Tartine's Panforte with Candied Quince

It is a lot, I know, to expect you - in this mad December rush - to slow down and candy your own quince. Forgive me, will you? It's just that I believe in you! I know you can do it. I know you can find the time. And furthermore, I know it'll be worth it.

Besides, candying quince isn't even all that hard. In fact, I think tracking down the quince is the hardest part (well, that and trying to core it, but never mind). You should also candy your own orange peel, if you can't find any at the grocery store (one of the charms of living in Germany: chopped candied orange peel at any old grocery store). But that's even easier than candying quince. Promise. Cross my heart!

See, what we're making is panforte. Strong bread, if you want to know the literal translation. But what panforte really is is a deep, dark nut-and-fruit confection, warm with spice, the low, sweet chew of dried plums and candied quince, all wrapped up in a cocoa-tinged, citrus-peel-flecked, honeyed batter and baked until almost black.

It's a lot of work, it's true. But what you get in return will sustain you, I promise. If the Benne Wafers were the instant gratification cookie of the holiday season, this panforte is the long, slow, steady burn.

Panforte is a traditional Italian sweet meat, cut into thin little wedges (you'll need a very sharp, very heavy knife - it's dense) and served after dinner around Christmastime. It's chewy and crunchy, not too sweet and keeps for weeks, if well-wrapped. So the way I see it, it makes for pretty great presents, if you can bear to part with what you've made. All you need is willpower, parchment paper and a bit of butcher's twine for artful wrapping and bows, and you'll have yourself some very grateful friends.

I love how panforte is both restrained and a little luxe. It's the kind of dessert that makes you feel virtuous, after all that roast goose, and elegant, with nut-studded blackish wedges lying insouciantly on little gold-rimmed plates.

Pardon all the wonky light in these photos, but we've not had much sun in Berlin these past few weeks. In fact, it hasn't done much else but snow lately, giving everything in my kitchen a rather blueish hue. But the heavy gray lid over the city doesn't feel as oppressive as it will in a few months. Right now, it's kind of cozy. We gather indoors with friends, drink tea, crunch through homemade cookies, light candles, and prepare for the holidays. In a few months, the lack of light will feel interminable. Today, it feels just right.

It's better for baking, anyway, when the sun isn't shining and you have every right to wile away the day in your kitchen.

There's little that's complicated about making panforte. In fact, other than good ingredients, you just need to be able to work quickly at crucial moments and have a little bit of muscle in your upper arms, a little bit of elbow grease.

Besides the candied quince and orange peel, you need a nice assortment of dried fruit. The original recipe, from the first Tartine cookbook, calls for dates, but says that you can use any type of dried fruit, just as long as the total amount is about 25 ounces. Since I have a burning love for prunes (and think their bright, juicy flavor works particularly well with cocoa and citrus zest), I used equal amounts of dates and prunes, plus a bunch of raisins instead of the original currants (one of the few dried fruits I really just don't dig, with their weird crunchy little selves).

You also need a whole bunch of toasted nuts - pistachios, hazelnuts and almonds - which bump this firmly into luxury territory, but it's affordable luxury, I think. The kind I can get behind.

After you toast the nuts and dice up all the fruit and zest the citrus, you toss this all with flour and cocoa and a whole mess of spices, including ground coriander, black pepper and what seems like an enormous amount of nutmeg.

To make the syrup that will bind these dusty nuggets together, you melt together sugar and honey until they bubble and froth without boiling over. Here's a good look at how the syrup should look when you're ready to pull it off the stove. And this is where you need to work quickly. The syrup, boiling hot, will hit the nuts and fruit and then, in a heartbeat, turn to what feels like hot tar. Arm yourselves, therefore, either with plastic gloves or a very heavy-duty plastic spatula and move quickly. Mix the syrup into the fruit and nuts well, moistening every last bit and making sure that no powdery streak of flour remains. If you do this well, you can skip your weight-bearing exercises for the day! Up and at 'em, folks.

Then scrape this mixture, fragrant and nubby and far too hot for dipping a finger in and tasting, into a parchment-lined springform pan and bake it in the oven until set. What's difficult at this point is not over-baking the panforte. Since the batter is so dark to begin with, it's hard to tell if it's starting to burn. Trust your nose, your oven thermometer and the kitchen timer.

