Wednesday, December 03, 2003

The Way to Make Fruitcake   Everyone says that they don’t like fruitcake.  I, however, do like fruitcake and will even admit it.  Yes, even the glace-filled, three-layer-of-cheesecloth -plastic and -foil-wrapped, hermetically sealed ones we would get in the mail every year from my late paternal grandmother.  I somehow viscerally understand her need to do scads of holiday baking (I, who NEVER bake during the whole rest of the year, stay up late at night or get up early in the morning to swaddle fruitcake in rumsoaked cheesecloth and lay it in tissue-lined boxes) and I always have liked fruitcake.  I even have a cherised favorite recipe that may convert the most hardened fruitcake skeptics.   Actually, I didn't really think about making fruitcake until I found this  particular recipe, several years ago. At some point I became flush enough to purchase a much-coveted cookbook to add to my meager collection, which at the time consisted only of the Joy of Cooking.  (Which is, and will always be, an invaluable book.  I learned to cook from it, and it remains my most often-consulted reference. . . ).  Anyhow, my second cookbook was the massive volume of Julia Child’s The Way to Cook, which is, for all its sententious-sounding title, really a distillation of the high points of MTAoFC, plus glossy photos.    There I was, in my lovely little upstairs Boston apartment, paging through my big glossy important and very heavy new cookbook, when I came across a recipe for an applesauce fruitcake (pg. 481).  This sounded good, especially because it is really easy (did I mention that I really don’t bake much) and also because I make applesauce every year (a vestigial habit that comes from an adolescence spent in Vermont, where bags of apples would fall on the ground every autumn, therefore lots of applesauce was made, eaten, and frozen for later.)  And, thought I, how much better would this applesauce fruit cake be if I treated it like my grandmother’s fruitcake, wrapping it in cheesecloths soaked in rum for a while before foisting it off on unsuspecting friends and relatives?   The result?  The fruitcake has become a minor cult classic amongst the small circle of relatives and friends who receive some in December.  In fact, I now make it to satisfy the (okay, very small) public demand.  I actually find myself limiting who gets a loaf jealously. . . which is also a form of insurance since all who get it hint noticeably the next year that they eagerly anticipate another. . . .   Anyhow, in case you can find it in your heart to be a fruitcake believer, here’s the recipe, with my adaptations (I always double the recipe as it’s found in the book, and use a different kind of nuts, plus two colors of raisins, and then soak it in rum. . . .)  I’m ashamed, given the reaction that it gets, at how easy it is, especially if you have a couple of jars of homemade applesauce on hand, which, since culitary habits die hard (or in this case, just refuse to die), I do.   Applesauce Fruit Cake 2 cups golden raisins 2 cups black raisins 3 cups white flour (no need to sift, but do make sure it isn’t too compacted –        one year my cake came out dry. . . now I stir up the flour in the bin a bit first) 1 cup brown sugar 1 cup white sugar 2 tsp each:  ground cloves, cinnamon, allspice 2 tsp salt 2 cups pecans (Julia says walnuts or hazelnuts), toasted 2 TBS (yes, that says TBS) double-acting baking powder 1 stick of melted butter 2 cups thick, homemade applesauce Optional – about a cup or so of booze, preferably dark rum, mixed with Calvados, brandy, or Jim Beam if necessary or desired Cheesecloth is necessary if using booze option   Preheat the oven to 300 F, with the rack in the middle.    Put the nuts on a cookie sheet to toast in the oven while you make the batter.  Check them often so they don’t burn!  About 10 minutes should do -- you'll smell them when they are ready, but take them out as soon as you smell them because they burn right after (this is the forgetful voice of bitter experience speaking).   Start by heavily greasing (butter, preferably) and lightly flouring 2 6-cup loaf pans (or the equivalent – I usually do one big and three mini-pans).   Then, set the applesauce to warm slightly in a saucepan over low heat, stirring every so often; add the butter to slowly melt as it warms up and keep stirring from time to time so the butter is well mixed.  Once the butter is melted, turn off heat.   Meanwhile, toss the raisins in a large mixing bowl with the flour (use your hands to break apart the stickiness of the raisins).  Add the sugars, spices, baking powder, and salt and mix well. (Again, hands do the best job at this, so do like me and get flour on everything!! Go on, it’ll be fun to clean up later!)  Toss in the nuts, which you have remembered to take out and have now cooled slightly.   Pour the applesauce mixture into the dry ingredients and fold it in until mixed.  It will be goopy and thick; don’t worry about beauty and don’t over mix – leave it lumpy.   Turn the batter into your pans.   Bake for 1 ½ hours in the preheated oven.  Do not peek, press, poke, or shake the cake for at least an hour, or it may deflate!!  It is done when (after more than an hour, even for little pans) a skewer stuck in it comes out clean.   Take out of the oven, let cool in pan for 20 mins, then unmold onto a rack and let cool completely.  At this point you can wrap it tightly and let it cure for 24 hours before serving – don’t try to eat it until the next day – it is really a cake that gets better with sitting (something about the moisture from the raisins, I guess).  You can store the wrapped loaves just like this, refrigerated, for several weeks.   Or, you can do the booze treatment, which adds so much nice flavor and makes it well-preserved for shipping to your relatives, too!   Rum, preferably decent dark rum, is the best base booze for fruitcakes – but you can play around with various combinations including some Calvados (apple brandy) or whatever bourbon you might have on hand, too.  This year I’m mixing some Barbados rum with a tiny bit of apple cider, just for kicks.  Warm the rum, and whatever other booze, until it’s steaming but not boiling (and let me tell you, there’s nothing like the smell of warm rum to turn your stomach in the morning, which is usually when I end up performing this lovely operation).  Brush each loaf lightly on all sides with the rum (use a pastry brush), then soak lengths of cheesecloth in the remaining booze.  Wrap the loaves in decently thick layer of boozy cheesecloth to cover them (did I mention this is in the morning?  This is the point at which I wonder why I bother).  Then wrap them tightly in plastic wrap or aluminum foil, or both.  The wrapping more than is really necessary in lots of layers of different wrappings is part of what makes a fruitcake a fruitcake, after all.   Let sit for at least 10 days before giving to people if you go the booze route. . . 2 weeks is the optimum and it will keep for months like this.  Before that, it may be a bit boozy, so be warned.  And you really don’t have to use too  much booze – no need to drown it, just a light brushing and then wrapping in damp, not dripping, cheesecloth is fine.  Take it from me, who has served BOOZY fruitcake at holiday parties past.  Somehow nobody really minded, but for your relatives it may be advisable to go easy! Or not, depending on the relative, I suppose.   Anyhow, this fruitcake is really good – as Julia writes, “It’s a moist, serious, spicy loaf in the old-fashioned tradition.”  In other words, it ain’t your grandmother’s fruitcake --  it’s better!  Trust me, people will ask you for it next year.  Be very selective who you give it to. . . .   And stay tuned for next week, when I forge on with my annual test of the mysteries of baking by making cookies and other assorted confections.      10:53:36 PM    comment []