A Sicilian Dove and a Table of My Own: Fiasconaro Colomba and Easter Traditions

Article by: Janna Tamargo | Photography by Janna Tamargo | Published April 17, 2025

The first time I tasted the Fiasconaro Colomba Classica, I wasn’t in Sicily. I wasn’t even in Italy. I was standing in my kitchen in Florida, thousands of miles away, unboxing the dove-shaped cake at the table with my family. As I anxiously watched my father unwrap the delicacy, the scent of Sicilian orange filled the room. Almonds cracked gently under my knife. The crumb was soft, fragrant, almost cloud-like. Sweet, but not cloying like a lot of American desserts. Luxurious, but deeply familiar.

This was no ordinary Easter cake.

Colomba: A Symbol of Peace, A Ritual of Spring

Italy’s Colomba di Pasqua, or, stateside, Easter dove cake, is part of a trinity of holiday breads alongside panettone and pandoro. But unlike those confections that have become part of winter traditions for some, the Colomba belongs to spring. Shaped like a dove, it symbolizes peace and renewal, which seems very fitting for the season of rebirth.

Traditionally, this bread is made with a slow-rise yeast dough enriched with butter, eggs, sugar, and candied peel. The Colomba is topped with pearl sugar and almonds for a satisfying crunch and baked in a cross-shaped mold that evokes a flying dove.

But Fiasconaro’s version? It’s in a class of its own.

Fiasconaro: A Family Legacy in the Madonie Mountains

Founded in the 1950s in Castelbuono, a medieval town in the heart of Sicily, Fiasconaro is a family-run bakery known for its craftsmanship and patience. Their Colomba Classica isn’t rushed. It rises naturally over 36 hours. The ingredients include Sicilian citrus, Italian flour, local honey and are sourced with the kind of care that doesn’t cut corners. 

When you taste a Fiasconaro Colomba, you’re not just eating cake; you’re tasting time.

That slowness resonates with me. Maybe because, like many of us, I spend most of the year moving quickly, racing between work, family, and whatever passes for rest. But come Easter, I slow down. I look for signs of the season. And I reach for the foods that anchor me to something more profound. 

Last year, I treated myself to a truly special Colomba: Fiasconaro’s Colomba Classica, created in collaboration with Dolce & Gabbana. It wasn’t just a cake; it was an experience. It came nestled in a stunning blue-and-white tin, designed in true D&G fashion; ornate, bold, and unmistakably Sicilian. It felt like unwrapping a keepsake, not just a seasonal dessert (of course, the tin still sits in my kitchen along with my other blue and white treasures), equal parts fashion statement, and culinary treasure. This is just a sweet reminder of how food can be both ephemeral and enduring.

My Easter Table: A Patchwork of Places

Growing up, Easter was a beautiful blend of my heritage. When we visited my mom’s Polish family, we had kielbasa, Polish Beet Salad (Surówka z Buraczków), and rye bread. From my dad’s Italian side, there was always some pasta.

Some years, we gathered with a full house of aunts, uncles, and cousins, dying eggs and ruining our Easter clothes. Other years, it was quieter, just my immediate family, maybe baking something new or warming up the Honey-Baked ham. Easter, for me, became a patchwork of borrowed and beloved traditions. But food, especially symbolic bread, was always a constant and at the center.

Now, as I shape my own rituals, the Colomba Classica has found a place on my table at Easter. When I cut into it, I can’t help but think about my great-great-grandparents who made the trip from Palermo to America. The soft crumbs tell their story as I tear off pieces by hand to share with friends or family. I love that the Colomba feels ceremonial without being rigid. Ornate but welcoming. It reminds me that traditions don’t always have to be strictly inherited; sometimes, they can be chosen, nurtured, and made one’s own.

When Eggs Are Scarce, Try a Dove

This year, with the price of eggs still high and shelves occasionally bare, many of us are rethinking how we bake, share, and celebrate. Traditional egg-heavy rituals might not feel as accessible. That’s where the Colomba comes in, no, not as a replacement, but as a reminder: traditions can evolve. Maybe it’s not about doing things exactly the way they’ve always been done, just maybe, it’s about honoring the meaning behind them. And sometimes, change opens the door to beauty we might’ve missed otherwise.

A store-bought, thoughtfully made Colomba like Fiasconaro’s offers the symbolism, sweetness, and spirit of celebration without the egg count or the labor. It can be a way to keep the season joyful, even when ingredients (or time or energy) are in short supply. For those far from ancestral homelands, brands like Fiasconaro don’t just sell sweets. They offer connections—a taste of something rooted, a link between memory and present moments.

In a world where authenticity is often reduced to aesthetics or gatekeeping, I find comfort in foods that feel both timeless and evolving. The Colomba Classica is precisely that: a centuries-old tradition, reinterpreted by a Sicilian family, embraced by someone like me, continents away.

It’s not just dessert. It’s a story you can eat.