Christmas Gingerbread Tiramisu

Well Would You Look at That, It’s Christmas Gingerbread Tiramisu

Okay, I know what you’re thinking: “Gingerbread AND tiramisu? Did she finally lose the plot?” But, hear me out. This mad-scientist approach started a few years back when I ran out of ladyfingers for my Boxing Day tiramisu, and all I had left were slightly-stale gingerbread cookies from our baking marathon with the kids. So I said, “Why not?” (Mum was suspicious—she still is; she’s a trifle die-hard.) Long story short: absolute hit. It’s ridiculously simple, tastes like Christmas wrapped in a warm hug, and—bonus!—there’s no faffing about with egg yolks over simmering water.

Just warning you now, though, you might find yourself eating gingerbread cookies out of season, just so you have an excuse to make this tiramisu again. It’s that good, mate.

Why You’ll Love This—If My Family’s Anything to Go By

I make this Christmas Gingerbread Tiramisu when I want maximum holiday energy with minimum fuss—like, after all the wrapping paper carnage but before the post-dinner snooze. My kids go wild for it, probably because it’s the only time I let them have coffee (well, sort of; it’s really milky and the cookies soak so fast). And if someone asks “Do you make the mascarpone cream from scratch?”—well, sometimes. But honestly, supermarket tubs are just fine, you know? This is dessert, not the Olympics.

Actually, I’ve had my fair share of missteps—like trying to force dry cookies to soak in cold milk; big mistake, don’t do it. Or that time I tried to add candied ginger and it just overpowered everything. No thanks!

Alright, Here’s What You’ll Need (But Don’t Stress If You’re Missing a Thing or Two)

• About 250g gingerbread cookies (homemade, store-bought, whatever you fancy—my mate swears by IKEA ones, no joke)
• 200ml strong coffee, cooled (sometimes I use decaf if serving to kids or nan; or even hot chocolate in a pinch—worked a treat last time, actually)
• 500g mascarpone (grandma insists on Italian brands—me, I use whatever’s on special)
• 350ml double cream (or heavy cream; once I used whipping cream, came out a bit lighter, but still tasty)
• 80g icing sugar, sifted (I admit I eyeball it, especially if the cookies are extra sweet)
• 2 tsp mixed spice (or just cinnamon and nutmeg if that’s what you have, honestly)
• 2 tsp vanilla extract (I’ve skipped this before and lived to tell the tale)
• Cocoa powder, for dusting (I use the cheap stuff—my cousin claims you can taste the difference but eh…)
• Optional: Rum or brandy, 2 tbsp, for a grown-up touch (or skip if you’re abstaining or kids are lurking)

Let’s Get Messy: Directions (Don’t Worry, You Got This)

1. Brew Your Coffee: Get it strong and let it cool. If you’re adding rum/brandy, toss it in now. Or don’t—no pressure!
2. Whip the Cream: In a big bowl, whip the double cream, icing sugar, mixed spice, and vanilla till you get {soft peaks}. Sometimes I over-whip it and then add a splash of milk to loosen. Works every time.
3. Mix in Mascarpone: Plonk the mascarpone into the whipped cream, fold gently till it’s smooth-ish. This is where I usually sneak a taste—just to make sure quality control is intact, obviously.
4. Soak the Cookies: Now, dip gingerbread cookies one by one in the coffee. Go quick here—gingerbread gets soggy real fast. If you overdo it you’ll just end up with gingerbread soup. Trust me, it ain’t pretty.
5. Start Layering: Layer the coffee-dunked cookies at the bottom of a dish (I’ve used a roasting tin before—no judgement). Then spread half the mascarpone mixture on top. Repeat with another cookie and cream layer.
6. Chill Out: Cover and chill for at least 4 hours. Overnight is better, but honestly, I’ve only managed that once. Usually we’re too impatient.
7. Dust & Decorate: Right before digging in, dust with cocoa. Sometimes I add a few extra crumbled cookies or those cute sugar stars you get at the shops (totally optional, but looks festive).

Some Notes ‘Cause I’ve Definitely Messed These Up Before

• If your cream looks a bit lumpy, don’t panic; a quick whisk usually brings it back form the brink. Or, you know, just cover it with extra cocoa powder.
• Strong coffee really matters! Weak stuff just gets lost—trust me, one lazy Christmas morning I tried and it tasted like milky biscuits.
• Actually, gingerbread biscotti didn’t work at all—they were just too hard, like gnawing on a brick, so don’t try that unless you want a dental bill.

Variations I’ve Dabbled With (Some Winners, Some Duds)

• Once swapped mascarpone for cream cheese—tasted a bit tangier. Kinda liked it?
• Added orange zest to the cream once—gave it a jolly Christmassy pop. That was lush.
• Mulled wine instead of coffee? Eh, sounded posh, but just made it weirdly tart.
• For the vegan pal: plant cream and coconut mascarpone (found a recipe on Lazy Cat Kitchen—pretty good, actually).

What If I Don’t Have…?

No fancy trifle dish? Use a loaf pan, a salad bowl, even mugs (I saw Bon Appétit suggest that once). Sometimes I just scoop it straight form the mixing bowl, who needs aesthetics?

How To Store (Not That It Will Stick Around Long)

Cover tightly and keep in the fridge, lasts up to 3 days—but, honestly, it’s never stuck around that long in my house; someone always nicks the last bit late at night.

How I Serve It (And Why I Swear By It)

Scoop into bowls, top with a tiny mountain of cocoa and maybe a gingerbread star if feeling fancy. We do ours with thick brewed coffee or a glass of Bailey’s on the side—total bliss after a turkey overload.

Lessons From the Trenches—Pro Tips

• Rushing the soak step? I tried that once—ended up with mushy pudding at the bottom and dry cookies on top. Take a sec, dunk each cookie properly.
• Once made it all the night before and, actually, it tasted even better the next day. Flavours mellow out or something. Science!
• If you over-whip your cream, just add a splash more cream and give it a gentle stir. Disaster averted—don’t tell anyone.
• And yeah, I know I said you need real mascarpone, but honestly, I’ve resorted to using half ricotta once when I was desperate… tastes a bit more rustic but in a pinch, it’s edible.

Questions I Get Asked All the Time (Or Just Imagine I Might)

• Can I make it alcohol-free? Absolutely, mate! In fact, I usually do. Just skip the booze—easy.
• Can I use store-bought gingerbread? Of course. I can’t be faffed with baking every year anyway.
• What if my gingerbread is super crunchy? Just dunk a bit longer—err, but not too long or, you know, gingerbread soup. It’s a fine line.
• Do I need to let it sit overnight? Well, technically yes, but I’ve definitely served it after just a couple of hours and nobody’s complained (or maybe they were just being polite?)
• How much mess does this make? Honestly, less than you’d expect. Just make sure you use a decent-sized bowl or things get out of hand quick!
• What’s with the cocoa on top? Tradition, I guess! I’ve tried skipping it but it just doesn’t look or taste the same. Call me old-fashioned.

If you want more gingerbread inspo, honestly, I always get ideas from Sally’s Baking Addiction this time of year. She’s a lifesaver when the ginger-spirit moves me. Hope you love this as much as we do, or at least that it makes your kitchen smell fantastic for a couple of days.