This brick-like confection will cool and settle and then you can unmold it from its baking pan and cover it with a snow-like dusting of confectioner's sugar before cutting it into wedges and parceling them up. You will find yourself sneaking little tastes here and there, little nibs and nobs of the panforte that get nicked under your knife, trying to track down each individual flavor but becoming overwhelmed by the goodness of the whole. You'll cut a wedge to keep for yourself and then, later, you'll curse yourself for not making it a bigger one. Your mouth will tingle with spice.

As you can tell, I've fallen hard for this panforte. I'll be making it for many Christmases to come. Do you what to know just how hard I've fallen? So hard that I'm throwing in the towel on the cookie production for the year. Nothing's going to top this baby.

So, like I said, get to finding that quince! Time's a-wasting.

Panforte with Candied Quince
Makes 32 half-inch slices
Note: You can use any type of dried or candied fruit, in any combination, as a substitute for the fruits in the recipe as long as the total amount is about 4 1/2 cups (25 ounces).

Candied orange zest
3 large, unblemished oranges
1 1/2 cups water
1 1/2 cups sugar

1. Remove the zest from the oranges: Run a zester from the top to bottom of the orange, cutting the zest into thin strips (avoid the pith). Repeat with the remaining fruit. Reserve fruit for another use.

2. In a medium, heavy saucepan, cook the water and sugar over medium heat. Bring to a boil, stirring, until the sugar dissolves. Add the zest, lower the heat to medium-low, and cook at a gentle simmer until the zest strips become tender and semi-translucent, about 30 minutes.

3. Remove from the heat and pour into a heat-proof container. Cool completely, then store the zest in the cooking syrup in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 1 month. You should have about one-half cup (3 ounces) of candied zest.

Candied quince
1 1/2 cups water
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 large quince

1. Peel the quince, slice it in half, remove the core and cut the fruit crosswise into one-fourth-inch slices.

2. In a medium, heavy saucepan, combine the water and sugar over medium heat, stirring with a spoon, until the sugar dissolves. Add the fruit, reduce the heat to medium-low, and cook at a gentle simmer until the fruit is semi-translucent, about 45 minutes.

3. Remove from the heat and pour into a heat-proof container. Cool, then store the fruit in the cooking syrup in an airtight container in the refrigerator. You'll have about 1 cup (8 ounces) of fruit.

Panforte
1 recipe candied quince, strained and coarsely chopped (8 ounces)
1 recipe candied orange zest, strained and coarsely chopped (3 ounces)
1 cup dates, pitted and coarsely chopped (5 ounces)
1 cup prunes, pitted and coarsely chopped (5 ounces)
3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons Zante currants (4 ounces)
2 tablespoons grated orange zest
1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
1 cup lightly toasted unsalted pistachios
2 cups well-toasted hazelnuts
2 cups well-toasted almonds
2/3 cup flour
1/2 cup cocoa powder
1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
Freshly grated nutmeg from 1 1/2 nutmegs
3/4 teaspoon ground coriander
3/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
3/4 teaspoon ground cloves
3/4 cup honey
1 1/3 cups granulated sugar
1/4 cup powdered sugar

1. Heat the oven to 325 degrees. Butter a 10-inch springform pan with 2- or 3-inch sides, line with parchment paper, and butter the parchment, making sure to butter the sides of the pan well.

2. In a large mixing bowl, combine the candied quince and orange zest, dates, currants, orange and lemon zest, and all of the nuts. Sift together the flour, cocoa powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, coriander, pepper and cloves over the fruits and nuts. Mix well. Set aside.

3. In a deep, heavy saucepan, combine the honey and granulated sugar over medium-high heat. Stir gently with a wooden spoon from time to time to make sure that no sugar is sticking to the bottom of the pan. Bring to a boil and cook until the mixture registers 250 degrees on a thermometer, about 3 minutes. The mixture will be frothy and boiling rapidly.

