Is it worth the expense to use top-shelf liquor in your fruitcake, or does any difference get washed out in the baking process?
'fruitcake' on Serious Eats
It's time we stop making the fruitcake a laughing stock, get it a better PR agent, and instead celebrate this rich (and often boozy) dessert for its prominent place in history.
Yeah, you're probably not even going to click through, are you.
An ode to fruitcake that's easy to love, with a rum-orange ice cream base and real dried fruit, not chemically candied cherries.
Years and years ago my brother-in-law brought me a swank little fruitcake, all packaged and primped and wrapped up, all the way from London to my not-so-tony walk-up apartment in Manhattan's Upper West Side. I opened it up, fully expecting my fussy palate to become enthralled at the first bite of fancy cake, but no amount of passport stamps, customs forms, and British spelling ("coloUr"!!!) could make me choke the vile thing down.
I love the idea of Christmas fruitcake—a dried fruit and nut-studded, often liqueur-soaked confection, the recipe for which is passed down from generation to generation. But my enthusiasm wanes when it comes to actually eating a hefty slice of it. Too often, fruitcake is leaden and cloyingly sweet. (And who, I ask you, actually likes glace cherries?) This year I got to thinking, what if I made a conserve that incorporated the best flavors of fruitcake, minus the density and excess sugar?
No one told me there would be cake when I signed up to vote, but historically Election Cake was an important part of doing your civic duty in Connecticut as early as colonial days. If you're going to rock the vote, I see no reason to do so sans cake. In anticipation of Election Day, this seems like a good time to revive a noble eating tradition.