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Desserts

Classic Panettone

Classic Panettone

Panettone is the hardest thing on this site, and I’d rather say that in the first line than let you find out at 11pm with a dough that won’t come together. It runs across a full day, the dough is wetter and stickier than anything else you’ve kneaded, and the finished loaf has to hang upside down while it cools or it sinks under its own weight.

None of that makes it impossible at home. It does mean you should read the whole thing before you start, because the failures nearly all happen at points where you can’t go back.

How Long This Actually Takes

Roughly 12 hours from first mix to a loaf you can cut, of which about 55 minutes is active work. Everything else is waiting.

Stage Hands-on Waiting
Mixing and kneading 25 min
First rise 5 min 2-3 hr
Shaping into the mold 10 min
Second rise 5 min 2-3 hr
Bake 5 min 35-40 min
Upside-down cool 10 min 1 hr minimum, 4 hr better

Start at 8am and you’re cutting it after dinner. There is no version of this that fits into an evening, and anyone telling you otherwise has quietly dropped a proof.

Worth knowing what this recipe is not. A Milanese bakery panettone uses a stiff natural starter called lievito madre and runs two separate doughs across 36 to 72 hours. That version keeps for weeks and carries a faint sourness under the sweetness. This is the commercial-yeast, single-dough, one-day loaf: very good for four or five days, then properly stale. Right trade for a first attempt.

Why the Crumb Pulls Apart in Shreds

Tear a good panettone and it comes apart in long strands rather than crumbs, like pulling threads out of a cloth. That texture comes from one decision: adding the butter slowly, after the gluten has already formed.

Fat coats proteins. Dump 3/4 cup of softened butter into flour and water at the start and it wraps around the glutenin and gliadin before they can link up, so you never get a network. You get something closer to cake. Add the butter a few tablespoons at a time over 8 to 10 minutes, waiting for each addition to disappear before the next goes in, and the gluten sheets form first. The fat then slides between those sheets and lets them stretch past each other instead of tearing. Sheets that slide are what you’re pulling apart when you tear the loaf.

Bread flour matters for the same reason — you want the 12-13% protein, not the 10% in all-purpose.

The finished dough will be glossy, slack, and it will cling to your hands like something alive. It’s supposed to. This is where most home bakes die, because the instinct is to fix stickiness with flour. Every extra 1/4 cup is a drier loaf and you can’t take it back out.

Equipment You Genuinely Need

A stand mixer with a dough hook, and I mean it. I tried this by hand exactly once, spent 40 minutes with dough up to my forearms, and still didn’t get it to come together. Not equipment snobbery — it’s a dough with six eggs and a stick and a half of butter in it.

Beyond that: a paper panettone mold, 6 to 7 inches across and at least 4 inches tall, since the paper is structural and holds the sides as the dough climbs. Two long metal skewers. An instant-read thermometer, because 190°F in the center is the only reliable doneness test on a loaf this rich.

Ingredients

  • 3 3/4 cups bread flour — the higher protein is what gives panettone its structure
  • 1/2 cup granulated sugar — for sweetness and to help the crust brown
  • 2 1/4 teaspoons instant yeast — one standard packet
  • 1 teaspoon salt — balances the sweetness of the dough
  • 4 large eggs, room temperature — plus 2 extra yolks for richness
  • 3/4 cup warm milk — activates the yeast and softens the dough
  • 3/4 cup unsalted butter, softened — added gradually for a silky, enriched dough
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract — for warm background flavor
  • Zest of 1 orange and 1 lemon — brightens the whole loaf
  • 3/4 cup raisins — soaked in warm water or rum for 10 minutes, then drained
  • 1/2 cup candied orange or citrus peel — chopped into small pieces
  • 1 panettone paper mold or tall round pan — 6 to 7 inch diameter

Instructions

  1. In a stand mixer bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, yeast, and salt. In a separate bowl, whisk the eggs, egg yolks, warm milk, and vanilla until combined.
  2. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and mix with a dough hook on low speed until a shaggy dough forms, about 3 minutes.
  3. Increase speed slightly and add the softened butter a few tablespoons at a time, waiting until each addition is fully absorbed before adding more. Continue kneading for 10 to 12 minutes, until the dough is smooth, glossy, and pulls cleanly from the bowl.
  4. Add the orange and lemon zest, then gently knead in the drained raisins and candied peel by hand until evenly distributed throughout the dough.
  5. Shape the dough into a ball, place it in a lightly greased bowl, cover, and let rise in a warm spot until doubled, about 2 to 3 hours.
  6. Punch down the dough, reshape it into a tight ball, and place it into the panettone mold. Cover loosely and let it rise again until it reaches near the top of the mold, another 2 to 3 hours.
  7. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Just before baking, use a sharp knife or razor to score a shallow cross on top of the dough, and place a small piece of butter in the center if desired.
  8. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, tenting with foil if the top browns too quickly, until a skewer inserted into the center comes out clean and the internal temperature reads about 190°F.
  9. If you have long skewers, pierce the base of the panettone and hang it upside down to cool for at least 1 hour. This keeps the tall shape from collapsing as it cools.

Reading the Two Proofs

Aim for a proofing spot at 24-26°C and check it with an actual thermometer rather than guessing. Enriched dough is slow by nature — the sugar competes with the flour for water and the fat coats the yeast’s food supply — so below about 21°C this dough crawls, and a 3-hour rise turns into 5 or 6. Above 30°C the butter starts weeping out of the dough and the crumb bakes up greasy.

