Sheet Cake with Mascarpone and Coffee with Almost Angel Food Cake by Alison Roman

The most dreamy trip of my life was in Italy in May 2019. My husband, Jordan, and I traveled from Milan to Cinque Terre, Florence, Siena, Assisi, and then to Rome. It was our first international trip as a couple, and my first international vacation ever. Everything about Italy felt like a storybook coming to life, from the countless Tuscan red poppies dotting the countryside, to the winding cobblestone streets, to the culture of ‘one more cappuccino, please.’ The food took my breath away as many times as the ornate ceilings of cathedrals did. I ate far too much (yet still not enough) burrata, bucatini, and basil. I’m not much of a dessert person, but Italy swayed me to eat at least one serving of gelato a day. And perhaps the best dessert we had on the trip was tiramisu. 

Ah yes, tiramisu. A sponge cake doused in strong coffee, layered with creamy mascarpone, sugar, and cocoa powder. The coffee hits the taste buds at the same time as cocoa powder sticks to the roof of your mouth. It somehow embodies Italy in a way few foods can. When I saw Alison’s version in Nothing Fancy, I knew I’d have to wait for just the right time to bake and savor this dish. As this project is winding down, I chose to make this dessert for the most ardent Italy-lovers I know: my in-law’s. They’ve lived in Italy for months-long sabbaticals, and know it like a second home. The perfect dessert for their recent visit was Alison’s tiramisu. 

The dessert starts with baking Almost Angel Food Cake, which I chose to make gluten free. Similar to angel food cake, the life of the cake comes from thoroughly whipped egg whites and sugar that grow light, foamy, and highly voluminous. A mix of dry ingredients get sprinkled and folded in until mixed, doing your best not to knock the air bubbles out of the batter. I chose to swap all-purpose flour for gf all-purpose and a half teaspoon of xanthan gum per cup of flour. I noticed no negative effects of this swap. I then had to let the cake cool completely. 

Meanwhile, I whisked together Mascarpone, sugar, and egg yolks. I also sprinkled cocoa powder on the bottom of my 2 quart baking dish. I brewed some extra strong coffee and combined it with whiskey. By the time this was done, the cake was ready to go under construction. Using a measuring tape, I measured out 8 x 8“ squares of cake and used a bench scraper to cut them.

I laid the first square of cake in the baking dish, then spooned a third of the coffee and whiskey mixture over the top. The liquid quickly seeped into the cake, as if being soaked up by a sponge. I spread out half of the mascarpone mixture and repeated the entire process. After sprinkling more cocoa powder at the very top, I placed the dessert into the refrigerator to chill. Alison says it needs four hours in the refrigerator, but my crew was restless, and I let them have at it at around the three-hour mark. 

This dessert was a lot of fun to make (anytime a tape measure gets involved, you know it’s a good time). It was also just as delicious as a piece of authentic tiramisu. I have no suggestions for making this better. Just be ready to want to eat far more dessert than you probably should.

180 and 181 recipes cooked, 44 to go.

Casual Apple Tart with Caramelized Buttermilk by Alison Roman

I grew up feeling rather ambivalent about apples. Apples and peanut butter, apples and caramel, or even just a plain apple - I wasn’t jazzed about apples. I did love to sing about them, though. My sweet grandmother who is now 92 years old, used to write original songs for her grandchildren to teach us important things. For example, she wrote a song about my home address and phone number so I could remember where I lived. She wrote a song about tomatoes and how delicious they are, which I credit as the main reason I’ve loved all things tomato from a very early age. She also wrote a song about how “an apple a day keeps the doctor away,” and yeah, I believed it. So I ate my apples, despite my lack of desire for them. 

When I came to college in the Midwest, I was exposed to the wonder that is the Honeycrisp apple. Which changed everything. Sophomore year, I started dating a boy (who is now a man and also my husband) from Minnesota. He wanted me to know that scientists at the University of Minnesota actually created the first Honeycrisp apple. He raved about them, like all proud Minnesotans do, and convinced me to not only eat apples, but to enjoy them. You see, a Honeycrisp is the perfect, and I mean perfect, balance of tart and sweet. It’s the juiciest of all the apples. It has the prettiest color. It is, no doubt, the most superior apple. 

