Tiramisu tribulations with tearful resolution

Published on November 17th, 2025

Dearest Princess,

I failed.

The story begins as such.

After our dear Jean offered to organise a luncheon for the pavilion courtiers, courtesy dictated I offer to bring something, a bottle of wine or dessert, to ease the burden on the host. As you know I recently purchased some wonderful coffee grounds, so I volunteered my 'world-renowned' tiramisu.

Please understand my pride and allow me to redeem myself, I have made this tiramisu before: to great applause and admiration from peers. Tiramisu is my favourite food. I know and understand tiramisu well.

Perhaps it had just been too long since I'd last made it. I found myself invited to less gatherings during and after the pandemic (as I'm sure many have experienced), so what opportunity did I have to make an entire tray of dessert?

I made the mascarpone cream and the espresso brilliantly, the devil was in those damned savoiardi biscuits, I swear I've made them before, I just don't know what possessed me to make such a critical error as I did! The biscuits were piped much too thick, and did not fully bake in the middle. Horror. Tragedy. I had no idea. I assembled the tiramisu layers and travelled to Jean's lunch.

The food was wonderful, to my surprise. Ah, forgive me, I don't mean to disparage him, I truly didn't know he could cook so well. We portioned out the tiramisu, and it was evident from the very start that something was wrong. Rather than gliding through soft and creamy dessert, we pushed our forks through tough and unyielding sticks of biscuit. That violent clattering of silverware on plates haunts me as I write.

Well, I was inconsolable. I felt embarrassed and useless, a moron who couldn't even make a simple dessert. The others were kind enough not to say anything, they even finished their plates, but I felt I had truly humiliated myself in front of some of my closest friends. I excused myself and fled at once to the bathroom to regain my decorum. Darling Lizaveta checked on me and tried to comfort me, she even insisted the tiramisu had tasted good. That she would care for my wellbeing to lie soothed my brittle heart.

As she escorted me back to the dining room, I thought about the mistakes I have made in life, and will continue to make. I was infinitely grateful to have loved ones who would forgive my failures. We sat down for tea, with not a word more spent on that disastrous dessert. I was happy to spend time with them and the world felt so beautiful to be a part of. Perhaps next time I will try the recipe again, and bring you some tiramisu.

My song recommendation: "Love in the Time of Human Papillomavirus" by AJJ

Love, Makona