Hand-made Panettone and other Italian Christmas Treats

Roscioli bakery, all decked up for Christmas and ready to make some deliveries. Photo by author.

It's almost Christmas and here in Italy that means one thing: time to stock up on panettone, pan d'oro, torrone, and all the other ubiquitous holiday sweets. And it isn't hard: everywhere you turn, from supermarkets to bakeries to pastry shops, stacks and stacks of these traditional Christmas desserts are just waiting to be snapped up by hungry, sweet-toothed shoppers. Some are becoming so famous that you can find them not just in Italy but around the world.

Here's a guide to Italian Christmas treats.

Panettone

A baker at Roscioli taking freshly-baked panettoni out of the oven to cool. Photo by author.

The most famous of the bunch, panettone (which translates roughly to "little big bread") originally comes from Milan. It has a dry cakey consistency and is dotted (unfortunately) with raisins and other bits of candied fruit. Despite being the most commonly found and supposedly popular Italian Christmas treat, I've never actually met someone who likes it (although the mini-version is undeniably adorable). These days, you can find versions without raisins, or better yet, with chocolate chips instead, and this is a vast improvement.

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Pan d'Oro

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Pan d'oro ("bread of gold") is only slightly less popular than its raisin-filled friend. This star-shaped cake originally from Verona is a bit lighter, somewhere between the texture of a plain muffin and angel's food cake. Luckily, it has no raisins or other dried fruits lurking inside. The best part about eating pan d'oro is adding a liberal dusting of powdered sugar. You toss the entire cake into the big plastic bag it comes in, dump in the included packet of powdered sugar, and shake vigorously.  My suocero (father-in-law) performs this task with particular gusto.

Torrone

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Of the "big three," torrone is definitely my favorite. It is not a cake, but a candy, and it hails from the northern city of Cremona, where it was supposedly named after the famous medieval tower of that city (torrone means "big tower.") It's a long, rectangular candy bar made of egg whites, honey, sugar, and various kinds of nuts. Depending on the variety, it can be rock-hard or chewy and sticky. My personal favorites are the ones made with almonds and pistachios, and coated with chocolate. This chocolate coating is not strictly traditional, but the way I see it, when was the last time a dessert suffered from being coated in chocolate? Never, amirite?? They also sell torroni made entirely of chocolate and nuts, but as much as I enjoyed eating them, you can't really call them torroni.

Panforte

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Now, if torrone and panettone got together late one night after closing time in the bakery window and reproduced, the result would be panforte, although in this case I don't think that coupling was wise. This "strong bread" from Siena is the closest thing to a true fruitcake that you can find in Italy, and the best part about it is that it's relatively small. Because, honestly, does anyone actually like fruitcake? Chewy, nutty panforte's only saving grace is that it is spicy (it used be called panpepato, "peppered bread").

Ricciarelli

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Now we're getting to the good stuff. Ricciarelli, named after the famous opera singer Katia Ricciarelli (not really), are little lozenge-shaped cookies that date back to 14th-century Siena. Like all the best Italian cookies, their main ingredient is almond paste and they are covered with powdered sugar. They are simple, delicate, and delicious, and like a good Italian transplant, I happily had several this morning for breakfast.

Cartellate

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From the southern regions of Puglia and Basilicata come cartellate. These seriously sinful sweets are made from cooked wine, cinnamon, honey, and sugar, and deep-fried to a golden brown. I have never tried these southern Christmas treats, but after reading about them (and how to make them) on Ciao Chow Linda's blog, I'm tempted to brave the mad two-shopping-days-left city just to try and find some!

Buccellato

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This wouldn't be an Italian dessert round-up without a nod from Sicily, island that, quite frankly, I wouldn't be surprised to discover was made entirely of sugar. Their signature Christmas treat is buccellato, a ring-shaped cake made of pasta frolla (a light and exquisite pastry dough) and filled with dried figs, orange peel, and chocolate chips. A second version is filled instead with almond paste and dried pumpkin.

Struffoli

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And last, but certainly not least, the unbeatable Christmas treat from Naples. My suocera (mother-in-law) is from Naples, and she makes struffoli every year, so I'll be consuming it in large quantities starting tomorrow. Struffoli are basically tiny balls of sweet dough, deep-fried and coated in honey, and then covered with colored sprinkles and bits of candied fruit. All I can say is, it's incredibly addicting and I can't wait for tomorrow.

And with that, dearest bloglings, I leave you with your mouths watering while I rush out to do my Christmas shopping (procrastinate much?). Which of these treats is your favorite, and did I leave anything out?

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La Festa de' Noantri, the festival of the Trasteverini

Festa de' Noantri procession, 1950s [source]

 

I remember that morning like it was yesterday: a bright mid-summer dawn, just weeks after moving into my dream Trastevere apartment. In a haze of grogginess and not enough sleep, I hear a booming, nasal voice. It's Sunday and seems impossibly early for whatever is happening, especially as it's happening right outside my bedroom window. 


I bury my head in my pillow as I hear a monotone voice bleating out of a loudspeaker. Yes, a loudspeaker. A half-blind glance at my phone shows it’s not even 7am. "...Madre di Dio, prega per noi peccatori..."

