August Peels: TOP turns 2 years old
gratefully, and a recipe for a (Scottish) tiramisù
If you’re new to The Onion Papers, congrats, as you’ve crashed a birthday party on your first day! Peels are a monthly dispatch, featuring bread, reading, kitchen updates, and other forecasts, but this month is for a special edition as this newsletter turns two years old.
Ciao, reader. It’s been teasing knowing you these past two years. We’ve shared memories, news, flavours and other fragments about what makes us fond of this world, what makes us scared of it too, our affections and our disappointments, and we’ve withdrawn, feeling either vulnerable or too proud to be seen. Things got heated and fun and nostalgic and, sometimes, you brushed over that ‘unsubscribe’ button, perplexed, yet I kept courting you – with a cake recipe, a confession, a short story, a pasta – and you kept reading, so I wrote back. And, as I did, I’ve dreamt of walking through a park on a hot summer day with you, rendered anxious by the sight of burnt grass yet energised by the smell of summer, chatting and drifting away with you. I’ve worried about you, as I pressed ‘send’, that you never signed up for any of this; I’ve fantasised about you, as I pressed ‘send’, that you were going to enjoy this one. As if, still in that park, I’d start showing you how good I’m at doing cartwheels, because I am and they make me feel beautiful. Free. Except that we can’t go to the park together, you and I, not since this is a long-distance relationship. But I can share what I’ve been cooking and seeing, therefore what I’m thinking with you – and you can write back – and we can weave our experiences, just like that, we can thread something together, if not a meal, a stitch in time. Because you know I’m obsessed with time. And we can earmark a moment within this History that often feels removed from our present; contextualise, protest, agree, agree to disagree, being part of this life we eat away. There, ciao strangers. We acknowledge one another and we aren’t so estranged anymore; even if this lasts for a brief second only, we initiate a future remembrance, which may connect us as much as it could confront us, but we tune in, looping inner and outer spaces onto that thread we’re holding; cooking, conversing, being. Thank you, readers. It’s been two years since I caught a gigantic spider and launched The Onion Papers, twenty-four months of moody dispatches, bending forms and interrogating language and digressing with my mouth full, and I love how intuitive I can be while writing this newsletter. I love to cook and think with you. I love that some of you now bake with a piece of my sourdough starter. I love when you respond with clues about who you are, words of wisdom and niche facts, and the email chains that’ve followed. Thank you for hanging out with me at that corner of the internet,
Margaux
No Peels this month but a retrospective of the last twelve months at The Onion Papers (scroll down for the tiramisù recipe):
Six Essays I’ve Loved Writing:
This year also saw TOP (me!) relocating to Scotland, from London, so an ode to the places I’ve been lucky enough to discover.
Six Dispatches, Written Around Scotland:
Six Foodie Entries:
About The Onion Papers, storytelling in the kitchen: TOPs are agglomerations and digressions from things I cook, eat, read and observe – a recipe book and almanac in drafting, or a writer who cooks’ notebook.
Essays and other stories are dispatched every other Thursday to all subscribers; TOP Peels are sent to all subscribers on the first Monday of each month; TOP Kneading Club is a series of annotated recipes and wanders, sent on Mondays to paid subscribers.
You can also access TOP Pantry, which is an index of the Onion Papers’ recipes, as well as the TOP bookshelves via Bookshop.org.
If you’d like to know more about who is behind this newsletter, you can read about my work at my website or, more informally, via Instagram.
Last year’s birthday, One Year: An Onion Party, was for a flourless orange and almond cake. In 2024, we’re having tiramisù, with a whisky twist:
400ml coffee
50ml Auchentoshan, three-wood single malt scotch whisky
4 eggs
120g icing sugar
10ml coffee liqueur
80ml cold water
500g mascarpone
1 packet of ladyfingers biscuits
cocoa powder, for dusting
Make the coffee using your usual method (but strong). In a jug, combine the coffee, the whisky and the cold water. Stir and leave to cool.
In two bowls, separate the eggs. Whisk the egg whites until they start to stiffen, add half of the sugar and whisk until the mixture is firm. Set aside. Now add the other half of the sugar to the yolks and whisk until the yolks have doubled in size. Add the coffee liqueur and the whisky. Whisk well (for at least two minutes). Add half of the mascarpone and mix for another two minutes. Add the other half of the mascarpone and whisk until the mixture is firm (at least two minutes, again).
With the help of a wooden spoon, fold the egg whites into the yolks, from bottom to top then sides to centre. Be gentle; no beating or stirring.
Time to assemble the tiramisù in a glass tray (with high sides). Rectangular and square shapes work best, though I only have a round one and it works fine. Dip the ladyfingers into the cold coffee preparation briefly (you don’t want them to crumble), lay the biscuits in a single layer on the bottom of the tray. Cover with the egg mixture (2-3cm). Repeat. Dust cocoa powder on top and place the tray in the fridge for as long as you can (at least four-five hours).
Scoop a spoon, another one, onwards,
Margaux
PS. If you enjoy this newsletter, feel free to forward it to a friend, or two:
And, if you’ve been forwarded this email and enjoyed it, you can:
You're so totally welcome. That was an awesome essay. I just wished you'd live next door--I need a go-to person to bounce cooking ideas off. ;) What do you know about okara (leftovers from tofu making) and what to do with it, other than throwing it into eggs or crumbly patties? I joined ZOE (Tim Specter & the health folks doing the microbiome & blood sugar studies out of England) and am killing the veg-based cooking/food prep so far. But I'm quite stubborn when it comes to food prep; if I can make it myself, why buy the commercial version? Am I nuts? Yes, Tofu from the Asian market is faster, but mine tastes better. I add peanuts to my soybeans. I'm special! And weird. But you knew that, friend. Wuahaha!