CEBU, Philippines - During the holidays I was in a frenzy making my trademarked Fair Trade Fruitcake.
I would claim this recipe to be original because the recipe is a variation of different fruitcake recipes, although it started with my sister Cherryl’s recipe. I improved it to accommodate local organic and Fair Trade Certified ingredients like muscovado sugar (instead of brown sugar), TruFood Dried Mangoes (in addition to glazed fruits), and the addition of Eight Days Coffee (Check out other fairly traded products at The Fair Trade Shop along Osmeña Blvd., right beside MayBank).
I also have a vegetarian variant which replaces eggs with local ingredients, like vinegar. Yes, I use vinegar but that’s another story, which reminds me that every time my sister sees me cooking she would not stop badgering me about following the recipe to the letter, but I couldn’t help myself. Some extra fruits here, some more brandy or coffee, or a teaspoon more of cinnamon, or how about adding a dash of ginger powder and, yes, clover smells of Christmas, don’t you think?
So, it was not difficult for me to decide to replace brandy with an extra strong dose of Eight Days Coffee when I decided to come up with a liquor-free recipe. Mind you, it worked. And for the vegetarian bit, well, it was history, but honestly, those who tasted the egg-full recipe (each recipe needs 10 eggs!) and the egg-less recipe couldn’t tell the difference.
I don’t know why, but I have always found fruitcake to be the quintessential Christmas cake. Its flavor has the warmth of Christmas and the smell is just so comfortably Christmassy.
I remember the first time I tasted this Christmas fare, I was in high school and never did I know that this delicious fare was spiked with brandy. I found the flavor to be a bit funny; somewhat strong and bitter, but delicious, nonetheless. Must be the fruits, I reckoned. Later, I found out that the heavy cake has a spirit of its own, which encouraged me further to take another bite, believing that at last I have tasted wine, liquors being a definite no, no for minors in the house.
My passion for this stone-rock delicacy, however, is not shared by most people. In fact, fruitcakes are a favorite topic for holiday jokes and, yes, the term is even used as a defamatory remark against members of society who are different.
A famous joke on fruitcakes is that told by former The Tonight Show host Johnny Carson. He said, “The worst gift is fruitcake. There is only one fruitcake in the entire world, and people keep sending it to each other.” And this could have some truth in it as fruitcakes could last for years. As long as there are no molds in it, it’s ok to eat, they say.
Despite this infamy, fruitcakes remain to be a bestseller especially during the holidays.
According to whatscookingamerica.com, fruitcakes date back to Roman times where pomegranate seeds, pine nuts, and raisins were added in barley mash in order to come up with a delicious treat.
In the middle ages, whatscookingamerica.com claims that honey, spices, and preserved fruits were then introduced as an essential ingredient in fruitcakes.
The British, on the other hand, began their love affair with fruitcake in the 14th Century when dried fruits from the Mediterranean first arrived.
In the 16th Century, the abundance of sugar in Europe prompted homemakers to come up with uses for the abundant commodity. They discovered that fruits can be preserved if soaked in sugar syrup. And with the oversupply of glazed fruits, fruitcakes came into being. By the end of the 19th century, fruitcakes became even heavier as more fruits were added to the recipe including pineapples, citrus peel, plum, dates, pineapple, pears and cherries.
In the 1700s, fruitcakes became a part of religious functions as farmers baked it at the end of nut harvest to be eaten the next year to celebrate the beginning of the next harvest. It was also at this time that a kind of fruitcake called plum cakes were outlawed throughout Continental Europe because they were “sinfully rich”. But by the end of the 18th Century, the law became much more reasonable and the ban became restrictions.
With all the fuss on fruitcakes, it is but a wonder that the best fruitcakes in the world (according to critics) are made by Trappist monks, first of the Abbey of Gethsemane in Kentucky, and then followed by the monks at the Holy Cross Abbey in Virginia. Other monastic communities followed banking on the millions of fruitcake demand every year, in the U.S. alone (The latest figure that I was able to dig up was 21 million in 2004, as claimed by the Catholic News Service.).
This shows that while there are people who throw around their fruitcake for fun, there are also those who enjoy getting their booze from a sweet concoction.
Indeed, the malicious cake, which has become an excuse for sober people to be drunk, is a part of Christmas tradition, and no matter how much some people may hate this misunderstood piece of rock, oh, cake (sorry), it will remain to be the quintessential Christmas treat, internationally.