4. Remove from the heat and immediately pour over the fruit-and-flour mixture in the bowl. Stir with a wooden spoon to incorporate the syrup thoroughly with the other ingredients. The mixture may seem dry at first, but it will come together once it is well mixed. (If you have rubber gloves, it is easier to mix with your hands than with a spoon.) Work quickly at this point; the longer the mixture sits, the firmer it becomes.

5. Transfer the mixture to the prepared springform pan and smooth the top with a rubber spatula dipped in water. Bake until the top is slightly puffed and looks like a brownie, about 1 hour. Cool in the pan on a wire rack for 30 minutes. Run a knife around the edge to loosen and turn out of the pan and cool completely.

6. With a fine-mesh sieve, sift the powdered sugar over the top, bottom and sides of the panforte. Lightly tap it over the counter to shake off excess sugar. It will keep, well wrapped, in a cool, dry place for up to 2 weeks, or indefinitely in the refrigerator. To serve, slice into quarter- to half-inch slices.

Comments

[Merle]

Oh my, it sounds like a long process - not difficult, but long! And I'd like to try it...maybe during that week between Christmas and New Year, as it looks so good!
Do you have a substitution for the quince? I'm not going to knock myself out looking for it.

[Alyssa]

I wonder if you could use quince paste, that you've chopped up, instead of the candied quince...

[Victoria]

You are a temptress. This looks delicious. I agree with Merle; for me it will have to be the week between Christmas and New Year's.

I bet I can grow quince upstate since my apple tree does so well. Will have to look into that.

Happy hols.

[Victoria]

P.S. I LOVE the banner picture.

Please tell us about the flatware.

[stacey snacks]

Panforte is my favorite treat! I wait till the holidays when the shipment comes in from Siena, then buy a dozen of them!
I made it last year w/ Nick Malgieri's recipe and it came out perfect. I made my own peel (a chore), but worth it.
Happy Holidays.
Stacey

[Same Length Pinkies]

I've been lacking a kitchen in which to bake and cook for four months now and am looking for ways to spend hours making up for this in my parents' kitchen around Christmas. Perfect!

[Vanessa]

I've never had panforte but as I love all things Ialian, I think this will be the start of something good. The first picture especially is to die for and enough to make me take a whole afternoon off to make my own. I haven't seen any quince in my part of Berlin for a while but will be on the lookout when I head west on Monday.

[Luisa]

Merle, Alyssa, Victoria - quince paste is a good idea, but it should be quite firm as otherwise, it'd just disintegrate during the hot-honey-mixing stage.

Victoria - it was my great-grandmother's.

[Naomi]

I spent all day looking for good candied fruit and came home empty handed. Then I read this. I happened to have a quince sitting in my fruit basket and an hour later I have candied quince for my dad's fruitcake this year! Hurrah! I used a grapefruit spoon to dig the core out of the quince which worked remarkably well.

[Christina]

I think your pictures are lovely.... I wish I could get mine to turn out so nice without natural sunlight! I love the idea of panforte, but have never made it. Maybe this year. Thank you for another inspiring recipe.

[Katie@Cozydelicious]

I might have to file this one away for a rainy day... a whole rainy day. But it looks fantastic. I am very tempted by the quince...

[rachel]

Lucia, do you think it would be easy to figure out a way to mold them into more individual rounds? The baking time would be less of course, but it just seems like for gifts having them whole would be nicer? I'm sure it would be appreciated regardless!

[Molly]

Oh, you brave girl, you!

I made panforte last year, for the first time, Alice Medrich's from Pure Dessert. And yes, I fell HARD. It is so weird and wonderful with coffee for breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner. Or whatever. Oh my, it was good.

And to think, I was ogling Tartine's just this morning. I won't get to it this year, but next year, oh, yes...

[Lindsey]

As soon as finals are over, I'm all over this! Kudos to you on the lovely presentation; those nuts look like jewels!

[Sylee]

Oh, I meant to ask you about this after you mentioning your simmering quince! Now off to candy my own (perhaps to add to some teabread?).

[Foodieinberlin]

Looks gorgeous. Need to try this next year instead of Christmas cookies.

