Tiramisu in Budapest —
the way Italians make it

A good tiramisu shouldn't be heavy. It should be light on the fork, the coffee should hit first, and the mascarpone should melt rather than sit there. That balance is harder to get right than people think — too much sugar and it turns into a brick, too little coffee and it's just sweet cream with a name.

When it's done right, it's the kind of dessert you keep eating past the point of being full, because each spoonful is lighter than the last one felt.

That's the version we make. Four ways, every day, at the counter in Rákóczi tér.

Four versions on the menu, so there's one for whoever's at the table. The classic is still the one I judge a kitchen by.

Real tiramisu uses raw egg. That's the traditional recipe, and it's also why a lot of people quietly avoid it — kids, anyone pregnant, older relatives who'd rather skip the risk.

My grandmother used to walk out to the henhouse for the eggs, then whisk them with sugar by hand for a good half hour until the cream turned pale yellow. That's how it's supposed to be made. We use pasteurised eggs instead of raw ones — it doesn't change the taste or the texture, pasteurisation only kills the bacteria, so more people can order it without thinking twice.

Two more things worth trying while you're at it. The cannolo siciliano — crisp shell, ricotta filling, nothing complicated about it, which is exactly the point.

And the sbriciolona with Nutella, which is closer to something my grandmother would have made than anything fancy: buttery, crumbly, generous with the Nutella.

It's not that other places don't know how. Fresh tiramisu takes time — the eggs need to be whisked properly, the mascarpone needs to be handled right, and it needs to sit before it's ready to serve. A pre-made base skips all of that and comes out of a bag in minutes.

When a kitchen is turning over dozens of tables a night, that shortcut makes sense on paper. We only do one thing, at one counter, so there's no reason to take it.

In Florence, where I'm from, nobody skips dessert. It's just the next thing that happens after the meal, not a decision. Here it's the same — lasagne first, tiramisu after. If you want to know more about the five lasagne variants, there's a page for that too.

It travels fine too — same three-layer, oil-resistant containers we use for everything else. Holds up on the tram ride home, and it's just as good the next day out of the fridge.

We're also on Wolt if you'd rather have it come to you.

Matteo's Italian Classics is at Rákóczi tér 7, 1084 Budapest — inside Rákóczi tér Market Hall, District VIII. Enter from the Rákóczi tér side and turn right.

By public transport: trams 4 and 6 stop directly in front of the market hall. From Keleti railway station (M2 red metro line) it's a 10-minute walk.

Opening hours and map: visit us page.