Dark Fruitcake for the Reformation of Fruitcake Haters

I know, I know. You do not like fruitcake. Neither do I, if by fruitcake you mean those mass-produced doorstops smothered in candied nuclear mystery fruit. But it turns out we moderns have all been duped by evil imposters. At least once in your life, you owe it to yourself to try a real-deal, old-fashioned, traditional fruitcake made by hand at home. This is a dense, spicy cake packed with real fruits, a mountain of nuts, and all those spices that fill the house with the scent of Christmas and bring Scrooges to repentance. I have made many fruitcake converts with this recipe! 

This makes four dark loaf cakes which will easily keep a month or more if well-soaked in brandy and kept tightly wrapped. All this chopping and stirring and brandy sniffing is more fun with a buddy, so we always turn on the carols and make it a party. I have it on the calendar to stir these up sometime in November because, like me, they improve with a long nap. 

We like this with hot tea or coffee and a dollop of traditional hard sauce, the kind served with Christmas puddings throughout Britain. I use Martha Stewart’s recipe, which is perfect (of course), quick, and blessedly simple. Recipe below.

Note: You can wiggle a bit on the amounts of individual fruits, as long as you keep your total cups of fruit equal to the recipe totals. For example, if you want to omit the cup of tart cherries (which you don't, honestly), you could add another cup of currants or dried cranberries. Similarly, you can vary the ratio of pecans to walnuts as long as you wind up with 6 cups of nuts total. But don’t go too wild omitting stuff, because it’s the wide variety of flavors and textures which makes an honest-to-goodness fruitcake so compelling. Well, okay, that and the brandy.

1 cup  golden raisins
1 cup currants 

1 cup dried tart cherries

1 cup dried cranberries

2 cups dried apricot halves, chopped
2 cups dried figs, quartered
1 cup prunes, quartered
1 cup dates, pitted and chopped
4 cups walnuts, chopped by hand into large pieces
2 cups pecans, chopped by hand into large pieces
3  oranges, grated zest only
3 lemons, grated zest only
½ cup candied ginger, chopped
2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp ground allspice
1 tsp freshly grated nutmeg or mace
½ tsp ground cloves
1 cup  molasses (I use 2/3 cup molasses and 1/3 cup Golden Eagle syrup)
2 cups  brandy (plus more for soaking cakes later)
½ cup  orange liqueur, such as Grand Marnier or Cointreau

For the batter (which you will make a day or two later):

4 cups all-purpose flour
1 T baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1½ tsp salt
1 lb butter, room temperature (plus more for greasing pans)
3 cups dark brown sugar
8  large eggs
1 T vanilla extract 

You will also need: Four loaf pans (9 X 5 X 3), parchment paper, foil, a wire cooling rack, a pastry brush, and a very (and I do mean Very) large mixing bowl.

THE DAY BEFORE: 

Combine all dried fruits, ginger, nuts and citrus zest in a large mixing bowl. Add the spices and toss well to mix. Add molasses and liquids and mix well. Cover tightly and allow to macerate overnight (or for a couple of days) at room temperature, stirring occasionally. 

ON BAKING DAY:

Preheat oven to 275F. Grease four loaf pans (9 X 5 X 3 inches), and then line them with greased parchment paper. (Cut your parchment paper wide enough to ruffle a bit above the long sides of the pan, so you can grab onto it when it is time to lift the baked cakes out of the pans.) Coat the greased parchment paper lightly with flour. 

Sprinkle 1 cup flour over the fruit mixture and stir it in. Combine the remaining 3 cups of flour with baking powder, baking soda and salt, and sift them together onto a sheet of waxed or parchment paper; set aside. Cream the butter and dark brown sugar, and beat well. Add eggs, two at a time, beating well after each addition. Add the vanilla. Tip in all the sifted dry ingredients and beat until batter is blended and smooth. Pour batter over the fruit mixture, and mix well until everything is coated with batter. Divide batter among loaf pans, filling to ½ inch below top. Bake for 2 hours. 

The cakes usually crack on top. Embrace this, my dear, like the crow's feet which add to your wise and mysterious beauty.

Cakes are done when a toothpick or cake tester inserted in the center comes out clean. Allow to cool a bit in the pans and then carefully lift the cakes out of their pans using the parchment paper, and set on a wire rack to cool. Brush cakes on top and sides with a little brandy. I wrap mine in parchment paper, and then in tight foil, and then place them inside ziplock bags. I store them in the pantry. Every few days, I open the wrappings carefully and brush them again with a little more brandy, or perhaps Grand Marnier.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Martha Stewart’s Hard Sauce

• 1 cup confectioners sugar 

• 7 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature 

• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract 

• 3 tablespoons brandy or cognac

In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the sugar and butter until light and fluffy. Add the vanilla and brandy or Cognac; beat until combined. Transfer to a serving dish, and cover with plastic wrap. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

Lynn’s notes: 1) Martha says use a mixer but a food processor or even just a heartily-wielded spoon works here, too. 2) I use Grand Marnier instead of brandy, because the orange flavor really complements the citrus zest in the cake. Either will do nicely.

