Panforte di Siena
Every Christmas, a flat, round package wrapped in pleated paper and containing a dense hockey puck of…what? Was it a cake? a torte? candy? Whatever it was would appear on our buffet, purchased by my mother. She would unwrap it, lay it lovingly on a plate, and take in its medieval spicy, nutty, fruity scent. Then, using a large, sharp knife---and all her might---she would hack out a thin, sticky wedge and offer it around.
To our mother, a slice of panforte di Siena was a slice of heaven. To my sister and me, it was all of our least favorite baking ingredients—nuts plus candied fruit—rolled into one. We much preferred iced gingerbread cookies and buttery crescents rolled in powdered sugar to this weird medieval Tuscan treat.
So imagine my surprise when I found myself in my kitchen one day, actually making panforte. What happened? I honestly don't know. Possibly age (sticky fruit and nuts get to be more appealing as time goes by), probably nostalgia. Also, history. Panforte has a long and impressive history dating back to the 13th Century (maybe earlier), when, according to some accounts, the good people of Siena offered it as a form of tax payment to the local monks. It was considered an extravagant dessert for its abundant use of expensive spices, including coriander, cloves, and white pepper. In 1879, a somewhat lighter version was created for Queen Margherita. There are many variations, with a changing mix of fruits and nuts and spices. What hasn't changed is Italians' reverence for it. Let's face it: if something has stuck around (literally) for more than 800 years, who am I to dismiss it?
I used two recipes as my guideline: one from Gingerbread, by Jennifer Lindner McGlinn, rich with spices, toasted hazelnuts, dried apricots and candied orange peel; and the other from my friend Diane Morgan in her book Gifts Cooks Love. Diane's ingredient list included dried mission figs and a little unsweetened cocoa, both of which really appealed to me. Between those two recipes, I came up with one that quickly made me an convert.
Like other dense, fruit- and nut-filled cakes, panforte get better as it hangs around. Make it ahead of time, wrap it tightly in plastic wrap, and store it in a cool place or in the refrigerator, for several days and up to a month. Feel free to adapt this recipe to your liking, substituting your favorite dried fruits, nuts, and spices. Jennifer's recipe calls for a nonstick 8-inch springform pan. Mine is not nonstick, but I lined it with parchment, which I buttered generously, and had no trouble removing the baked panforte.
PANFORTE DI SIENA
Makes one 8-inch panforte
Ingredients
Butter for greasing the parchment-lined pan
3/4 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon unsweetened cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
1 cup almonds (skins on or off ), toasted and coarsely chopped
1/2 cup hazelnuts, toasted, skinned, and coarsely chopped
1/2 cup walnuts, toasted and coarsely chopped
1/2 cup lightly packed dried pitted apricots, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup lightly packed dried mission figs, coarsely chopped
3/4 cup dried cranberries
1/2 cup dark raisins
1/2 cup sultanas (golden raisins)
1/4 cup chopped candied orange peel
2 tablespoons candied citron (use at your own peril!)
3/4 cup sugar
3/4 cup honey
1/4 cup water
Confectioners' sugar for dusting
Instructions
1. Position a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat the oven to 300 F. Generously butter an 8-by-2-inch springform pan and line with parchment paper. Generously butter the parchment paper.
2. Whisk together the flour, cocoa, salt, cinnamon, ginger, coriander, allspice, and cloves in a large bowl. Add the almonds, hazelnuts, walnuts, dried apricots, raisins and sultanas, dried cranberries, and the candied orange peel (and citron if you dare). Stir well to coat everything evenly with the dry ingredients.
3. Combine the sugar, honey, and water in a small saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the sugar and honey have dissolved. Bring to a boil, place a candy thermometer in the mixture, and continue to cook, without stirring, to 238 degrees F (soft-ball stage), 10 to 15 minutes.
4. Remove the cooked sugar from the heat, immediately pour it over the nut and fruit mixture, and stir until the ingredients are well combined. The batter will be very sticky and thick.
5. Scrape the batter into the prepared pan and, using a heatproof spatula or your fingers, spread it evenly in the pan, pressing firmly. (If you use your fingers, you might want to wet them with cold water before you start spreading the dough to prevent them from sticking.) Wrap the pan with a parchment collar that rises about 3 inches above the pan and secure with kitchen twine. (I usually omit this last step of wrapping the pan in parchment. I suspect its purpose is to prevent the fruit and nuts on the surface of the cake to brown and harden too much, but mine seems to turn out OK.)
6. Set the pan on a baking sheet and bake the panforte for 60 to 70 minutes, or until it is puffed and dark golden brown. Set the panforte on a wire rack to cool completely in the pan. When it has cooled, carefully remove the sides of the springform pan and slide the panforte off the bottom of the pan. (I ended up inverting the panforte and gently prying off the bottom of the pan.)
7. Dust the panforte with confectioners' sugar and cut it into thin wedges if serving immediately. Alternatively, omit the dusting of sugar, keep the panforte whole, and store it for at least several days, as it improves with age. To store the panforte for more than a few days, wrap it in plastic wrap and set it in a cool area or in the refrigerator for at least 3 days and up to 1 month. Dust with confectioners' sugar before serving.