Thursday, December 4, 2008

Midweek Kitchen Confessions 2: Family Secrets Edition

#1 I like booze. Especially in my food. Even more so in my desserts. BUT, I come by this penchant honestly. See for reference: the Pie Queen's ode to rum cake. My family is made up of mainly non-drinkers. NOW. A few years ago, my parents moved here to Utah, and in the process of helping the Pie Queen unpack her kitchen I discovered a large number of mini loaf pans. When I inquired about them I was informed that years ago (MANY years ago) before my parents joined the LDS Church and swore off liquor (among other things) they used to make dozens of fruitcakes--BOOZY fruitcakes--to give away at Christmastime. Which brings me to...

#2 I love fruitcake. I know, it's gauche in these days of gourmet cupcakes and whatnot to enjoy something as old school (it really doesn't get more old school than Ancient Rome) as fruitcake. I'm not talking about the fruitcake that has candied Soylent Green in it. I'm talking about the real thing. With real fruits, real nuts, and naturally, real BOOZE. The best fruitcake I've had so far was from the Cheese Board in Berkeley. mr. bought one for me the first Christmas we lived together. Oh, yum. If you live nearby, take advantage (assuming they still make it which, omg, why wouldn't they?). Which brings me to...

#3 I worship Alton Brown. A few years ago, I watched an episode of his show about fruitcake. And that thing looked so good I've wanted, aimed, planned to make it every year since. This year's the year. Today's the day. It's in the oven now. It will spend the next few weeks being lovingly tended to and occasionally (and liberally) basted with more booze.


Just reviving family traditions.

1 comment:

pinky said...

I wish you could have tasted the fruitcake made by a southern black woman named Mrs. Beeze, mother of one of my Dad's associates when he worked for the City of LA. It was moist, dark and incredibly delicious. I have never tasted another quite like it. If I remember correctly she was from New Orleans. She made the cakes and sold them every year. They were baked well in advance of the holidays and seasoned regularly with some hard liquor or other and kept secluded in a dark, cool place in her well kept home. A few days prior to Christmas each year my father would bring this treasure home with him from work and the Christmas celebration would officially begin. You could never actually taste the liquor itself but it was there and made the cake what it was.