[Jess]

I've had this recipe marked for a while. This might be the year. Panforte aside, goose! How was it?

[Kathleen]

Oh yum! If you want to cut it into wedges to give as gifts do you recommend coating the cut edges with powdered sugar as well?

[Luisa]

Rachel - it's Luisa, not Lucia! :) Anyway, if you want to make the panforte into individual cakes, I'd suggest you get people to help you. By the time you're done scraping the batter into 4 mini cake pans by yourself, it'll be too cool and too hard to press into the pan.

Jess - the goose was fantastic! It'll be in the book. Despite the terror, in the end, it was all worth it. :)

Kathleen - that seems a little fussy to me. I'd leave them as is.

[the purcells]

this looks like so much fun to make and right up my alley!! perfect for holiday baking, which is one of my favorite parts of the season.

[Nisrine]

I remember my mom candying quince when I was a child but she never added nuts. This would make a wonderful gift!

[Anna Johnston]

Oh yes, Panforte is glorious. I have never candied quince, so it'll be fun to try that out.

[retro sweets]

If I know how to make panforte as expertly as you do then I would have the perfect Christmas gift to friends. It's given that this recipe is delicious but it also looks pretty like a jeweled cake or something. :D

[IrvingWashington]

I can't believe it! A couple of months ago I was flailing about trying to find new things to do with quince - my mother forced a huge bag onto me in October.

The panforte looks delicious, I'll be going back to the parents next year so I can give this a go.

http://hungerandsauce.blogspot.com/2010/10/quince-with-everything.html

[Nuts about food]

I am impressed that you made your own panforte, and even more that you candied a quince. Tanto di cappello cara!

[fatma baysal]

This looks delicious.

I bet I can grow quince upstate since my apple tree does so well. Will have to look into that.

I happened to have a quince sitting in my fruit basket and an hour later I have candied quince for my dad's fruitcake this year;)

[Kimberley]

Every time a recipe from one of Tartine's books is mentioned, I feel rather smug because the place is so close to me. But the image of this panforte makes me actually curious about it - eating it if not making it myself, because that gorgeous winter light in the first image is just perfect.

[Rose-Anne]

No more cookies?!? Holy smokes. The cookies had you smitten.

This post is glorious! I love your enthusiasm.

[Ellen Kaye]

Thank you so much for sharing this cooking journey with us. I have adored panforte ever since I had my first taste of one at Balducci's in New York so many years ago. There is something about the texture, the just-enough sweetness of the dried fruit and that lovely confectionary coating that just screams "holiday". What a vicarious thrill to enjoy your freshly-made delight with you! Will have to put this one on the never-ending "I have to make that" list! Wishing you happy holidays.
www.blackcoffeeandtoast.com

[Beth]

I immediately forwarded to my boyfriend for a project. He's out buying the nuts now :) a little bit of investment for this one, compared to the benne wafers...hope it flies!!!! If anyone has any tips, please pass them on!!!

[Nicoletta]

Beautiful. And wonderful to eat and to give away. I'd only avoid using a plastic spatula because it would melt in the hot "tar". I usually give my cooking "students" a thick wooden spoon to mix it well. :) Ciao!

[Luisa]

Nicoletta - that'd have to be a pretty flimsy spatula... I used this one and it stood up just fine: http://www.amazon.com/Rubbermaid-Professional-2-Inch-Heat-Resistant-Scraper/dp/B0000CFO2Y/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1292666430&sr=8-1

[jo]

Luisa - I am faklempt I made this and used up that lonely quince! Indeed, quite a workout. We had it with an early taste of our sour cherry liquor... v tasty combo. Wondering: it's quite moist - and hard to cut neat thin slices. Do you think I undercooked it, didn't let it cool long enough (2hours) or will it firm up a bit over the next couple of days?

[Winstrol]

That is a great recipe and the pictures are mmm.
Winston Rolbacher

[rach]

Wonderful.

[Clara]

Great info here. I hope that everyone has a fantastic holiday season!

[Luisa]

Jo - it's really hard for me to say where you went wrong. I would definitely let the panforte cool for longer than 2 hours, though, before you dig in. I waited 24 hours. It needs to be completely cooled.