Christmas Fruitcake - The Misunderstood Holiday Tradition That Deserves Appreciation
I proudly admit it; I adore fruitcake during the holiday season. But like many things, it was a taste acquired as an adult. My mother used to bake them every year and give them out to family and friends. Although I cannot distinctly remember how hers tasted, I do remember I was not fond of it. Like many, hers was too dry and too "cakey." A good fruitcake should never be dry, and the "cake" part of the batter, if done right, is more like a glue that holds the fruits and nuts together. Several years ago I was in the grocery store and came upon a display of Claxton fruitcakes. They are the best, by the way, at least ones you can purchase in a store. If you think you want to give fruitcake a try, get one of these first. I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed this confection, especially given the considerably bad reputation it has, and all of the jokes made about them over the years. I found that fruitcake tasted well, like Christmas. Perhaps the disdain in America is a cultural thing. America wants their sweets to be ridiculously sugar-laden and artificial. Fruitcake, although definitely sugar-laden, is a different kind of "sweet," and I don't think it agrees with many an American taste bud. England, where fruitcake is better understood and respected, is more embracing of this holiday tradition, and not just during the holiday season. Royal weddings, dating back to Queen Victoria, found fruitcake used as the wedding cake. Queen Elizabeth II's towering wedding cake was comprised of fruitcake, as was William and Kate's.
One of the best holiday stories and films I have read and watched is Truman Capote’s “A Christmas Memory.” Set in 1930’s impoverished, Depression-era Alabama, the story is an autobiographical account of Truman’s own childhood and a favorite Christmas he shared with his elderly cousin, Sook. Her after-Thanksgiving ritual was to bake fruitcakes and send them to strangers she admires, even the President; extremely shy with a childlike innocence, the elderly woman, who calls Truman “Buddy,” embark on a four day baking spree, sneaking into a neighbors pecan grove to gather pecans, scrounging up every last dime they have to ingredients, and even braving the local seedy speakeasy for a bottle of then-illegal whiskey for the cakes.
Next year, I plan on baking one myself, hoping to find just the perfect recipe to use. For me, there is nothing better than a little slice of fruitcake on Christmas Eve with a glass of egg nog.
Go ahead. Give fruitcake another try!
I proudly admit it; I adore fruitcake during the holiday season. But like many things, it was a taste acquired as an adult. My mother used to bake them every year and give them out to family and friends. Although I cannot distinctly remember how hers tasted, I do remember I was not fond of it. Like many, hers was too dry and too "cakey." A good fruitcake should never be dry, and the "cake" part of the batter, if done right, is more like a glue that holds the fruits and nuts together. Several years ago I was in the grocery store and came upon a display of Claxton fruitcakes. They are the best, by the way, at least ones you can purchase in a store. If you think you want to give fruitcake a try, get one of these first. I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed this confection, especially given the considerably bad reputation it has, and all of the jokes made about them over the years. I found that fruitcake tasted well, like Christmas. Perhaps the disdain in America is a cultural thing. America wants their sweets to be ridiculously sugar-laden and artificial. Fruitcake, although definitely sugar-laden, is a different kind of "sweet," and I don't think it agrees with many an American taste bud. England, where fruitcake is better understood and respected, is more embracing of this holiday tradition, and not just during the holiday season. Royal weddings, dating back to Queen Victoria, found fruitcake used as the wedding cake. Queen Elizabeth II's towering wedding cake was comprised of fruitcake, as was William and Kate's.
One of the best holiday stories and films I have read and watched is Truman Capote’s “A Christmas Memory.” Set in 1930’s impoverished, Depression-era Alabama, the story is an autobiographical account of Truman’s own childhood and a favorite Christmas he shared with his elderly cousin, Sook. Her after-Thanksgiving ritual was to bake fruitcakes and send them to strangers she admires, even the President; extremely shy with a childlike innocence, the elderly woman, who calls Truman “Buddy,” embark on a four day baking spree, sneaking into a neighbors pecan grove to gather pecans, scrounging up every last dime they have to ingredients, and even braving the local seedy speakeasy for a bottle of then-illegal whiskey for the cakes.
Next year, I plan on baking one myself, hoping to find just the perfect recipe to use. For me, there is nothing better than a little slice of fruitcake on Christmas Eve with a glass of egg nog.
Go ahead. Give fruitcake another try!
