Fruitcake Fixation

As I drifted to sleep last night, pondering fruitcakes, I had a minor ephiphany.(Yes, I know fixating on fruitcakes in bed is weird. Whatever. Just stick with me for a sec...)

The fruitcake is iconic. So much so, I'll bet there's a whole generation of people who've never actually tried one. They simply buy into the legends of fruitcake villainy as manifest truth. The fruitcake is such a physical manifestation of poor holiday judgement, it's become modern shorthand for failure.

Don't believe the hype. Fruitcakes — at least the universally loathed lumps that appear around the holidays — were once precious, anticipated, beloved... and delicious. They've acquired their current bad rep because the glory days of the fruitcake are bygone.

Real fruitcake takes time, love, and several weeks of patient, closely monitored steeping in fine fogs of brandy. Who's got time for that? So, in the interest of efficiency, the fragrant fruit and nut cakes of yore have been swapped for a nation of cloying knockoffs. Pity.

Lucky for me, my mom still takes the time to make fruitcake. Good fruitcake. Mmmm... Slice it thin and slather with creamy mascarpone. If you're virtuous and brave — but not as fortunate as me — you could endeavor to make your own.

There's still enough time before Christmas to restore the much-maligned holiday classic to a place of departed grandeur.