Fruitcake 2024

What do you do with leftover Christmas fruitcake? No, you don’t throw it out with the fuzzy leftover lasagna. You cut it into slices and freeze it so you can enjoy it throughout the year. Which is exactly what I did last year. Ate a slice every month. Washed it down with a cup of coffee. It lasted until mid August. Which means…

It’s time to start thinking about baking another fruitcake. Baking. From scratch. Flour and fruit, cinnamon and nutmeg. Not buying one that has probably been stored in some grocery store warehouse since 1945. Stored in a rusted old tin. Completely forgotten until an efficient warehouse manager decided to clean house and thought, “We might as well try to sell it. It’s probably still edible.”

Time to gather the ingredients. Soak the fruit. Sift and stir. Add a dash of this, a tablespoon of that. Bake at 350 degrees until it’s golden. Smile as your family and friends bite into the best tasting fruitcake you’ve ever made. Watch their attitude change from fruitcake naysayers to fruitcake lovers.

Of course, that “miracle transformation” has yet to occur. I’ve been making fruitcakes for several years now and I haven’t seen a smiling face that gleamed fruitcake love at any of them. Last year’s fruitcake (which, like I said, I ate throughout the year and thought quite tasty) was (according to everyone else) the worst. 

You have to follow the recipe. Which I did. To the T. And maybe that was the problem. I thought at the time, “Wow, that’s a whole lot of brandy.” But, what do I know? I’m no fruitcake expert. (At least I was smart enough not to eat fruitcake and drive.)

You probably didn’t know this, but fruitcakes can be traced back to the Roman era (not actual fruitcakes, just their history). They were sort of like energy bars. Made from a mash of barley, honey, dried fruit and wine. Over the years, the recipe changed to include dried fruit preserved in sugary syrup. I think cavities started to appear at about the same time, but don’t quote me on it. Again, I’m no expert.

The oldest existing fruitcake was baked in 1878 during the Rutherford B. Hayes administration. At this very moment, it’s being kept as an heirloom by a family up in Michigan. In 2017, the second oldest existing fruitcake was found in Antartica. It was left behind in a hut that Robert Falcon Scott and his men used on their 1910 expedition to the South Pole. Unfortunately, they all died on their return trip.

So, it’s time for me to start thinking about baking a fruitcake. It’s time to start imagining the family gathered at the dinner table, patiently waiting for slices of the traditional Christmas dessert to be passed around. The clinking of silverware on plates. The silent chewing. The eyes opened wide in amazement that a fruitcake could ever taste so good. Maybe not as good as German chocolate or a Key Lime pie, but good.

“You actually made this? In our kitchen?”

“I can’t imagine anybody ever telling a joke about THIS fruitcake.”

“I don’t think there will be enough for everybody to have more than two slices. Maybe you should make two fruitcakes next year.”

“You know, I bet you could package this up and sell it online. Would make a great side gig.”

Yes, that’s what I imagine. A fruitcake loved by all. Looked forward to with anticipation. A baking tradition that is passed down through countless generations. It’s possible. Maybe it’ll happen this year. I’ll let you know.