Chapter 23

Mi Su, You Su, We All Su

Pick me up.

Relax, that wasn’t an instruction for you.

In fact, it has nothing to do with me either.

“Pick me up” is the literal translation of one of the world’s most famous desserts, one that you could pretty accurately describe in 2026 as India’s National Dessert.

Pick-me-up.

Tira-mi-su.

Here’s what goes into a classic: a luscious, creamy layer of whipped mascarpone cheese interspersed with savoiardi biscuits (which is just a fancy word for finger-shaped sponge cake biscuits) that are fleetingly dipped in a coffee solution. The duration of the dipping is much like some of our top-order batting in the recent T20 World Cup (sometimes a little brief, sometimes a little longer). The dish is finished with a generous sprinkling of cocoa powder (enough to seriously threaten the AQI in your kitchen).

In other words: cake, cream, cake, cream, cocoa. Somewhere in there, some kind of alcohol is thrown in - so you have a genuine excuse not to share it with your kids (much like my bestie used to do when I would send her her favourite dessert, my Pecan Pie, which would quietly disappear into a box in her closet, safe from small reaching hands). We do what we must.

Anyway, that’s a classic Tiramisu. Simple, elegant, perfect. A dessert that knows exactly what it is, the Sachin Tendulkar of the pastry world: undefeated, universally beloved and pleasant to the core.

And then Bombay got hold of it.

Between Venice and Versova, something got loose in translation. Because in the last year or two, Tiramisu hasn't just picked us up - it has moved in, rearranged the furniture, and started a full-blown rebellion.

Walk into any café in Bombay today and you'll find Tiramisu in multiple avatars, unnecessary remakes, and at least one version nobody asked for but everyone's obsessed with. Classic coffee Tiramisu is now the Doordarshan era - black and white, respected, beloved, but let's be honest, a little too dignified and old school for 2026.

Anyone remember Salma Sultan?

If you want to keep up (as a tiramisu) in 2026, you need to add some colour to your life.

Like Strawberry tiramisu, because it looks beautiful and pink. Or Mango tiramisu, because if you're going to fruitize it, might as well crown it with the king of fruits. Pistachio tiramisu, because the Dubai chocolate revolution might be even bigger than the tiramisu revolution? Matcha tiramisu, because come on, “it's matcha babe”. Lemon tiramisu, like a khatta meetha sharbat that got too comfortable with itself. Or pumpkin spice tiramisu, which probably makes the Italians feel the same way I do when I hear ‘chai tea latte’ (read, blood boiling) And Earl Grey tiramisu…okay, I don’t have anything on this last one except why oh why??

Did you know, Earl Grey tea was named after the 19th-century British PM, Charles Grey. Now you too have a piece of useless trivia.

It doesn’t stop there though.

When Tiramisu got off the plane at T2 in Mumbai, stirring with ambition, it apparently wondered - “I could be so much more”. And so began the misu cult, meaning it broke out of its shell (and the desserts section) and seemingly invaded every other item on the menu too.

t’is true

Suddenly it's a cold coffee. It's a cookie. It's a muffin you eat for breakfast while pretending it's not cake (it's definitely cake). There are tiramisu croissants, tiramisu cheesecakes, tiramisu popsicles. An Italian man has become an institution in Mumbai for his Insta-friendly misu-game. A drink-centric café in Bombay puts a huge blob of tiramisu on top of their coffee, which makes a spectacular mess while serving, carrying, eating, drinking, and everything in between. But it's getting a lot of street cred for said mess. Makes sense. There are no flops when you have misu as your star, you see.

should have called it the Shrek-a-misu

There are entire cafés mushrooming around the world that sell only tiramisu. Matcha, classic, apple crumble, black sesame (don't shoot the messenger), peanut brownie and what not. ‘What not’ is not a flavour, but who's to say it can't be? I might just put nothing in it except cake and cream and call it 'What Not Misu'. Watch it sell out.

The phenomenon has reached levels where your friend casually says “let’s get tiramisu” and you have to ask seventeen follow-up questions. Which one? Where? The OG or the one with the weird fruit? Cake, beverage or balls? Are we eating it or drinking it through a straw while questioning our life choices?

It’s exactly like going to a coffee shop and being asked 35 questions about the kind of coffee you want, the kind of milk in it, the sweetener, the cup size, the temperature, the vibe. That is why I only order tea. No one asks ANY questions before they take your order.

But despite all of my surprise (and sometimes horror) at all the strange places and disguises the tiramisu now finds itself in, I must offer a confession.

I love my misu too. Give me a cake-and-cream combo and I’ll have a smile on my face and a bowl ready in front of me. When I worked on the menu for The Croffle Guys, the first flavour at the kitchen trials was Tiramisu Croffle.

For Nandan Coffee, I developed the Tiramisu French Toast. Both are certified crowd favourites, if I do say so myself.

Much like the rest of the city (and the country?), tiramisu didn’t just pick us up - it swept us off our feet, asked us to marry it, and now we’re in too deep (with three kids and a vacation home) to turn back.

So *ahem* give me the classic, the colours, every weird flavour or form. I’ll try ‘em all. The misu-verse shows no signs of wrapping up production. New flavours in development. Sequels in the pipeline. Spin-offs nobody asked for but everyone will order. And I'll be there. First day, first show. Spoon in hand…assured in the knowledge that any misu is always better than no misu (and mine will always be better 😜).