Fruitcake has something of a bad rap, but is it justified? After perusing recipes for my first-ever attempt at making it, I determined that yes, it is.
For starters, I had a difficult time finding a recipe that didn’t involve rum. I didn’t think the cruel oppressor would be too thrilled when I submitted a reimbursement for hard liquor. Thankfully, Cassie scouted out an alcohol-free version and one that didn’t involve 10 types of fruit and/or fruit peels. The only odd item I’ll be submitting a reimbursement for is a giant sized jar of apple sauce – it was all Target had, and I needed ingredients and cute holiday gift bags, so really, where else was I supposed to go?
My main issue with fruitcake is this: It doesn’t sound appetizing at all. The recipe I use contained a pound of raisins and mixed peels of unspecified fruit. I like to bake, but I specifically like to bake delicious things. This wasn’t cutting it.
Here’s the recipe in its entirely, for those of you playing along at home:
Old fashion easy fruitcake
Courtesy of cooks.com
1/2 cup shortening or oil or butter (I went with butter, and for the record, I find the laundry list of options here disconcerting)
2 cups sugar
2 cups applesauce
3 cups flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. soda
2 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. salt
1 lb. raisins
Small jar of cherries (I used dried cherries)
1 cup mixed peels (I used one large orange)
1 cup chopped nuts
Cream shortening, sugar, and applesauce in big bowl. Add all spices and mix. Sprinkle flour over raisins, jar of drained cherries, peels, and nuts; mix together. Add with first mixture and beat for 5 minutes. Pour into a large tube pan and bake for 2½ to 3 hours. Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes and then lower oven to 300 degrees. Make sure pan is greased and floured thoroughly.
The recipe notes that the fruitcake will last several weeks to a month if wrapped in tin foil. I don’t know about you, but when I make something, it’s gone in a few days. The longevity of fruitcake does not impress me.
I threw the ingredients into my stand mixer and watched the fruit-filled goop twirl in the bowl. It was revolting, and to make matters worse, it didn’t smell great. I imagine this is how Victor Frankenstein felt about his creation. I didn’t have a tube pan, so I poured most of the mixture in a loaf pan. The rest went down the garbage disposal. Even that had a hard time choking the stuff down – surely a sign of things to come.
As I wasn’t making the entire vat, I hoped the cooking time would be reduced from the three hour time table. Two hours later, I realized that it was not my lucky day. The top was looking pretty brown, but the middle wasn’t cooked all the way through. Another 15 minutes did the trick – it didn’t look any tastier, but at least no one would get food poisoning.
Now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for . . . the moment I’ve been avoiding: The taste test. I brought the loaf into work for Cassie and I to try. Cassie said she liked the moist taste and spicy flavor, and could see herself enjoying it with a cup of tea. I proclaimed that I was satisfied after taking two bites.
It’s possible I was setting myself up to not like it – after all, I had to see the slop-like dough form. To top things off, I’m not a giant fan of raisins and this recipe is infested with them.
Maybe fruitcake doesn’t deserve its reputation, though I would add that if someone made this recipe in November planning to give it as a gift in December, the giftee might prefer to use it as a door stop instead of eating it. (Seriously, it’s heavy enough.) I just don’t buy that it would taste great a month from now.
Mercifully, I don’t have to test that theory.
