STIRRING UP SOME CHRISTMAS FRUITCAKE Nothing says Christmas like a traditional fruitcake where I am from. If you are a Vermonter then you might know fruitcake best from the story of Favor Johnson. This is a Christmas tale of small town New England and neighborly love, with fruitcake as the vehicle for showing thanks and goodwill. If you don’t know the story, then listen to a reading of it here.
Christmas cake is the kind of thing my Granny would always make, and frankly would last all year once you had the required sliver of this insanely heavy, rich and sweet creation. You have to love dried fruit to get into it, and then there is the marzipan layer to work through under the hard pure sugar icing. On the upside, there is the booze. These things are soaked in a choice of Whisky, Brandy, or Rum and you must not hold back. The better the quality spirit, the better the end result naturally and at least one bottle is required to guarantee it’s success. The key really is to make the cake as early on in the year as is feasible, I am talking about starting in the summer. Well, I was a little late to the party and started mine on Stir-Up Sunday. I had never heard of this word for the last Sunday before Advent if it were not for Christine’s Dad, but then I do rely on him to remind me of my Anglican roots so I was grateful for the tip and it seemed a fitting day to start.
Since my Grannies are no longer with us, I determined it was time for me to step up and take on the tradition of the Christmas Cake and I used the ever trustworthy Delia Smith (the Julia Child of British Cooking, without the flamboyance) for my recipe. You can read it here. My only stumbling block at first was that I couldn’t find glace fruits or dried citrus peel so I had to make my own. Essentially soaking peel and fruit in a tonne of sugar and drying them thoroughly, then dicing it all up to add to the mix of raisins, currants and sultanas (golden raisins).
The Cake batter is the usual mix of eggs, sugar and flour with the addition of stout (I used Guinness) and rum (I opted for golden rum instead of dark in the hope of cutting back on some of the sweetness) to add depth and color.
Once the cake is baked and cooled the serious business of feeding the cake starts! Pricking the cake all over with a wooden skewer to create easy access for the booze that will be poured over the cake for weeks to come, I started spooning rum all over it. This process continues for at least 4 weeks or so, until you are ready to ice the cake. As long as you store the cake in an airtight container and in a cool dry place it will last for months. Pops (my Dad) says that cockroaches and fruitcake are the only things that will survive a nuclear attack....you get the picture.
After a thin covering of marzipan is added to the entire cake the fun begins! It must be a childhood thing for Pops, but he insisted on using hard icing (a cement-like mix of powdered sugar and whipped egg whites with some lemon juice added to keep it bright white) instead of the more common fondant. I am going to preface the next couple of shots with the argument that the desired end result was to be as handmade and hokey as possible and I think we did a fine job. The white icing is Pops’ handiwork, aided by the obligatory Martini which might just explain the finished article. Wait...are there two olives in that glass? Correction, aided by two Martinis.
The colored icing was my handiwork and all we need now is a little plastic Santa and some trees to top it off! The name of the game is not to be subtle or simple but instead to go for broke and let your creative flair shine through! Or something like that...
So there you have it, the crowning glory of our Christmas table will be this monstrosity beauty. I like to think of it just as my parents did about our handmade ornaments for the tree back in the day. It may not be perfect but it was made with love, dedication and festive cheer. Now, I wonder what it tastes like?