Honeycrisps are the reason I was so excited to make this tart. Finally, an Alison dessert that could feature this most excellent fruit. Not to mention, it was another opportunity to try my hand at pie crust. Making pie crust is a true art form, and I find that I get better at it every time I do it. While I’m sure Alison’s “The Only Pie Crust” adds an even butterier element to this lovely tart, I chose to stick with King Arthur’s gluten-free pie crust recipe for personal reasons. I must also note that this was by far my most successful time making pie crust. The butter was the right amount of cold when I rolled the dough out, and none of it stuck to my rolling pin. A true win. 

A few more notes on the tart… This apple dessert - drizzled with butter, sugar, cinnamon, and ground ginger - was like an apple pie, but differently shaped and less fussy. I left it in the oven a touch too long, so the apples were nicely softened but the crust got a little too browned. I think the buttermilk coating on the crust added a nice touch (but it didn’t make or break the dessert). I sliced two pounds of apples, per Alison’s instructions, but could only fit 1 pound on the dough. I squeezed lemon juice over the unused slices, and ate them at work throughout the rest of the week. Finally, when Alison instructs you to sprinkle the tart with flaky salt and pepper, just do it. I hesitated, particularly over the pepper, but I admit it added a subtle, smoky nuance that only enhanced the final flavor. 

165 recipes cooked, 60 to go.

Crispy Chocolate Cake with Hazelnut and Sour Cream by Alison Roman

Let’s talk about a chocolate cloud. No, I’m not referencing Willy Wonka or Candlyand, the classic board game of my childhood. I’m talking about the essence of a cloud made of rich, decadent dark chocolate with hints of hazelnut and almond. 

Just keeping it real, Alison’s crispy chocolate cake is a gluten-free chocolate cloud. A cloud that can interrupt my sunny skies any day. 

I don’t feel like walking through every step of the cake-making process today. But I do want to write a little something about the people I shared this chocolate cake with, which I’ll intersperse with pictures of the cake baking process, because I have them, so why not. 

My coworkers, the team of ten at the Center for Vocation and Career, are a delightfully diverse and committed and thoughtful group of people invested in the success of our students, now and beyond college. They care about the whole student, which includes the intersection of career goals, personal passions, faith, family, and culture. They spend their time actively listening to the needs of students and responding with compassion and gentle wisdom. They go above and beyond to champion others. They’ve made it their jobs! 

I am blessed to work with these people and blessed to share my chocolate cloud with them too. On a day when students were off campus, we had a team potluck for lunch. The theme? Charcuterie board. My contribution? This cake. And I’m thankful to say it was swiftly consumed in full that afternoon. 

As I looked around the room at these comrades eating cheese and meats, munching on olives, forking a bite of chocolate cake, I felt nothing but gratitude. Gratitude to work alongside them, to learn from them, and to contribute as well. I’ve said it before, there’s something particularly special about contributing to the nourishment, the physical sustaining, of people you care about. I’ve learned not to underestimate the power of sharing a homemade chocolate cake, especially because of this project.

163 recipes cooked, 62 to go.

Salted Butter and Chocolate Chunk Shortbread, or Why Would I Make Another Chocolate Chip Cookie Ever Again? by Alison Roman

(^That right there, folks, is the longest recipe title known to humankind.)

Everyone has an opinion on what makes for the best chocolate chip cookie. Be it chewiness, sweetness, saltiness, thickness, thinness, just out of the oven or next-day. I believe every human has the inalienable right to personal cookie preferences, so I won’t claim a universally accepted premiere chocolate chip cookie quality. However, I will tell you what I think makes the best chocolate chip cookie: a balanced ratio of sugar to salt. A cookie without salt is simply uninteresting to me. 

