Before I moved to Italy, I didn’t like panettone. At all. But cut me some slack, okay? My only point of reference for this sweet bread had been the subpar industrial manufactured versions sold at supermarkets. They were so dry they seemed stale, devastatingly bland and, well, just a bit tragic overall. Plus, I’d never been a big fan of raisins.
My first year in Italy, I attended several holiday-themed soirées and always passed on the panettone because I thought I didn’t like it—I’m pretty sure my Italian friends were judging my sweet-toothed “American” palate. Unbeknownst to me at the time, a visit to one of Italy’s most treasured bakeries would soon convince me otherwise.
One sunny Saturday morning in December 2013, a friend took me to experience Pasticceria Besuschio in Abbiategrasso, a town outside Milan. Among the delightful array of brioche and cappuccini accompanied by a nifty chocolate spoon that melted into the beverage while stirring, were two generous slabs of panettone. And not just any panettone—Andrea Besuschio’s panettone, that of a pasticcerie extraordinaire. My friend had insisted his was the best, so I picked out the raisins and took a bite--she was correct. Soft, fluffy and fresh, its rich butteriness undercut by the subtle, refreshing burst of candied fruit.
Panettone by Besuschio
Not only was I officially a believer, but I had also converted to the religion of panettone and practiced regularly—I just picked the raisins out. Though it’s associated with the holidays, you can find perfect specimens year-round, such as at Peck. Yes, I know I go there a lot, but I assure you I don’t buy a panettone every time I visit the store. Instead, about 98% of the time, they have panettone samples up for grabs year-round, so I savor a bite or two and then carry on. (I promise I’m not one of those people always out for a freebie—I always buy something, even if it’s just a coffee at the cafe, though I usually opt for wine and/or cheese.)
Panettone by Peck
It wasn’t long before I discovered the various iterations, such as the chocolate dream at Pavé or vegan at I Dolci Namura. Chef Daniel Canzian incorporates rice and saffron into his Homage to Milan version, and the Veneziana, found in various shops around town, has the candied fruits but no raisins, and tastes a tad sweeter due to the pearlized sugar strands that cover the top.
I always bring one—well, okay, a few—home to New York for Christmas. This year, I’ll be hitting up Pasticceria Rapisardi for sure as I haven’t yet tried Marcello Rapisardi’s—I’m sure it’s just as exquisite as all his other confections.
Panettone by Pavé
Though, I do have something to confess. (Any Italians who might be reading this, please don’t judge me!). As much as I adore panettone, I think I might actually prefer pandoro, a tall, powder-sugar-dusted, star-shaped vanilla cake that’s a bit more “cakey” and less “bready” than panettone...perhaps it’s that sweet-toothed “American palate” of mine?