What expands but doesn’t fill, and disappears immediately? Zabaione! I have spent far too much time this week thinking about how to riddle what may be my favourite pudding: a boozy, warm, puffed cream. Riddles that turned into terrible jokes after reading Sophia Loren’s wonderful, frisky description of how, in southern Italy, there is a custom of giving newlyweds a good stiff zabaione, “the implication being that the young bride and groom will need all the strength they can get as they put their backs into the first days of wedlock”.
I made zabaione recently, with a friend who lives in paradise, in a house surrounded by a wild garden, on the edge of Lago Maggiore. While it can be made in advance (and kept in the fridge), we agree it is best made and eaten immediately. So, after a meal of gnocchi and vitello tonnato (which I will write about one day), we stood at her stove in our socks, very Sophia Loren, and set up a double boiler and mixed yolk, sugar and fortified wine.
Zabaione, zabaglione, sambayon … the various names have various stories. In Piedmont, the ancient name of sambayon is apparently named after San Pasquale Baylón. In Tuscany, like other sweet things, it is traced back to the court of Caterina de’ Medici, while the Venetian version may have arrived from Illyria as zabaja. Meanwhile, Encyclopedia Treccani notes only that zabaione is onomatopoeic, from Northern Italy and refers to the action of mescolanza – mixing, or guazzabuglio, a confused mixture of various material or abstract things.
Suggestions for proportions of the mixture are also varied. While many recipes suggest equal quantities of yolk, sugar and fortified wine, others call for quite extreme amounts of sugar, and differing quantities of alcohol: lots or very little, sometimes three, even four times as much booze as sugar. Of course, much depends on what fortified wine you are using, vin santo being sweeter than dry marsala, although some recipes call for sweet marsala. Then there are recipes that use rum, or coffee, a dish which is also called l’uovo sbattuto, beaten egg.
I use dry marsala, let the egg yolks lead and tablespoons help out. A yolk from a medium egg is 18g (more or less), and I add to it one tablespoon of caster sugar (12g) and one tablespoon of the marsala (15ml). For me, these are the ideal proportions for a portion of well-balanced zabaione – sweet, but not overly so; giddy, but not drunk. Just multiply by the number of people; so for four servings, in a bowl balanced over gently simmering water, whisk four yolks and four tablespoons of caster sugar until softly foamy, then gradually add four tablespoons of dry marsala and keep whisking until done.
To begin with, the mixture foams like a bath after a half-hearted splash, but after whisking persistently for six or seven minutes (either by hand or with an electric whisk), something quite miraculous occurs; it thickens and expands to three or four times its original volume. What happens is down to the proteins in the yolk: disrupted by stirring, and helped by heat and the wine’s acidity, the protein molecules are unpacked for action and coat the air bubbles, which bond, causing expansion. The key is making sure the simmer remains gentle so the mixture never overheats. And stopping at the right moment, when the zabaione is puffed, thick and stable: the whisk leaves furrows and retains cream inside, but soft rather than sticky and over-coagulated; aerated and creamy as opposed to shaving foam.
The other reason to keep the zabaione quite soft is so people can decide if they eat it with a spoon, scoop it up with a sponge finger or cat tongue biscuit, or drink it. Which is why I serve zabaione in cups; I am attached to some amber glass ones from Vincenzo’s grandma, part of the same set as a triangular salad bowl, which is ideal for cream, which should also be whipped and, while optional, usually disappears without a trace.
Zabaione
Prep 15 min
Cook 10 min
Serves 4
4 medium egg yolks
4 tbsp caster sugar
4 tbsp dry marsala
In a bowl set over (but not touching) gently simmering water, whisk the yolks and sugar until foamy. You can use either a hand or electric whisk for this.
While whisking, add the marsala gradually, and continue whisking, constantly and quite firmly until the mixture expands into a light and puffed consistency, about three to four times its initial volume – this will take about six to eight minutes. It is very important that the simmer is gentle – the bowl mustn’t overheat.
Divide the mixture between four bowls or cups and serve immediately with sponge fingers or cat tongue biscuits. Zabaione can also be served cold: leave it to cool before keeping in the fridge for up to six hours.
