A JUDGEMENT Recipe: Pomegranate Tiramisu
Cas Marino's "Death and the Maiden" dessert lives on as a seasonal BPAL fragrance
By T. Bloom
What’s a recipe post without a tiresome preamble? There are a few brief details I need to braid together in order for this to make sense:
I contributed an essay to PS Publishing’s new book, a literary companion to The Bride of Frankenstein, which will be available for pre-order VERY SOON (!!)
Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab has created three Limited Edition perfumes to accompany the book launch, inspired by The Bride’s history and legacy. The book (which is merch) has merch!
There’s also a limited edition Pomegranate Tiramisu fragrance, created as a tribute to my dear friend Cas Marino (RIP), who concocted this dessert to feed the audience at a Death and the Maiden-themed variety show I once produced for the 92nd Street Y
No one reads a fourth bullet point
So that covers the basics. I’ll explain a little more now, and then the recipe — which is extraordinarily delicious — awaits below.
Cas Marino, who left this corroded Earth in 2014, was a brilliant actor, bon vivant, and kitchen whiz. He performed in drag at a number of my ‘Meet The Lady’ variety shows (seen above in The Elsa Monologues) and usually brought a dish to serve the crowd. Fuck the city health department!
The domain to his blog “The Food Daddy” expired years ago, but I did manage to salvage this one culinary treasure, which I’ve made a number of times since — once to feed the crowd at a BPAL open-house event, so folks could stuff their faces with crème fraîche while sniffing decadent perfumes.
I’m certain Cas would be thrilled to have one of his creations serve as fragrance inspiration, particularly as part of a seasonal collection honoring the dead. And he’d be very proud of my continued Bride of Frankenstein efforts. During one of our last chats, when he was too sickened from cancer treatments to have in-person visitors, he wrote me:
“I only promise that if it’s decided I have to cross over anytime soon, I’ll capitalize on the powers there and hopefully continue to work with you folks from the other side.”
I dunno what to believe… but things finally started moving on the Elsa Lanchester reprint not long after he died. Every time there’s some new wrinkle in this ongoing relationship with The Bride, I remember him saying that.
I’ll be sharing more about this new book later, you betcha. For now I’ll turn the mic over to Cas and let him present his own infernal creation, which can now be snacked on or sniffed as one sees fit.
POMEGRANATE TIRAMISU
By Cas Marino, aka “The Food Daddy”
This recipe was created by me to fit the bill for the recent Meet the Lady showcase, entitled “Death and the Maiden”.
I toiled with possible ideas that had to do with death and maidens. figuring most easily that a “death by chocolate” offering would at least use one of the title words. Then lady fingers came into the thought process because, well, if you dismembered a maiden you’d have two byproducts: death, most notably, and lady parts — including, but not limited to, her fingers.
Lady fingers naturally led to tiramisu fantasies, but I didn’t want to go the traditional route. And after discussing it and brainstorming, I got smacked in the back of the head with the realization that the mythical Persephone — a maiden — kidnapped as she was by Hades — who, by way of his being the god of the underworld, was death its very self in semi-human form — ate nothing but pomegranate seeds during her detainment in hell.
If this doesn’t spell fucking dessert, I don’t know what does.
Herewith, my scaled-down recipe (in scope, not in structure or composition; I doubt you’ll need to serve 75 people with yours, though even at half-size this will serve a small army). You can pare it down even further if you feel such need, or instead of making it into one big sheet cake, assemble several smaller ones (I found this worked BEAUTIFULLY in loaf pans) and send them straight to the freezer for future enjoyment.
A few other flexible considerations: I made mine in a full-size deep steam table pan for presentation and food service purposes. These things measure roughly 20 x 10 x 3.5”, but you can use the smaller (12 x 9 x 2.5”) disposable aluminum half-pans for this recipe, or as stated above, any other configuration of sizes that suit your needs. If you want to unmold it and slice it after freezing, line your pans first with cellophane wrap. After just a minute or two out of the ice box, you’ll be able to lift it out of the pan (perhaps with the help of a hungry friend) by the ends of the cellophane, place it on a cutting board, and have at it. Tres artistique, even weighing in as mine did at about eight pounds.
This last conclusion required me getting on the scale both with and without the final dessert in my arms and subtracting the first weight from the laden number, which could have been quite a sight, as I generally refuse to step on a scale until I’ve removed every last stitch of clothing including my socks, and spit out any spare saliva and shaved every last facial hair so NOTHING will add even a bazillionth of an ounce to my readout, lest I suffer a deep fit of depression. And being depressed when you’re holding what turns out to be 8 pounds of really good cake is a recipe for emotion-eating disaster.
But I staved off the need to feel slimmer than normal in light of the facts that (a) I was mid-movie shoot that week, and thus had to maintain a larger-than-usual mane of face-hair for my role; (b) spitting near food meant for others would be gross; (c) being naked around the same food would be even grosser; and (d) the tile floor in my bathroom could be a bit chilly, so why risk taking off my socks?
