Issue #83: Panettone Re-Purposed
The Holidays Are Over. Time for Panettone Bread Pudding
Happy New Year to all. Hope you enjoyed the holidays. Is it me or does it feel like January is already over? To help slow down the passage of time, why not listen to the current episode of my What’s Burning podcast, for which I interview NYU professor Fabio Parasecoli, author most recently of Gastronativism, a book about the way food is increasingly being used as an ideological tool for political purposes. Fabio is an engaging expert on the socio-cultural complexity of food. Don’t miss it. All the best for you, your family, and friends in 2023.
—Mitchell
I’ve always loved panettone. Growing up, I remember seeing the colorful boxes from Italy for sale at La Sem, an Italian bakery and café not far from where we lived in northern Toronto. The truly Italian nature of that place and all their rum-soaked pastries I only really appreciated after living in Italy many years later.
After college, I lived in Turin for the better part of a year. At Christmastime, bakers around town seemed to compete to see who could make the largest panettone. They’d prop them up on display, sometimes outside their shops to entice people in. Some were as big as three feet in diameter, often stuffed with cream. If my experience in 1992 was any indication, the Piemontese prefer their panettone well-baked, with a dark crust, and dry—all the better, perhaps, to dunk in the fine coffees and hot chocolates served at the city’s regal cafés. (Sadly, this was before cell phones and electronic cameras, so I don’t have any photos at the ready.)
In 2015, I lived in Milan—considered the spiritual home if not the birthplace of panettone—where the preference was for a fluffier, softer, more silken panettone. On a return visit, a friend tipped me off about a pop-up shop that featured what the curators considered the best panettone from across Italy, all displayed in clear boxes on white stands like jewels. Beside each display, a photograph and biography of the baker. That holiday season I tried as many as I could, while also traipsing around the city to sample any that were deemed to be the best by one listicle or another. I ate panettone from relative bakery newcomers, such as Pavé and Princi, and from old establishments, such as Cova and Polenghi. I finally settled on the panettone from Marchesi, the two-centuries-old pastry shop now owned by Prada, as my favorite. I always bring a Marchesi panettone back home with me if the timing is right.
Though Italin in origin, the panettone obsession is not unique to Italy. A recent New York Times article reported on the global panettone craze, which puts international reputations and fortunes at stake. Among the contenders is our own Roy Shvartzapel, an American obsessive in San Francisco, whose Instagram videos of panettone bisection have given him and his alveoli-puffed panettone a global cult following. (They are pretty delicious, I must say.)
Since the pandemic began and I started baking sourdough bread, I’ve even tried my hand at making my own panettone for each of the last three years. I understand why Roy call’s it the “mountaintop of baking” in that piece in the Times. The method I use takes more than five days to make, and it isn’t even the most complicated (see below). Still, I’ve been pretty satisfied with the results.
But why am I writing about panettone now that the holiday season is over?
Because I want to tell you what to do with any panettone you might have leftover. In fact, now that Christmas is past, I would encourage you to go the store and buy some panettone on sale, cut it up, and put it in your freezer to have on hand to make panettone bread pudding all year long. That’s what I do. I made one this week with a panettone I had frozen last Christmas.
Even without preservatives, panettone doesn’t stale easily. I always thought this was because of the excess of butter, eggs, and sugar in the dough. But in his 20-page recipe for panettone (the one that makes the five-day method I follow look simple in comparison), Thomas Teffri-Chambelland, author of Sourdough Baking: A Treatise, says it is actually the dextrans produced by specific populations of lactic bacteria during the extensive fermentation process specific to panettone that are responsible for the long shelf-life (and also its soft texture).
Just because it doesn’t stale, however, doesn’t mean it will all be consumed. The fanciful cookies and beribboned cakes this time of year tend to look more inviting to hungry American eyes than this seemingly humble bread. Of course, with as much as equal parts butter to flour, an excess of egg yolks, dried fruit, candied peel, chocolate, nuts, and whatever else today’s artisanal panettone bakers fancy, there is nothing humble about it. If dared, I could eat a whole one myself. But such indulgence is not advised.
