The Town That Gave Rise to Panettone

Nicola Fiasconaro deftly lifts a pliable mass of panettone dough from a conveyor belt, placing it on a stainless steel table to shape the rich, fruit-filled mixture into a flawless round. The legendary pastry chef makes this intricate task appear effortless, despite the dough's notorious difficulty. Fiasconaro, who prefers not to disclose his age, has dedicated over 30 years to crafting artisan, naturally leavened Sicilian panettone, beginning his journey in his father’s Sicilian bakery where he also offered classic Southern treats like cannoli and cassata. He has baked panettone for not one, not two, but three different popes and could likely do it with his eyes closed.

This Italian bread is lavishly enriched with an abundance of butter, eggs, and fruit, giving the unbaked dough a glossy, loose, and somewhat fluid texture, manageable only thanks to the sturdy high-gluten flour that forms its foundation. The dough ball on the steel table is simultaneously stretchy like taffy and fluid like honey, but Fiasconaro quickly shapes it, folding it in from all sides. Once he finishes, he gently places the dough seam-side down into its paper case, ready for a day of proofing before it heads to the oven. It will join thousands of others, rising in a warm, spa-like environment in another room.

In September at the Fiasconaro factory in Castelbuono, Sicily, even months before panettone graces holiday tables around the world, every loaf is already accounted for. Giant tubs lined along the mixing room brim with yellow, web-like dough, ready to be infused with candied orange, chocolate, hazelnuts, and apricots. On a slower production day, Agata Fiasconaro — Nicola’s daughter and the company’s head of communications — mentions that the bakery can whip up 12,000 kilograms, or about 26,000 pounds, of dough. During the holiday rush, that figure skyrockets to 16,000 kilograms, or 35,000 pounds, daily. With 10 ovens at their disposal, Fiasconaro can bake over 1,200 one-kilogram panettoni in a single batch.

Perched on a hill overlooking the heart of Castelbuono, a charming 14th-century village nestled within Sicily’s mountainous Madonie National Park, the factory draws tourists who explore both the park and Castelbuono Castle. However, the bakery has become a destination in its own right, with the sweet aroma of sugar wafting through the town.

Out of the village’s 9,000 residents, 180 are employed at the factory, accounting for about 2 percent of the local population. Together, they create over a dozen varieties of panettone in various sizes, distributing Fiasconaro’s Sicilian panettoni to 60 countries.

'Every step is handcrafted from start to finish,' explains Agata Fiasconaro. 'With each passing year, our panettone production increases as we expand our global reach. We invest in more ovens, mixers, and staff. Our products are backed by real people.' Castelbuono locals work in the mixing room, the cooling area where completed panettoni hang upside down like plump bats, and the packaging room where every holiday panettone is hand-wrapped. While machines handle the bulk of the heavy lifting — mixing, dividing, and shaping massive quantities of dough — human oversight and intervention are crucial at every stage. Nicola, his son Mario, and a select few employees care for the 70-year-old sourdough starter (known as lievito madre) that forms the essence of every Fiasconaro panettone. Their dedication to preserving this craft is as palpable as the enticing scent of sweet bread.

When Mario Fiasconaro founded Fiasconaro Bakery in 1953, Northern cities like Milan were celebrated for their enriched, fruit-filled breads. His three sons — Nicola, Fausto, and Martino — grew up learning the craft under their father's guidance, eventually taking on various roles in the family business: Nicola focused on baking, Fausto became the showroom manager, and Martino took charge of administration. In the late '80s, Nicola developed a passion for natural leavening and panettone, introducing this sweet bread to the bakery. He envisioned a Sicilian interpretation rather than simply imitating the Northern original, utilizing local ingredients and showcasing Sicilian artisans.

Three decades (and three popes) later, Fiasconaro has gained global recognition for its panettone crafted in the Sicilian tradition. “We prioritize high-quality raw materials sourced from Sicily,” says Agata Fiasconaro. “We choose only what our land offers.” Fiasconaro distinguishes itself from Northern competitors with panettone featuring Sicilian strawberry jam, Modica chocolate spread, and locally grown pistachios, oranges, apricots, and almonds.

One of the standout ingredients at Fiasconaro is manna, a resin tapped from ash trees in the Madonie Mountains near Castelbuono. This natural sweetener is featured in a special panettone known as oro di manna, or golden manna. Finished with a creamy topping made from the same resin, this decadent variant is particularly favored during the holiday season. Agata Fiasconaro explains why they don't use manna as the sole sweetener in all their panettone: “We introduced manna to minimize chemical sugars, but we can’t rely solely on it due to its laxative effects.” The flavor of manna is reminiscent of caramel or maple candy, forming on the trees like white, jagged stalactites affectionately dubbed cannolis by the farmers.

Crafting authentic panettone, rooted in tradition, demands several days. Fiasconaro requires three full days to produce its naturally leavened panettone. “In industrial processes, the panettone skips the resting period. After baking, it goes straight into the bag, and that’s it,” Nicola explains in the cooling room, where the panettoni dangle upside down for a minimum of eight hours. “This process subjects the panettone to stress and trauma, causing high temperatures to enter the bag immediately.” This results in dryness, poor texture, and an overall unpleasant taste — contributing to panettone’s negative reputation, particularly in the U.S.

While Agata insists that no one takes him seriously, Nicola claims that his days of championing panettone traditions are numbered. This year, he plans to retire and hand over the bakery’s operations to his son Mario, a talented pastry chef, ensuring that the legacy started by his father 70 years ago continues. “He wants his children to carry on his dream,” Agata shares. So what will Nicola do once he steps away from baking? He hopes to spend more time traveling and immersing himself in art. Although it won’t be too different from his current life in Castelbuono, surrounded by a different form of art, he will enjoy a more leisurely role while others manage the craft.

Dayna Evans is a writer and baker residing in Philadelphia, where she serves as the head baker at Downtime Bakery.