The old advice about an oven with the light on plus a mug of just-boiled water is decent, but check it. Mine ran to 31°C with a full mug, too warm; half a mug of hot tap water holds it around 26°C.

First proof: doubled, 2 to 3 hours. Second proof, in the mold: the dome should climb to within about 1 inch of the paper rim. Poke it with a floured finger — the dimple should spring back slowly and refill about halfway. Instantly, and it needs longer. Not at all, and you’ve gone too far.

Under-proofed panettone bakes up dense and tears open at the score. Over-proofed panettone rises beautifully for ten minutes and then collapses, leaving a big cavern under the crust. Of the two, err toward under.

The Upside-Down Cool, Explained

This is the bit that gets laughed at, and it’s the bit that decides whether your loaf keeps its height.

Straight out of the oven the crumb is soft, saturated with steam, and structurally plastic. The starch hasn’t set firm yet; that happens as it cools below roughly 60°C. A tall, light loaf standing upright puts the whole weight of its own crumb onto the bottom third while that structure is still soft, and the base compresses into something dense and slightly gummy. The loaf ends up shorter and heavier than it came out.

Hanging it inverted turns that load from compression into tension. The delicate crumb gets stretched slightly instead of squashed, and by the time it’s at room temperature the starch has set enough to hold the shape on its own.

Practically: push two long metal skewers through the paper mold and the loaf about 1 inch up from the base, crossing them, then rest the ends across a tall stockpot or between two chair backs so nothing touches the top. One hour minimum. I leave mine four. The December I couldn’t be bothered, the loaf lost around 3 cm of height as it sat and the bottom ate heavy.

What a Home Baker Can Skip

Plenty. Much of the traditional method exists for shelf life in a shop, not for a loaf you’ll eat this week.

  • The natural starter. Biggest time saving of all — commercial yeast gets you there in one day instead of three. You lose some keeping quality and that faint sour note underneath.
  • The two-dough method. A single dough with a long, well-developed knead does fine at this scale.
  • The candied peel. Swap it for an equal weight of chopped dried apricot, or chocolate chips. If you use chips, wait until the dough has cooled to around 18°C or they’ll smear grey streaks through it.
  • The butter knob in the score. Purely for looks and a slightly crisper cross.

What you cannot skip: adding the butter slowly, the paper mold, the thermometer, and the inverted cool. Skip any of those four and you’ve made a sweet bread, not a panettone. If you want a genuinely easier enriched dough to build the skill first, soft dinner rolls use the same butter-in-stages logic on a two-hour timeline, and butter croissants teach you what a properly rested dough feels like.

The Five Points Where It Usually Fails

  • Butter added all at once. Cake-like crumb, no shred. Unfixable once it’s mixed.
  • Extra flour to fight the stickiness. The single most common cause of a dry panettone.
  • Second proof cut short. Usually because people get impatient at hour two. The dome must climb to within an inch of the rim.
  • Top burns before the middle cooks. The sugar and egg brown fast. Tent with foil at around the 25-minute mark and keep baking to 190°F internal.
  • Cooled the right way up. Costs you height and gives you a dense base.

Notice that four of those five happen in stages where the dough looks fine at the time. That’s what makes this bake hard — it doesn’t warn you.

Keeping It Soft for a Week

Wrap it only once it is fully, properly cool, several hours after baking. Wrap it warm and the trapped steam turns the crust leathery overnight. The paper mold plus a large bag, or a double layer of cling film, is enough.

At room temperature this yeasted version holds 4 to 5 days. Don’t fridge it — bread stales fastest at around 4°C, faster than on the counter. For longer, cut it into wedges, wrap individually, and freeze up to 2 months; a frozen wedge thaws in about 40 minutes.

From day four onward it stops being great sliced plain and starts being excellent toasted in butter, or torn up into bread pudding, where the candied peel and citrus zest do a lot of work. I now bake it partly for the pudding.

Questions I Get Asked Every December

Can I use all-purpose flour?

You can, and the loaf will taste right but shred less. If you have vital wheat gluten, adding 1 tablespoon per cup of flour closes most of the gap.

Can I halve the recipe?

Yes. Use a 5-inch mold, keep every time and temperature the same except the bake, which drops to about 28-32 minutes. Still take it to 190°F internal.

Why did mine come out dry?

Almost always extra flour during kneading, or overbaking. Past about 195°F internal the crumb starts drying quickly, and the residual heat keeps working after it leaves the oven.

Do the raisins have to soak in rum?

No. Warm water or orange juice for 10 minutes plumps them just as well, and nothing about the loaf needs alcohol. The soak matters because dry raisins pull moisture out of the crumb around them as it bakes.

Can I do the first rise overnight in the fridge?

Yes, and this is how I make it work around a working day. After kneading, cover and refrigerate at about 4°C for 12 to 14 hours, then let the dough sit out for an hour to come back to room temperature before you shape it. Cold dough going into the mold adds an hour or more to the second proof and it’s easy to misread that as a failed rise. Give it the hour on the counter and you’ll save yourself the panic. If you’d rather practise the overnight-fridge trick on something cheaper first, sourdough is the obvious place.