I love fruitcake. I always have. To me the holidays wouldn't be correct without certain foods. Shortbread cookies and fruitcake are the most important.
Mincemeat, the real stuff, made with real ground beef, apples and raisins, is almost required. I feel bereft if I go an entire year without tasting mincemeat, but it doesn't spoil the season if I don't make some.
Store bought mincemeat is foul.
Just thought I'd get that out there.
If all you've ever tried is the store bought version, and you say you don't like mincemeat, then I must challenge you to try the REAL mincemeat before you can claim to not like it.
That is all I have to say about mincemeat. Except now I really want some.
Back to the fruitcake. Last evening I assembled all the fruits in a large bowl and poured on the brandy. Brandy makes the fruit happy. This morning I mixed up the batter, combined all the good stuff, and baked it for four hours. Yes, four hours of the gorgeous smell of baking fruitcake.
My mouth watered.
I might be dehydrated now.
Once the cake cooled completely, I poked holes all over the surface and dribbled on more brandy. This is called feeding the cake. Now the cake will sit all wrapped up snugly in its tin, maturing. And getting fed regularly.
I love fruitcake.
Long ago, when I was in elementary school, our male orange tabby cat, Chippy, got into the dryer while Mom was doing the laundry. Luckily she heard him yowling after only a few seconds of tumbling.
