By Eleonora Baldwin -
Pandoro
Honoring tradition, the Italian family gathers on Christmas Eve for a sumptuous dinner. In the less wealthy yet exuberant southern regions of Italy, the meal respects the Christian observing rule of fasting. The menu is therefore solely based of fish, but the bare minimum standard dinner includes: pasta with clams and mussels, steamed Moby Dick-size salmon or sea bass, fresh baby sardines in lemon marinade, capitone eel, octopus casserole, and raw shell fish of every size shape and form. A stronghold of Neapolitan Christmas cuisine is the bizarre Insalata di Rinforzo. Literally ‘reinforcement salad’, a mixture of tossed boiled cauliflower, anchovies, olives and mixed pickled giardiniera, dressed in vinegar and olive oil. The name suggests the need for support should the meal be poor, but this is rarely the case. Perhaps it dates back to an ancient tradition when Napoli’s bien être was for royalty and very few others, unlike today.
In the nether Italian regions, those located roughly above and around the Po River valley the menu features a rich antipasto, mixed salumi and cheese platters, an elaborate pasta dish like lasagna, stuffed capon (a fattened castrated rooster), goose or more recently turkey. Plus all sorts of vegetable side dishes like broiled potatoes, mesclun salad, sautéed greens, mashed potatoes, and of course a myriad of desserts, the traditional Milanese Panettone primarily. It is an elaborate sweet fluffy sourdough dome-shaped bread studded with candied orange, lemon zest, raisins and glazed with almonds and sugar.
Panettone is however closely related to its Verona counterpart, the palatable and delicate Pandoro. The name of this tall, distinctive cake shaped like a Christmas tree, literally means ‘golden bread’. Pandoro is topped with powdered sugar reminiscent of snow, or a twinkling star. And indeed, if cut horizontally each slice of Pandoro is an eight-pointed star.
In the Middle Ages, white bread was food meant solely for the wealthy, while the common people could only afford to eat rye or barley bread and, often, not even that. Sweetened breads were reserved for nobility banquets. Breads enriched with eggs, butter and sugar were served in the most luxurious feasts and occasions, and were known as “royal bread” or “golden bread.”
Pandoro, which is the conjunction of the Italian words pane and oro, for ‘bread’ and ‘gold,’ is served dusted with vanilla confectioner’s sugar made to resemble the snowy peaks during Christmas. If any is leftover on Christmas morning after the previous nights celebrations, sliced Pandoro briefly heated in the oven, then dunked in steaming hot cappuccino, I assure, will make you weep more than Verona’s own Juliet bidding farewell to her Romeo.
Here’s the recipe for homemade Pandoro, should it be difficult to find it in your part of the world. The preparation is a bit complex, but can create a fun activity for the entire family.
1 1/2 cups flour, sifted
3 oz. baker’s yeast
1/2 cup confectioner’s sugar
5 eggs, separated
1 cup whole milk, warmed
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 pinch vanilla
1 pinch of salt
1 teaspoon grated orange peel
Vanilla-flavored powdered sugar for garnishing
In a large bowl mix together the flour, the yeast melted in a little water, the grated orange rind and a pinch of salt. As you mix, add the warm milk, the softened butter and the 5 yolks (one at at time). Beat the egg whites until stiff peaks form, and add those to the mixture as well. Keep mixing with a wooden spoon until the dough comes off the sides of the mixing bowl.
Let the dough rise, covered, in a warm draft-free place for a good two/three hours, or until doubled in size.
Butter and dust with sugar a large mold, preferably deep and star-shaped. Place the dough in the mold (it should fill it only half way) and let it rise until the dough reaches the upper rim of the pan. Bake your pandoro in a pre-heated oven at 375° F.
After 20 minutes reduce the temperature to 325° F and bake for another 30 minutes. Let it cool in the mold and then turn the pandoro over. Now you can dust it with vanilla-flavored powdered sugar and smile at your masterpiece.
Whew, that was quite a work out. Now you can prize yourself with a fat slice of pandoro and a tall flute of Champagne.
Buon Natale!
About the author:
When she’s not shooting on location around the world on a film set as script supervisor – or writing a food/travel column – you’ll most probably find Eleonora W. Baldwin busy cooking in her Rome kitchen. Author of the blogs Aglio, Olio & Peperoncino and Forchettine – and an incurable wanderlust addict, freelance writer, translator, mother, dreamer.
