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Tiramisu Cookies Recipe | Soft Espresso Cookies With Mascarpone Cream

A Story at the Kitchen Table

The smell of freshly brewed espresso used to fill my grandmother’s kitchen every Sunday afternoon. She didn’t have much, but what she had, she shared with joy—coffee, simple cookies, and a listening ear. It wasn’t about the food as much as it was about being together. The table was a place of refuge, a place where laughter and tears coexisted, and where no one left feeling unseen.

Now, years later, I find myself carrying forward that same legacy in my own kitchen. Recipes like these soft espresso tiramisu cookies are not just desserts—they are reminders that even the smallest offerings, when made with love, can become holy moments.

Sometimes life feels heavy, and the world’s brokenness feels overwhelming. But in those moments, something as simple as a shared cookie, a warm conversation, or a prayer whispered over coffee reminds us: we are not alone.

The Recipe: Soft Espresso Cookies with Mascarpone Cream

These cookies are inspired by the classic Italian tiramisu—layered with espresso, mascarpone, and cocoa. But instead of a dish for a special occasion, these cookies bring that same joy in a smaller, everyday form.

Ingredients

For the cookies:

• 1 cup unsalted butter, softened

• 1 cup brown sugar

• ½ cup white sugar

• 2 large eggs

• 2 tsp vanilla extract

• 2 tbsp instant espresso powder

• 2 cups all-purpose flour

• 1 tsp baking soda

• ½ tsp salt

For the mascarpone cream filling:

• 8 oz mascarpone cheese

• ½ cup powdered sugar

• 1 tsp vanilla extract

• 2 tbsp heavy cream

For garnish:

• Unsweetened cocoa powder, for dusting

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

2. In a large bowl, cream butter and sugars until light and fluffy.

3. Beat in eggs, vanilla, and espresso powder until well combined.

4. Whisk flour, baking soda, and salt in a separate bowl, then add to the wet mixture. Stir until just combined.

5. Scoop dough onto prepared baking sheets and bake 10–12 minutes, until edges are set but centers remain soft.

6. While cooling, prepare the mascarpone cream by beating mascarpone, powdered sugar, vanilla, and heavy cream until smooth and fluffy.

7. Once cookies are cooled, sandwich two together with mascarpone cream. Dust tops with cocoa powder for that classic tiramisu finish.

Baking and the Gift of Presence

Baking is more than following steps—it’s an act of presence. Just as kneading dough requires patience, and waiting for cookies to cool takes restraint, our lives require us to slow down and be present with God and with each other.

Jesus said:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” — Matthew 11:28

Like resting dough, our souls need resting space. Cookies remind us of waiting, and in that waiting, God meets us.

The Psalmist echoes this truth:

“Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.” — Psalm 34:8

A cookie shared can become an invitation into that goodness. It doesn’t erase hardship, but it allows a small taste of God’s nearness.

And Proverbs reminds us of the beauty in shared moments:

“Better a small serving of vegetables with love than a fattened calf with hatred.” — Proverbs 15:17

The table—whether filled with cookies or a simple pot of soup—becomes holy when love is present.

Finding Strength in Everyday Acts

When the world feels overwhelming, we may believe we have nothing to offer. But like these cookies—simple ingredients transformed into something delightful—our small acts of care can ripple outward.

A phone call to a lonely friend.
A meal prepared for someone who is grieving.
A prayer whispered in the quiet when no one is watching.

These are as sacred as any sermon. They are resilience in action. They are dignity expressed in love.

Isaiah’s words capture this hope:

“He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.” — Isaiah 40:29

Even when our hands feel empty, God multiplies what little we give.

An Invitation to Walk Together

Friend, I don’t share recipes only to fill your kitchen—I share them because food has always been a way of connecting hearts and carrying stories. Writing these words, sharing reflections, and offering recipes is part of my own way of creating a table where no one feels alone.

If this space has nourished you, would you consider being part of this work? Not out of pressure, but out of shared vision. Here are some ways you can join in:

• Pray for this work, that words written here may encourage someone who feels unseen.

• Share this post with someone who might need both a recipe and a word of hope today.

• Encourage by leaving a comment or sending a message—I would love to hear your stories too.

• Give, if you feel led, to support this writing so it can continue reaching others.

We are stronger together. Just as one cookie doesn’t make a feast, one voice can’t carry all the hope the world needs. But together—sharing, praying, and creating—we can build tables of belonging and joy.

May every bite of these tiramisu cookies remind you: you are loved, you are seen, and you are part of a greater story of God’s goodness.

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