisu enthusiast.
But here we were, decked out in cream-coloured aprons and puffy white chef’s hats, pretending we knew what we were doing.
My first attempt at making tiramisu, a few days prior to the competition itself, was utterly disastrous. For starters, I couldn’t find ladyfinger biscuits, despite having trekked around at least four supermarkets. I was forced to use almond fingers, which were dense, crumbling and overwhelmingly almond-flavoured (surprise, surprise). I was too lazy to cool the coffee beforehand, and in lieu of cocoa powder, I poured on a bucketload of sickeningly sweet hot chocolate powder, which settled heavily on the delicate cream like the dense volcanic ash of Mt Vesuvius on Pompeii. The whole thing was revoltingly sweet and barely edible.
Real tiramisu is a classic Italian dessert featuring layers of coffee-soaked ladyfingers (savoiardi) combined with a rich blend of mascarpone, eggs and sugar, and dusted with cocoa powder. A popular variation includes soaking the ladyfingers in alcohol, such as marsala wine, amaretto, or a coffee-flavoured liqueur. The dessert’s name, tiramisu, translates from Italian as "lift me up" or "cheer me up".
Tiramisu, like all popular desserts (think pavlova, lamington, banoffee pie and tarte tatin), has a contested history. Multiple regions in Italy claim to be the birthplace of this delicious treat, with Venice, Treviso and Friuli-Venezia Giulia at the centre of the debate. One prominent story traces its invention to the restaurant Le Beccherie in Treviso in the late 1960s. Here, pastry chef Roberto Linguanotto and Alba di Pillo, the wife of the restaurant owner, are said to have made the first tiramisu, introducing it to the menu in 1972. However, rival claims, such as that of Friuli-Venezia Giulia, suggest the dessert has deeper roots, with a semi-frozen version called "tiremesu" served in the region as early as the 1930s.
Despite all the squabbling over its origins, tiramisu is actually a relatively modern dessert, only appearing in cookbooks and dictionaries in the 1970s. Some argue that tiramisu evolved from older Italian desserts such as "sbattudin", a simple mixture of egg yolks and sugar, or "dolce Torino", which incorporates ladyfingers and layers of cream. Italy has a long tradition of coffee-flavoured desserts, which likely contributed to tiramisu’s signature combination of coffee-soaked ladyfingers and mascarpone cream.
My favourite origin myth contends that tiramisu was created by a 19th-century madam, a "siora", in a Treviso brothel. The dessert was said to possess aphrodisiac qualities, intended to help clients "solve the problems they may have had with their conjugal duties on their return to their wives".
You’d think from my calamitous first effort I would have utterly bombed in the competition, but somehow I pulled it out of the bag. The piping bag, that is. It was a muggy day in Treviso, and try as I might, my egg whites would not whip up to stiff peaks — they remained miserably runny. The clock was counting down, and I had yet to assemble the first layer of ladyfingers. Sod it, I thought, and abandoned the egg whites (along with half the sugar).
Needless to say, I did not win the World Tiramisu Championships. In fact, I didn’t even make it through to the semifinals.
But I was, however, awarded a small prize — although I do not know what for, as everything was in Italian. I smiled, waved, bowed and had my photograph taken. It was all rather marvellous.
There are numerous variations and twists to the original tiramisu recipe. The fruit lover might enjoy a strawberry-based tiramisu, or one infused with lemon zest. In Latin America, tiramisu often features dulce de leche or tropical fruits, adding a sweet and exotic touch. In Japan, matcha tiramisu is a favourite, replacing the traditional coffee with green tea for a vibrant twist. My new friend, a Canadian fellow called Jeffrey, whipped up a delicious miso-and-lime flavoured tiramisu for the "creative" category of the championships. I devoured a whole slice.
One variation involves heating the eggs just enough to sterilise them without causing them to scramble during the cream preparation. Vegan, gluten-free, or low-sugar alternatives abound, catering to people’s dietary preferences and health-conscious trends. Traditionally round, tiramisu can also be made in rectangular or square pans due to the shape of the biscuits. It is often served in round glasses to showcase the beautiful layers. And then there are the innumerable spinoffs — tiramisu-inspired gelato, cakes, lattes and cocktails. The recipe has been reimagined in countless ways, but its rich flavours and light, foamy texture remain beloved around the globe.
I’ve already signed up for the 2025 World Tiramisu Championships. I’ve got a whole year to perfect my recipe and piping skills, and I’m tentatively hopeful I will make it to the semifinals of the "sweetest challenge of the year". Arrivederci!
• Jean Balchin is an ODT columnist who has started a new life in Edinburgh.