Madre di Dio, what the...?

This I had to see. I flop out of bed and stumble over to the window. "Ave Maria, piena di grazia..." the voice drones on. Opening the shutters, I peer below.

Festa de' Noantri, Via Garibaldi, 2010, Crazy o'clock AM

Festa de' Noantri, Via Garibaldi, 2010

Festa de' Noantri, Via Garibaldi, 2010

A procession, a full-on religious procession, was trundling past my window. There were priests, altar boys, a smattering of older ladies in somber dress. They were all doing a call-and-repeat version of the Ave Maria that I have since become much more familiar with. Oh, and they were carrying a gigantic statue of the Virgin Mary on their shoulders. One thing I have learned living in Italy is that Italians love the Virgin Mary. I mean, they love her more than Jesus. Or so it seemed to my then-non-Catholic self. I had almost literally stumbled upon the Festa de’ Noantri.

The pictures I've included here were not, of course, taken that morning, but four years later, when I was sadly packing up to leave that very same apartment and knew I was going to miss everything about it (besides the landlord).  Little did I know then that my new apartment would be on the self-same procession route. It’s actually not so improbable; the Festa de’ Noantri procession goes down practically every street in Trastevere.

For a little bit of historical background (and a break from my nonsensical reminiscing), the festival dates back to 1535 when, after a storm, a cedar statue of the Madonna was fished out of the Tiber (on the Trastevere side, let it be noted!). Exactly where the statue came from is still a mystery, but where it ended up is not. It was donated to the order of the Carmelites, and hence it became known as the Madonna del Carmine (although many still refer to it as the Madonna della Fiumarola, since it was found in the river). The statue was kept in San Crisogono, an ancient church in Piazza Sonnino, and was immediately considered the protectress of the trasteverini. The statue was eventually transferred to the unassuming church of Sant’Agata, right across the square.

Every July, the first Saturday after the 16^th to be precise, a major 8-day festival takes place in my beloved neighborhood to celebrate this “miraculous” statue (if you can consider a statue be fished out of a river a miracle). The original statue stays put in Sant’Agata (these days she’s too precious to move about), but a 19^th-century polychrome wooden copy is carried about to much fanfare and jubilation (and yes, they change her outfit every year). 

Festa de' Noantri, Pza San Francesco d'Assisi, 2012

Festa de' Noantri, Pza San Francesco d'Assisi, 2012

Festa de' Noantri, Via San Francesco a Ripa, 2012

After a goodly number of masses and benediction ceremonies, she is carried in solemn procession from Sant’Agata to the original statue’s first home, San Crisogono. But don’t think they just walk her across the square. That would be too easy. No, she is carried down Via della Lungaretta, Via della Luce and into Piazza San Francesco d’Assisi (where another celebration takes place), down Via San Francesco a Ripa, Via Natale del Grande, Via Roma Libera, and many more streets in Trastevere, until she is finally deposited at San Crisogono, where she stays for the duration of the festival.

Festa de' Noantri, Via San Francesco a Ripa, 2013

Festa de' Noantri, Via San Francesco a Ripa, 2013

Festa de' Noantri, Via San Francesco a Ripa, 2013

My friend Jill watching the procession from across the street

Then the partying begins: street concerts of traditional music (cue: Roma,nun fa’ la stupida sta sera), old folks literally dancing in the streets, stall selling porchetta in Piazza Sonnino, bersaglieri playing their trumpets while they run (seriously impressive), and endless shouts of “Evviva Maria!” to be heard at any time of day or night. At the end of the festival, the pièce de resistance is when hundreds of people line the river or stand on the bridges to watch the Madonna float down the Tiber on a boat at sunset, from Ponte Sant’Angelo to Ponte Garibaldi.

Madonna della Fiumarola, Ponte Garibaldi, 2012

Madonna della Fiumarola, Isola Tiberina, 2012

So why is it called the Festa “de’ Noantri”? The word Noantri is a dialectical version of “noi altri” (us others). This was a way the residents of Trastevere voiced their indignation at the phrase, “voi altri che abitate in altri quartieri” (you others who live in other neighborhoods), with which they were referenced by the Roman populace. They were considered 2^nd-class citizens because they lived on the wrong side of the tracks Tiber. 

I feel very differently about the Festa de' Noantri these days, and that has less to do with the fact that I'm a Catholic convert (that's a story for another post), and more to do with the fact that the procession no longer wakes me up on Sunday mornings. It still passes under my bedroom window (although I now live in a different apartment on a different street), but it does so around 7 o’clock on Saturday night instead of 7 o’clock on Sunday morning, and that makes all the difference. In fact, I’ve come to love this festival. I’m now in my 8^th year of witnessing it on my very street and it literally never gets old.

Festa de' Noantri, Piazza San Francesco d'Assini, 2012

If you happen to be in Trastevere tonight (Wed, 24 July 2013), get over to Piazza San Francesco d'Assini, stat! A brass band is playing as I write this, and who knows? Maybe the bersaglieri will show up with their fantastic feathered hats? I know I’ll be watching from my window.



Visit the festival's official site for a program of processions and events. 

All photos (except first) by author.

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