Pumpkin Tiramisu

Halloween. Wallingford does Halloween hard.

The newsletter went out Sunday morning. The opening sentence took an hour. The piece took five. The piece was what it needed to be.

Rain on the porch all afternoon Saturday. The Wallingford rain is its own weather. I sat with a book and a tea and did not move for two hours.

Sprint review at Amazon Friday. Two hours. I could have been on a podcast.

Reading at night. A novel by a Korean-American writer about a family in 1990s LA. I underlined four sentences. The underlining is the marking-of-the-territory of the soul.

A blog reader wrote about her own adoptee experience. We exchanged three emails this week.

Yoga Tuesday morning at the studio. The forward fold released something I had been carrying in the shoulder. The mat is the mat.

The kimchi crock was bubbling Saturday morning when I checked. The bubbling is the right bubbling. The fermentation knew what it was doing.

James and I had date night Friday. Indian restaurant on 45th. We ate too much. We sat in the car after talking about nothing for an hour. The marriage is the marriage.

The Capitol Hill apartment kitchen is small. We make it work.

I made coffee at seven. Hana ate cereal at seven-fifteen. Min wandered down at seven-twenty-five. James left for work at eight. The morning was the morning. The standard.

The shiso on the south fence is fragrant and unruly. I brushed past it taking the compost out and the smell stopped me. The smell is the country. The smell is Jisoo's apartment.

Jisoo sent a photo of the dol the kids did for our visit last summer. The photo went on the fridge.

I texted Jisoo a photo of the kimchi in the new onggi pot. She replied with the thumb-up emoji and a Korean-language critique. The duality is the gift.

David came over for Sunday dinner. He brought some tomatoes from the Bellevue garden.

I read a thread on the Korean Adoptee subreddit Saturday. Some posts brought up old anger. Most are people figuring it out in real time. We are not unique. We are a community.

I sat at the kitchen counter at six AM with a notebook and a cup of green tea. Writing time before the house wakes. The pre-light hour is the only writing hour I trust.

My Korean is improving. Slowly. Painfully. Conversationally adequate now. I can argue about kimchi proportions in two languages, which is a milestone in any marriage between mother and daughter.

Sunday farmers market on Wallingford Avenue. The kabocha at the Asian vendor's stall. The shishito peppers. The brokered conversation. We bought too much. We always do.

Therapy Tuesday with Dr. Kim. We talked about the parents — the two sets, the one living, the one gone, the one who became real after thirty years and the one who was real my whole life and is now gone. The work is the layered work.

Hana left a Lego on the kitchen floor. I stepped on it at two AM. Standard.

The kimchi crock was doing its work on Saturday — the right bubbling, the patient fermentation — and something about that rhythm made me want to match it with a dessert that also rewards restraint and layering. Halloween on Wallingford called for something dramatic but precise, and the kabocha and shishito haul from the farmers market had already put pumpkin on the brain. Pumpkin Tiramisu is the dessert equivalent of checking the onggi pot at six AM: it looks like it knows something you don’t, and it’s usually right.

Prep Time: 25 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 4 hours 25 minutes (includes chilling) | Servings: 9

Ingredients

3/4 cup strong brewed coffee or espresso, cooled
2 tablespoons coffee liqueur (optional)
1 cup pumpkin puree (not pumpkin pie filling)
1 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
1/3 cup granulated sugar
3 large egg yolks
8 oz (225g) mascarpone cheese, room temperature
1 cup heavy whipping cream, cold
2 tablespoons powdered sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
24–28 ladyfinger cookies (savoiardi)
Unsweetened cocoa powder or cinnamon, for dusting

Instructions

Prepare the coffee soak. Combine the cooled coffee and coffee liqueur (if using) in a shallow bowl. Set aside.
Make the pumpkin custard base. In a medium bowl, whisk together the egg yolks and granulated sugar until pale and thick, about 2 minutes. Add the mascarpone, pumpkin puree, pumpkin pie spice, cinnamon, and salt. Whisk until completely smooth and uniform. Set aside.
Whip the cream. In a separate large bowl, beat the cold heavy cream, powdered sugar, and vanilla extract with a hand mixer or stand mixer on medium-high speed until stiff peaks form.
Fold together. Using a spatula, gently fold the whipped cream into the pumpkin-mascarpone mixture in three additions, working carefully to keep the mixture light and airy.
Dip the ladyfingers. Working quickly, dip each ladyfinger into the coffee soak for about 2 seconds per side — just enough to moisten without saturating. Do not soak them through or they will become soggy.
Layer the first tier. Arrange a single layer of dipped ladyfingers in the bottom of an 8x8-inch baking dish, breaking them as needed to fill the space evenly.
Add the first cream layer. Spread half of the pumpkin cream mixture evenly over the ladyfinger layer, smoothing it all the way to the edges.
Add the second tier. Arrange a second layer of dipped ladyfingers over the cream. Spread the remaining pumpkin cream mixture evenly over the top.
Chill. Cover the dish tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or overnight. The tiramisu needs this time to set and for the flavors to meld.
Finish and serve. Just before serving, dust the top generously with unsweetened cocoa powder or a mixture of cocoa and cinnamon. Cut into squares and serve cold.

Nutrition (per serving)

Pumpkin Tiramisu — When the Fermentation Knows What It’s Doing, So Does the Dessert