Socks, spitting, scanty clothing — nothing could have made this less enjoyable. The audience that night devoured what was served to them, and all but attacked the leftovers on the way out of the theater. I had sent samples of this creation to my usual team of taste-testers for input as part of the development process, and perhaps the most poignant and fitting critique came from my dear Mom who, just having started a new diet regimen, had the following to say during our brief check-in on the phone:
“Hello. This is your mother. Fuck Weight Watchers, and Fuck You.”
I love you, Mom. And not just because you loved this surprising new take on an old favorite.
INGREDIENTS
60 Lady Finger cookies
4 Cups Pomegranate juice
1-½ Cups plus 2 Tbsp. sugar
1 Packet unflavored gelatin
4 Egg whites
1 tsp. Cream of Tartar
1 Cup Mascarpone cheese
3 Cups Crème fraîche
1 Tbsp. Corn starch
¼ Cup water (or as needed)
½ Cup Almonds, sliced
¼ Cup Pomegranate seeds (or dried sweetened cranberries)
Reserve 6 Lady Fingers for garnish.
INSTRUCTIONS
In a saucepan, mix pomegranate juice with 1-½ cups sugar, and sprinkle gelatin on top. Stir or whisk until gelatin is dissolved with no lumps remaining. Bring mixture to boil over medium-high heat, stirring constantly until sugar and gelatin are fully dissolved. Reduce heat to medium-low and continue to boil, stirring often, for 10 minutes. Remove from heat and set saucepan into a larger bowl filled with cold water. Stir frequently and change cold water bath often, allowing juice reduction to cool as close to room temperature as possible.
In the bowl of a stand mixer or with electric beaters, whip egg whites with cream of tartar until stiff. Remove to a separate, clean mixing bowl (preferably chilled in the freezer) and set aside.
In stand mixer or large mixing bowl with electric beaters, mix mascarpone with 1-½ cups of cooled juice reduction until well blended. Beat on medium-high for one minute. Add 1 cup of the crème fraîche and blend until smooth. Finally, fold in beaten egg whites, half at a time, just until fully incorporated.
Assembling the tiramisu: Here’s where Food Daddy starts getting anal (but this works easiest, so just shut up and do as I say. Love you!). On your prep surface, set your plate or bowl of unpackaged lady fingers (you don’t want to be messing with cellophane and plastic bags and such mid-project here); next to that, set your remaining juice reduction; and next to that, set your cake pan.
Working from left to right (or for my Hebrew or dyslexic foodies, right to left), dip a lady finger lightly in the juice by placing it on the liquid’s surface, flipping it over with your fingers, then removing it by hand and placing it in the cake pan. Working quickly, repeat this process, building a tightly packed layer of side-by-side, row-by-row, lightly soaked lady fingers on the bottom of the pan. Nobody will see the inside of the tiramisu in its entirety, so if to make a uniform layer with few gaps you need to rip a finger here or stuff a finger there, I won’t tell a soul if you have to be a bit forceful or creative.
Spoon half of the pomegranate mousse mixture over the bottom layer of lady fingers. Using the back of a spoon or a rubber spatula, spread the mixture evenly. Lift the pan and drop it gently a few times on your work surface, just to make sure all the gaps are filled and big air bubbles are removed.
Repeat with a second layer of dipped lady fingers, and then a second layer of pomegranate mousse, again tamping pan to release air bubbles and distribute the filling evenly. Top with one final layer of dipped lady fingers.
Spread the top with the remaining 2 cups of crème fraîche, tamp pan to settle the layers, and set aside.
Pour remaining juice mixture into a measuring cup, and add enough of the water, if needed, to make 1 cup of liquid. Return to saucepan, and stir in the corn starch and the remaining 2 Tbsp. of sugar until starch is dissolved. Place pan over medium-high heat, and bring to a boil to thicken. Remove from heat.
In a food processor or with a cutting board and knife, coarsely chop the almonds and the fruit, then add the reserved lady fingers and pulse (or chop and crumble) until the whole thing looks like somebody pawed at a poor helpless berry-nut muffin until there were no big chunks left.
Sprinkle the crumb mixture evenly over the top of the tiramisu. Drizzle with the pomegranate syrup mixture.
Chill tiramisu at least 2 hours in refrigerator before serving. For overnight storage or longer, cover with cellophane wrap gently pressed against the top surface.
ADDITIONAL NOTES
This will “cure” and the flavors will blend and the whole combination really pull together if left refrigerated for two days. For storage beyond that or to deal with leftovers, this freezes BEAUTIFULLY. Just allow to come to room temperature before serving, or enjoy it “semi freddo” by removing from freezer and slicing wide, inch-thick slices, laying each on its side on individual serving plates and eating it cold and firm. A dollop of additional crème fraîche and a sprinkling of chopped almonds (did I hear someone say “mint sprig”?) sure would make this anything but a “leftover” dessert.
✤
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