Authentic Tiramisu Recipe: How We Make It in Our Rome Kitchen

Tiramisù is the dessert we close the fresh pasta class with, and we keep the rule per person because groups change in class and proportions do not: one egg, one heaping spoon of sugar, a pinch of salt, one heaping spoon of mascarpone, espresso as needed, two ladyfingers and bitter cocoa. Six things, and no substitutions: no cream, no liqueur.

The difference between a tiramisù that holds and one that slides comes down to three moves: the whites whipped to snow and folded in with a spatula without deflating them, the ladyfinger dipped halfway for three seconds in coffee lengthened with water, and the cold, twenty minutes in the freezer or six hours in the fridge. Below is the method as we do it in our kitchen at Piazza Margana 22, the tools, the mistakes we correct every week and what changes outside Italy.

For four people you need four eggs, four heaping spoons of sugar, four of mascarpone, eight ladyfingers.

• 4 eggs, one per person, very fresh, at room temperature
• 4 heaping spoons of sugar, one per person: a little into the whites, the rest into the yolks
• a pinch of salt, for whipping the whites
• 4 heaping spoons of mascarpone, one per person, out of the fridge for half an hour
• espresso as needed, doubled with the same amount of still water: five shots for a dish
• 8 ladyfingers, two per person, the dry, light kind
• bitter cocoa powder, to cover the top at the very end

The rule holds at any number: six people, six eggs, six spoons, twelve ladyfingers. The coffee is not counted: you make enough to dip the ladyfingers, and what is left you drink.

The recipe deposited in Treviso uses yolks only. We use the whole egg, and the whites whipped to snow are the reason our cream is light and tall instead of dense: the snow brings air, and the air stays if you fold it in with a spatula instead of the mixer. The pinch of salt in the whites helps them whip and cannot be tasted in the dessert; the little sugar makes them more stable.

The mascarpone goes in after the yolks have been beaten with the sugar, and it is worked only as long as it takes to make the cream smooth: it is almost all fat, and beaten too long it splits into a grainy mass that never comes back. At room temperature it blends in a minute; fridge-cold it lumps. One heaping spoon per person is enough: more mascarpone makes a heavy cream that sets like butter in the fridge.

Making tiramisù needs simple kitchen equipment that is easy to find. A mixing bowl for blending, two in fact, one for the whites and one for the yolks; a whisk or hand mixer, which whips the snow and the yolks in a few minutes; a rubber spatula to fold the whites in without knocking the air out and to scrape down the sides of the bowl, so everything is evenly combined.

To serve, glasses or dessert cups for individual portions, or a square or round dish for a shared tiramisù, deep enough for at least two layers. A fine sieve for the cocoa at the end. The freezer or the fridge does the rest.

Separate the eggs, yolks in one bowl and whites in another, and take out the mascarpone.

Whip the whites to snow with a whisk or hand mixer, with a little sugar and the pinch of salt, until they stand up.

Beat the yolks with the rest of the sugar with the mixer until pale and fluffy, then add the mascarpone and work until the cream is smooth, no longer.

Fold in the snow with a spatula, a third at a time, from the bottom up, scraping down the sides, until it is all combined.

Make the coffee: in a bowl, five shots of espresso and the same amount of still water.

Assemble in layers. In the container, a first layer of cream. Soak half a ladyfinger for three seconds and lay it on the cream from the side without coffee. Cream, ladyfingers, cream, until you reach the top of the dish.

Freezer twenty minutes, or fridge at least six hours, better overnight. Bitter cocoa on top just before serving.

A ladyfinger is built to absorb: left in the coffee for four or five seconds it drinks far more than it looks, and two hours later the bottom of the dish is a dark puddle with the biscuit floating in it. That is why the coffee is lengthened with the same amount of still water, so it is thinner and wets without soaking, and why the ladyfinger is dipped halfway, for three seconds, and laid on the cream from the dry side. The other half takes moisture from the cream during the rest, and after six hours in the fridge the biscuit is soft to the centre without having fallen apart.

The first layer is cream, not ladyfingers: it protects the bottom and holds the biscuits in place. Then you go up in layers, ladyfingers and cream, to the rim, finishing with cream. The cocoa waits.

Cold mascarpone, or beaten too long. It lumps when it meets the yolks, and if you insist with the mixer it splits. Out of the fridge earlier, into the yolks already beaten, and stop as soon as the cream is smooth.

Deflated snow. The whites are folded in with a spatula, from the bottom up, not with the mixer: otherwise the air you whipped in leaves and the cream goes flat again.

The soaked ladyfinger. Half a biscuit, three seconds, coffee lengthened with water. The cold does the rest.

Haste. After twenty minutes in the freezer it holds, after six hours in the fridge it cuts, after a night it is another dessert. Served after an hour it slides off the spoon.

Cocoa dusted before the rest. It gets wet on the cream, turns into a dark paste and loses the bitterness that is supposed to sit against the sugar. Sieve at the end, on the cold cream.

The biscuit matters more than people expect. Italian savoiardi are dry, crisp and light, built to absorb coffee without collapsing. The soft sponge ladyfingers sold in many supermarkets abroad are a different product: they are already moist, so a single touch in the coffee, and the layers will be softer. In our gluten-free class the same tiramisù is made with gluten-free ladyfingers, and the only difference is an even shorter dip, because they soak faster.

Mascarpone has no substitute that gives the same result: cream cheese is salty and tangy, whipped cream is thinner and does not set. The tub should say mascarpone and little else. On the coffee, a moka pot gives the same result as the espresso machine we use in class; filter coffee is too thin and should be brewed double; instant is a last resort. In every case no sugar, and lengthened with water before dipping.

In our kitchen at Piazza Margana 22, in the centre of Rome, a short walk from Piazza Venezia. Tiramisù is the dessert of the fresh pasta and tiramisu class: first the fresh pasta, tonnarelli and ravioli with amatriciana, then the whipped whites and the ladyfingers, and the tiramisù rests while you eat the pasta. The private version is for a group that wants the kitchen to itself, and in the gluten-free class it is made with gluten-free ladyfingers. Shared classes are taught in English; for Italian or Spanish, book a private session. The full list is on the cooking classes page.