Folks will tell you to treat leftover panettone like French toast (as I did in my Kitchen Sense cookbook, published in 2006). Sure, it’s tasty. But because most slices of panettone are really wedges, without crust all around to hold the slices together, and the crumb is so soft and delicate that it almost distintegrates in the dip, perfect Panettone French toast (Italian toast?) can be hard to achieve.
Instead, I encourage you to make this sumptuous bread pudding—for which the integrity of the slice is unimportant, and the addition of a custard of eggs and milk enhances both the flavor and texture of the panettone itself.
What’s more, leftover panettone isn’t all that you can use up in one of these bread puddings. I throw in stale challah or other soft bread, if I have it, sour milk, sour cream, heavy cream, whipped cream, extra egg yolks or whites, meringue, leftover egg wash, leftover French toast batter, leftover pastry cream, spoonfuls of jam, nuts, chocolate sauce, dried fruit, fresh fruit, you name it. Just mix it in.
I like to bake the pudding just before I intend to serve it, so it comes to the table risen and puffed like a soufflé. (In fact, Monday night I stirred in some fallen soufflé batter leftover from New Year’s Eve.) If I’m serving it for dessert after dinner, as I did the other night, that means I put it in the oven once I serve the main course. But you can also let the pudding cool and sink and serve it warm rather than piping hot. For additional richness, you can add a sauce, such as créme anglaise, chocolate sauce, raspberry coulis, caramel sauce, you name it.
RECIPE: Panettone Bread Pudding
(Makes 4 servings, but the recipe can easily be doubled or tripled)
2 large eggs
1 ½ cups whole milk (or other dairy products, see below)
2 to 3 tablespoons sugar
½ teaspoon vanilla extract or paste
About 8 ounces (250g) panettone, any flavor
Powdered sugar (optional)
In a medium bowl, beat together the eggs, milk, sugar, and vanilla until blended. The amount of sugar depends on the sweetness of the panettone and your taste preferences. Tear the panettone into roughly 2-inch pieces and add it to the bowl. Let sit for at least 30 minutes and up to overnight (in the fridge) so the bread absorbs the custard.
Preheat the oven to 375°F. Grease a small, 1- to 1-1/2-quart baking dish, round or square. Pour the soaked panettone and custard mixture into the prepared pan. Place in the oven and bake for 25 to 35 minutes, depending on the size of the pan, until the pudding has puffed like a soufflé, fully set (no visible liquid in the center), and nicely browned.
Remove from the oven, dust with powdered sugar, if desired, and serve immediately, while still puffed. Or let cool and settle before serving warm.
Variations
I’ve given you a very basic recipe, but as I already mentioned, this panettone bread pudding is a really great repository for other things you might have in your fridge or cupboards. Here are a few suggestions:
Substitute some or all of the milk for half and half, heavy cream, whipped cream, sour cream, Greek yogurt, buttermilk, sour cream or other dairy product.
Use up any egg yolks, egg whites, egg wash, French toast dip, pastry cream, or other sweet batter-y things you might have.
Stir in dried fruit of any kind, which you could rehydrate in boiling water or brandy, or not.
Add fresh blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, or strawberries to the mix.
Add toasted nuts, candied citrus rinds, or chocolate chips.
Spoon jams around the pudding before baking.
Serve with any sauce, such as chocolate, caramel, raspberry, custard, or anything you think might be good on it.
One year after Christmas several years ago Nate spotted panettone on sale, three for the price of two, in our local Eataly. Knowing how much I like it, he bought three, each weighing a kilogram. That was more than six pounds of sweet, enriched Christmas bread! I may still have some in the freezer.
I said this on Facebook, I say it again here, in my very humble opinion, bread pudding is truly the highest and best use of panettone. Thank you, Mitchell!