things in it,” candied fruit, dried fruit, nuts, spices, a brandy soak, the kitchen sink...
My mother’s not satisfied with the rumination on holiday food I wrote a few weeks ago. “When I think of the holidays, I think of ham,” she suggests, hoping I will understand.
I understand. Decorative cookie recipes. Humble side dishes transformed into celebratory offerings. Stunning new holiday outfits for ordinary slabs of meat.
“Mom,” I remind her, “there’s a glut of magazines and web sites devoted to holiday recipes. Why should I duplicate them?”
“Well, yes.” She’s not conceding my point, rather her second daughter’s lifelong intractability.
There is one unique food that comes to mind when I think about the holidays. My mother’s fruitcake. Settling comfortably into your favorite chair, anticipating a good laugh? Sorry to disappoint you. I’m serious. My mother’s fruitcake is the best in the galaxy.
She’s been making fruitcake since, well, she can’t remember. She is equally vague about why, citing “all those good things in it,” candied fruit, dried fruit, nuts, spices, a brandy soak, the kitchen sink...
My mother’s fruitcake is stellar not only because it’s her recipe, nor because she gifts friends and family with it every year. It’s famous because people ask after it, can’t wait to get their teeth into it. Last year, when our activities superseded fruitcake making, the disappointment was palpable.
Several years ago it was featured as the groom’s cake at my best friend’s November wedding. Deborah had to fight the guests to stow the last piece as a first anniversary souvenir.
One year I shared a sliced loaf at work. The plate was clean by noon. A colleague asked to buy one for his family. “I don’t like fruitcake,” he assured me, “but your mother’s is delicious.”
I don’t like fruitcake, either. It’s the candied fruit. I like my mom’s, though, enough to eat a slice or two (picked clean of certain detestable fruits like maraschino cherries) spread with whipped cream, during the holidays.
I’m not going to avert my mother’s spotlight by publishing her recipe. My fantasy, for years, has been a dried fruit fruitcake. This year, I developed one:
| Mix together in large bowl: 21/2 cups white flour 1/2 cup wheat flour 1/4 wheat germ 2 tsp baking powder 1 tsp salt 2 tsp cinnamon 1/2 tsp allspice 1/2 tsp cloves 1/2 tsp nutmeg 1/2 tsp ginger |
Mix in separate bowl: 2 cups varied baking nuts, shelled, unchopped 11/4 cups dates, chopped in half 1/3 lb. golden raisins 1/3 lb. Turkish apricots, chopped in half 1/3 lb. dried cranberries 1/3 lb. lemon essence prunes, chopped in half 1/3 lb. dried cherries 1/3 lb. dried blueberries 1/3 lb. dried peaches, chopped in quarters |
Dredge fruit and nuts in dry ingredients.
| Beat 4 eggs until frothy.
Gradually add: 13/4 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar Blend in: 1 cup unsweetened fruit juice 1/4 cup molasses 3/4 cup melted butter, cooled |
Add the mixture to the left to flour/fruit mixture. Stir until well combined. The batter will appear to be overwhelmed with fruit. Prepare one 10” tube pan or 2-3 9” x 5” x 3” loaf pans: oil well and line with waxed paper. Fill pans 2/3 to 3/4 full with batter. Bake at 275° for 21/2 to 3 hours. A knife inserted into the middle will come out clean when it’s done. |
Cool thoroughly before removing the cake from the pans.
The cake will be hard, perfect for soaking. Wrap each cake in a clean, white cotton cloth. Sprinkle all over with fruit brandy or liqueur. Wrap in aluminum foil. Store in a cool, dark corner. Resoak every 2-3 days, for 4-6 weeks. Soak conservatively. My father, impatient for edible fruitcake, once decided to soak a fruitcake in a week. He put one in a plastic bag and poured in half a bottle of brandy. The result looked liked pieces of liquor-soaked sponge floating in fruit mush. He didn’t eat it.
This is another one of those recipes that invites the chef to make it to taste.
There’s no reason, for instance, why you couldn’t use dried apples, dried pineapple, whatever you think would make this fruitcake work for you. Just make sure you don’t over extend the fruit. The combined total of all the fruit and nuts listed above (21/3 lbs. + 1 1/4 cups dates + 2 cups nuts) is about all this cake can handle; although, you could use less fruit and nuts. Regardless, the cake is designed to bake up hard, so that it doesn’t fall apart during soaking.
I’m munching the first slice right now, as I finish this column. It’s choice, a fruitcake for people who hate candied fruit. When I wish upon stars, this is one of the things I wish for. You too?
| Text, Recipes & Graphics ©2000 by Gail Rae Hudson | Background Provided by
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