There are those unenlightened folk who view Panettone as the Italian equivalent of fruitcake. Meaning, it’s a culinary curiosity that nobody really likes. You know, sorta like IPAs.
I am not one of them. I’ve always liked Panettone. Even the cheap, $7 ones that are found at Aldi and are objectively not-so-great. I mean, there are few things that can’t be made to taste good when lightly toasted, schmeared with butter, and accompanied by a decent cuppa Joe.
So it shouldn’t surprise anyone that Olivieri 1882‘s Panettone has been on my radar for more than a year. Olivieri 1882’s Panettone has been trumpeted as the best Panettone on the planet by sources no less than the New York Times and Food & Wine Magazine.
Olivieri 1882’s Panettone is also damn pricey. And for good reason. To quote their website:
“Our panettone is made only with natural sourdough and the dough passes a 4 days double fermentation. We fill it with raisins and candied oranges. You can find little black dots of Bourbon vanilla inside. Panettone is a rich but highly digestible cake, thanks to the usage both of first quality raw materials and of long fermentation techniques. It’s completely free from preservatives, semi-finished products, flavorings and vegetable fats. 100% prepared by hand with passion since 1882, in keeping with tradition.”
What they don’t mention is the most interesting part. The Panettone, once baked, must be hung upside-down while cooling so that it doesn’t collapse into itself. Much like most of my college roommates.
The Olivieri 1882 buzz eventually caught up with my wife, who last month stood before me and said, “Hey…I was just reading about this Italian Panettone that sells for $100.”
“You mean Olivieri 1882’s?”
“How the fuck did you know that?”
“How did you not?”
Now, there are two things to know about my wife. One is that she is game for pretty much any food adventure. The other is that, unlike her husband, she is not a world-class cheapskate.
So she ordered one. The Panettone Classico, to be exact. And we waited, more than a bit impatiently, a good three weeks for it to arrive.
And when it arrived, we (i.e., she, I, and our boy) tore into it like we had an imminent date with the electric chair.
Our unanimous verdict? Yeah…totally worth $100!*
[*Assuming you didn’t need that $100 for life-saving medication or to pay your already past-due mortgage.]
I could spill 1,000 words explaining what’s so special about this glorious hunk of dough that costs an inglorious hunk of dough, but the NY Times said it best (and saved me another 20 minutes of typing):
“If you think you’ve never had a good version of panettone, you’ll likely change your mind after tasting Olivieri 1882’s Classic Panettone. The bread’s impressively tall domed top towers beautifully over its paper collar, and when we cut into it, we were immediately struck by its bright saffron-colored crumb and pleasant orange aroma. Egg yolks are listed as the third ingredient, which likely explains the vibrant yellow color and rich custardy flavor. The bread hails from Arzignano, Italy, but tastes as fresh and moist as if it had been crafted by a local bakery.
The Olivieri 1882 panettone is tender, buttery, and fluffy with a pronounced citrus flavor that’s punchy yet not overpowering. The raisins are juicy, and the candied orange is plump and tender, not dry as in some versions we tasted, so each piece melts in your mouth. We also like that the candied citrus is evenly and generously distributed throughout the bread.
The Olivieri 1882 panettone is quite expensive, but as chef Jürgen David, director of pastry research and development at the Institute of Culinary Education told us, “If it’s good quality, just spend the money. It’s always worth it.””
It is.
We did.
It was.
And no toasting or schmearing were required.
Buon Natale, MoFos!
