It's What Is on the Inside that Counts

Buddy, it's fruitcake weather!

-  "A Christmas Memory" by Truman Capote

Growing up I was subjected to dozens of my mother's momalies – you know those irritating sayings that every mother tells her children over and over in the hopes that they might actually take heed of them. Among my mother's most often repeated:

• If you want to fight, go join the army.
• Smile and the whole world smiles with you; frown and you frown alone.
• Pretty is as pretty does.
• It's what is on the inside that counts. 

It seems to me that this last one has some merit – especially as it applies to people and fruitcakes, and maybe even to people who are fruitcakes. 

I'm convinced that if you asked 100 people if they like fruitcakes, 99 percent of them would say "no." If you asked them if they have every actually tasted a fruitcake, 99 percent of them would say "no" to that question as well. 

This Christmas season, I challenge you to give fruitcakes a chance. It helps if you can find a homemade one (baked in the fourth quarter of 2011) and if you know what is in it. Here's the ingredient list from the recipe that I've made every year since 1983:

golden raisins

dark raisins

candied cherries

chopped dates

chopped prunes

chopped dried apricots

chopped mixed candied peel

freshly grated lemon rind

freshly grated orange rind

fresh lemon juice

fresh orange juice

green apple, peeled, cored and diced

whiskey

Drambuie

unsalted butter 

sugar

eggs

slivered almonds, ground

all-purpose flour

freshly grated nutmeg

cinnamon

salt

If you go down the list, you may find, as I do, that you actually like all the ingredients (except perhaps the bright red cherries that always remind me of Shirley Temple drinks).  A bunch of dried fruit, a jigger of whiskey, a splash of Drambuie, and enough eggs, butter, sugar and flour to barely hold it together: What's not to like?

I spent the morning making fruitcakes, a holiday tradition. Can I serve you a slice?

Here's the second part of your assignment: Find a copy of Truman Capote's "A Christmas Memory." Slice a piece of fruitcake, brew a cup of tea, settle into a comfy chair and read (or reread) this holiday masterpiece about seven-year-old Buddy, his eccentric and elderly cousin, and their Christmas ritual – baking of fruitcakes – that so symbolizes their special love for each other. 

Another holiday tradition for me.

_________________

 
Queen’s Own Highlanders Fruitcake
I’ve been making this recipe for 30 years. Jack often helps. We enjoy it a Christmastime and always make an extra cake for brother-in-law George. The recipe first appear in Gourmet magazine in the early 1980s.

ingredients
2-1/4 cups golden raisins
2-1/4 cups dark raisins
1/2 cup chopped candied cherries
1/2 cup chopped dates
2 tablespoons chopped prunes
2 tablespoons chopped dried apricots
1/3 cup chopped mixed candied peel
1 teaspoon freshly grated lemon rind
1 teaspoon freshly grated orange rind
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1/4 cup fresh orange juice
1/2 small green apple, peeled, cored and diced
1/4 cup whiskey
2 tablespoons Drambuie
1/2 stick (1/4 cup) unsalted butter, softened
2/3 cup sugar
3 large eggs
1/2 cup slivered almonds, ground
1-3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt


preparation
In a large bowl combine well the golden and dark raisins, the cherries, the dates, the prunes, the apricots, the mixed peel, the lemon and orange rinds, the lemon and orange juices, the apple, the whiskey, and 1 tablespoon of the Drambuie and let the mixture macerate, covered with plastic wrap, in a cool place, stirring well every 24 hour, for 1 week.

Preheat oven to 275 degrees.

In a large bowl with an electric mixer cream together the butter and the sugar until the mixture is light and fluffy and beat in the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in the almonds and add the fruit mixture, stirring until the mixture is combined well. Into a bowl sift together the flour, the nutmeg, the cinnamon, and the salt and stir the flour mixture into the fruit mixture.

Line the bottom and side of a 9-inch round cake pan, 2 inches deep, with a double thickness of wax paper and butter (or spray) the wax paper. Pour the batter into the pan, smoothing the top and pressing the fruit into the edges of the pan, and bake the cake for 2 hours and 30 minutes to 2 hours and 45 minutes, or until a tester comes out clan. Pour the remaining 1 tablespoon of Drambuie over the cake and let it cool. Invert the cake onto a plate and peel off the wax paper gently and wrap in foil and store in a tin.

The cake will keep for up to one month (although George claims it keeps for months -- if you add a bit more whiskey ever now and then!)

makes 1 cake.