While writing Concerto, capturing the sense of taste was particularly important, for my hero, Umberto, is blind. His other senses are heightened, so he is more aware of how he experiences eating a dish. Taste is one of his few remaining pleasures in life.

For Concerto, I learnt to make Sbrisolona, which is absolutely delicious: crunchy, buttery, crumbly – the word comes from the Italian sbriciolarsi, meaning to crumble. It is a sort of fusion of a streusel and a tart. It originated in the north of Italy, in Mantova, in the 1600s and was a simple dessert for peasants, but then the Gonzaga family, who ruled the city, took up the recipe and added ingredients like sugar and almonds, which were expensive, and so it became a special treat.

Here is the scene in Concerto in which my heroine, Catriona, tries it for the first time:

Adelina returned to the table with what looked more like a large almond biscuit than a tart and two tall glasses of cream. ‘La Torta Sbrisolona,’ she announced as she placed the cake on the table and proceeded to divide it into rather large segments.

‘Ah, what a surprise,’ Umberto exclaimed. ‘My favourite and yours, eh, Adelina?’ For the first time he laughed deep in his throat, those piercing green eyes sparkling to life.

‘Sì, Signore, you know my guilty pleasure,’ she replied, looking at him with eyes full of affection, but also tinged with pity. She then placed slices of cake on two plates and placed them in front of Umberto and Catriona. ‘Tell me what you think, Dottoressa.’

Before Catriona could respond, Umberto picked up his slice and proceeded to break off pieces with his hands. ‘Crumble it with your fingers,’ he told her, ‘and either pour the zabaglione on to it or add it to your glass. They are meant to be eaten together. Like this …’ There was something touching in the way he showed her how, moving with careful coordination, and Catriona felt her heart constrict and a lump form in her throat.

The cake had a delicious crumbly texture, like a streusel topping. It reminded her of the English blackberry and apple crumble she used to eat every Sunday as a child. She nearly said so but caught herself in time as she added a few pieces to the zabaglione. ‘Mmm!’ she exclaimed as she took a mouthful of crunchy dessert mixture, feeling the pastry dissolve on her tongue. ‘This is bliss! Delizioso. Grazie, Adelina.’

The housekeeper’s face broke into a large smile that made her look ten years younger. ‘Prego, Dottoressa, buon appetito.’ She looked delighted and Catriona felt to some measure that she had won Adelina over.

Here is the recipe I follow for Sbrisolona, which has proven a real hit with my friends and family. I hope you will enjoy it too.

Ingredients

200 grams yellow cornmeal

200 grams unblanched almonds

200 grams caster sugar (or brown, if you prefer the flavour)

200 grams unsalted butter, softened

150 grams plain flour

2 egg yolks, lightly beaten

Zest of 1 lemon

½ teaspoon vanilla extract

½ teaspoon ground cinnamon

¼ teaspoon fine sea salt

Method

1. Preheat oven to 180 degrees.
2. Roughly chop all but a few of the almonds (I use a mixer for this).
3. Stir in the cornmeal, flour and sugar.
4. Rub in the butter to make a breadcrumb consistency.
5. Stir in the remaining ingredients.
6. Spread evenly in a greased, lined cake tin (around 9 inches).
7. Sprinkle the remaining almonds (whole) on top.
8. Bake for around 35 minutes until a deep golden brown.
9. Cool and break into pieces, and enjoy with zabaglione or a sprinkling of grappa.