R for Rasberry Mascarpone Mousse

I live in Atlanta, and sometimes, when my family is feeling slightly Hill-Billy we shimmy on down to a small farm about 1 hour away, where you can roam the area, and pick your own fruits and vegetables. Now as a kid who oddly loved fruit, this was my paradise. Like in that book, Blueberries for Sal, (which was a bedtime classic in my household) I was that little girl that was eating all the ripe blackberries and wild strawberries rather than collecting them in my basket. But the old couple that owned that farm didn't mind, they were some of the nicest people I have ever known and after a couple hours of meandering down the endless aisles of cucumbers and grapes, we would sit on a picnic bench in front of their house, while they brought us delicious, freshly picked watermelon and some of the juiciest raspberries ever. To this day, I'm pretty positive I haven't had a better raspberry.

Now, in this recipe, when combined with cream and whipped crazy, with a lil' splash of blueberry liquor, it was not anywhere close to the taste of those fresh raspberries on those scorching July days, but it was still pretty darn yummy. This was not one of my favorites, just because the cream hogged all the limelight, while the poor raspberry flavor couldn't shine through. I thought it was going to be refreshing and cleansing, while, after a filling meal, it seemed to dense and bland, even if it's texture was airy and light. Though it had good intentions, I expected more from this recipe.

P.S. I never realized I had spelled raspberries wrong until this post, since when is there a "p" in the middle of the word? Who woulda thunk it.

From page 49 in Cuisinart cookbook