Because of this, I have a predisposition to not only love Alison’s shortbread chocolate chunk cookie, but to echo her question: why would I make another kind again? (My answer is: I’d make a different kind if I find myself craving a more layered, soft, but dense version of said cookie. But the shortbread will scratch the itch 9/10 times.) 

These cookies take some planning, requiring at least 2 hours of chill time in the fridge. The dough assembly, if you have a stand mixer to do the heavy-lifting, is easy. It starts with beating two and a quarter stick of butter with sugar until light and fluffy. Then slowly adding the flour and salt (if you use unsalted butter) and chocolate chunks (I chopped mine from some Whole Foods branded dark chocolate bars) until they’re all combined. I divided the dough onto two sheets of plastic wrap, and rolled them into logs that are 2.25 inches thick. Oftentimes, I wing this sort of thing. But when it comes to thinly sliced cookie dough, the last thing you want is for them to fall apart. It felt important to be exact in the circumference measurements for this reason. 

I prepared my dough on a Saturday afternoon, just before leaving for a party called The Great Midwestern Cornhole Tournament. And yes, it was exactly like it sounds. Great, full of midwestern experiences like college football, beer, and friendly people, and there was a verifiable cornhole tournament. Jordan and I placed 8th out of 16 teams, for those wondering. We’ll take it. 

On Sunday I was ready to bake. I took out one log at a time -- painting it with egg and rolling it in Turbinado sugar, then slicing it into rounds and topping the cookies with flaky sea salt. The baking time averaged to 16 minutes for me. 

I’ve had plenty of shortbread cookies in the past, but what makes these stand out is the crunchy sugar on the edges. I brought the cookies to work on Monday, and by 2pm, they were all gone. The most frequent comment I heard, besides “those cookies were amazing,” was “the sugar on the edges - oh my!”  

145 recipes cooked, 80 to go.

Sorbet in Grapefruit Cups by Alison Roman

If there’s one dessert I associate with childhood, it’s orange sherbet with chocolate chips. My mom bought this ice cream more than any other flavor. Not because it was any of our favorite’s, but because it was hers. Which delights me. 

On a recent trip home, my family asked me to make them an Alison Roman meal, which was a true treat. I love cooking for anyone and everyone, but especially my family. They’re a wonderful audience. And I had the especially special pleasure of cooking for an additional family guest, my Oma. In fact, I made the meal at her house. 

Our menu included: 

• Crispy Salmon with Spicy Radishes and Green Romesco

• Baked Summer Squash with Cream and Parmesan Bread Crumbs

• A GF pasta salad with lots of veggies

• Kale salad with lemon and toasted almonds

And for dessert: 

• Sorbet in Grapefruit Cups

I prepared the grapefruit cups first, a few hours before dinnertime. Using a spoon, I gouged out the grapefruit halves, discarding the extra layers of pith but keeping the juices and meat of the fruit in a bowl. (If there’s one food I associate most with going to my Oma’s house, it’s fresh-squeezed orange juice. Very Southern California of her, I know. So I just had to save the grapefruits for her next morning’s breakfast.) 

Next, I divided two pints of Talenti sorbet, one mango and the other raspberry, into the cups. The sorbet softened on the counter for 15 minutes beforehand. Alison gives the option of adding fruit to the cups, like grapes, kumquats, or pomegranate seeds. Having none of these, I left it at sorbet. The cups spent roughly 2.5 hours in the freezer before serving. 

I could taste a very faint hint of grapefruit in each bite of sorbet. If I didn’t pay attention, I would have missed it. Otherwise it was just a bowl of sorbet. But it sure looked fun! And it made my family feel special. They all remarked how fun the idea was and how much they enjoyed it. So while the work to make this recipe outweighed any additional flavors or flairs, it was worth it just to say to my family, “I care about you!” 

So, if you like to go *above and beyond* for presentation, this one’s for you.

135 recipes cooked, 90 to go.