I may have resisted the temptation to call this ‘lemonisu’ (partly because it doesn’t sound right anyway), but I could not resist writing a recipe for a pale yellow, lemony tiramisù. Of course, a real tiramisù should contain coffee and cocoa (and, in my mind, marsala and brandy), but this is a truly heavenly (if heathen) version. Quite apart from being delicious, there is a strong aesthetic argument behind it; such swathes of lemon yellow and pale cream seem like some sort of divinely luxurious sofa, snug in the corner of an idyllic Amalfi residence.
If you happen to have any leftover lemon cake to hand, use that in place of the savoiardi, as it will taste even better. Some like to soak the sponge layer in limoncello, but I find it both too sweet and too strong. This version is unapologetically creamy – and also child-friendly.
For the lemon curd:
2tsp cornflour
120ml lemon juice
3 eggs
150g sugar
40g unsalted butter
For the cream:
400g mascarpone
300ml whipping cream
80g icing sugar
For the sponge layer:
2 packs savoiardi or ladyfingers (about 24), or leftover cake (see introduction)
400ml milk
To finish:
Lemon zest
Lemon slices
A few mint springs
For the lemond curd, whisk the cornflour with 50ml water until dissolved and milky-looking, then place all the ingredients in a small pan over a low heat. Whisk constantly, helping the butter to melt, then gradually increase the heat to medium and stir until it thickens to form a curd the consistency of loose mayonnaise. Allow to cool to room temperature.
For the cream, whip the mascarpone with the cream and icing sugar to form soft peaks. Decant into a piping bag.
For the sponge, soak the savoiardi in milk, allowing them to absorb enough to become just damp and spongy but not dripping, and layer at the base of a 23cm dish. Pipe over a third of the cream, flatten with a spatula, then spread over half of the cooled curd. Repeat, then finish with little piped peaks of cream.
Arrange the lemon zest and slices and mint on top to serve.
(Hardie Grant, £28)
Beyond the buzz of the coast, cook and author of For the Love of Lemons Letitia Clarke explores the island’s quiet interior, where slow hospitality and a deep-rooted sense of place offer a richer way to eat, stay, and travel
