Wednesday, December 11, 2013


You know I have a crush on marzipan. Everywhere and in anything, but no place better than in bread. It's like that first dip of your foot into a hot tub in the winter in which it just so happens bathing in a weensie European bathing suit is John Malkovitch. Come on. Know that I mean?

Bread and marzipan is the happy union of two of my favorite things, and the Germans, my people on my mother's side, have done it for centuries at Christmastime.

You slice through the dense-ish candied fruit studded panettone-like loaf and there -- Lo! -- is a heartlight of almond paste. Toast it and butter it, and I almost almost don't care that John Malkovitch has no idea I exist.