Bon appetit, and merry Christmas!

Stovetop Peach Rice Pudding

My pantry is too stinking deep.  Sometimes I get a little paranoid about the dusty food urchins that dwell in those dark recesses.  Like the ridiculous stockpile of canned organic pumpkin which I'm pretty sure I bought not because it was on holiday sale but rather because the labels are so cute and I'm a sucker for pumpkins.  Or the Eagle Brand milk I fetched for the daughter who had her cap set to make lemon meringue pie but then got hopelessly distracted by the love of her life... umm, how many years ago?  Then there's the veritable school of canned salmon; the plethora of exotic salsas and artisan jams nabbed on the cheap at Tuesday Morning; the chickpeas... oh heavens, the chickpeas.  

So Many Chickpeas. 

You get the picture.  Is it like this in your world?

But I am all Januaryish determination: all that stuff is coming forth into the light of Judgment Day, either to be transformed into something yummy or condemned to everlasting disposal.  Yes indeedy, I will wipe those shelves clean before the first daffodils of spring appear.  And I do here vow to greet that day with no chickpeas. 

Thus committed, I see right away that I must begin to come to terms with All This Rice. Golly.  I  must have bought the giant bag at Costco... twice.  Woops.  So... rice, what?  I remembered a huge can of sliced peaches (the Costco biggie-sized can) left over from a church meeting.  And wasn't there a half-gallon of almond milk in the back of the fridge that was within hours of its best-by date?

So, voila... I made up this recipe for peach rice pudding.  Now, I don't just love canned peaches on their own, but their satiny syrupy smoothness works against the toothy texture of the spiced-up rice.  So aromatic, so creamy, so perfect for a cold January day.  This one's a keeper.

One note:  I've been putting Garam Masala in absolutely everything lately and I've yet to wish I hadn't.  But if you don't have it on hand, you could substitute whatever strikes your fancy -- maybe nutmeg or ginger -- or just use the cinnamon and call it good.


Stove-top Peach Rice Pudding

1/2 tsp salt
2 cups rice
1 half gallon carton of almond milk (or whole milk)
1 scant cup sugar or 2/3 cup honey
1 T vanilla extract
1/2 tsp Garam Masala
2 tsp cinnamon
2-3 cans of sliced peaches*, drained (or fresh peaches in season)

Bring four cups of water to a boil in a very large dutch oven (at least 6 quarts) or similar pot with a heavy bottom.  Stir in salt and rice, cover and simmer over low heat about 20 minutes, or until water is almost absorbed.

Add almond milk, sugar or honey, and spices.  Lift peaches from can with a slotted spoon and carefully add to rice mixture, stirring gently.  Increase heat and bring to a simmer, then reduce heat and let simmer, uncovered, for about 30 minutes, stirring frequently to prevent sticking.  Reduce heat to low, stir in vanilla, and continue stirring frequently until it begins to thicken, about 15 minutes longer.

Makes a lot, which is good because it's dandy to have leftovers for breakfasts and snacks.  Can be eaten warm or cold.

*Note:  I used about half the huge can of peaches.  With the other half, I made Nigella Lawson's Spiced Peaches.  Amazing, and super fast; can't wait to have them with a little goat cheese on crostini.  There was a lot of the spicy syrup left in the pot after I jarred the peaches, which I couldn't bear to throw out, so I quickly made it into syrup for pancakes by straining the syrup through a sieve, then adding enough water to the syrup to bring it to 3 cups liquid and pouring it back into the pot with 3 cups dark brown sugar and a spoonful of maple flavoring.  I let that simmer for about 20 minutes before pouring it hot into a jar.  Keeps in the fridge for a couple of weeks.  Deeelicious.

Plum Crumble

Last September, on a whim, I rescued a gorgeous box of Italian prune plums from Costco for no other reason than I simply had to behold their breath-taking shade of velvety blue-red-purple piled into the emerald green bowl on my island. That is my favorite color combination. I know God likes it, too, because He uses it so often! 

And that is when I began to seriously pursue the perfect plum crumble. Eventually I tinkered my way to this recipe, which is now my favorite thing to do with any kind of summer stone fruit. Well, other than scarf them down over the kitchen sink with their cold nectar dripping off my elbows. 

This, lovies, is tangy, sweet, spicy fruit rolling out from under a topping that is by turns custardy, crunchy, and chewy. I think I've actually dreamed about eating this. Justin says it's his favorite dessert I've ever made! 

A lovely dessert, but we also like it for breakfast. Good cold, room temperature, or warm. Just good good good every which way, really.


Plum Crumble

For the plums:

½ cup lightly packed brown sugar OR ½ cup honey
4 ½ Tbsp. flour
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground ginger
⅔ cup finely chopped crystallized ginger
about 30-40 Italian prune plums, halved and pitted*
Juice of 1 fresh lemon

For the topping:

1 ½ cups sugar (I use unbleached organic)
2 cups flour
1 rounded cup old-fashioned oats
1½ tsp. ground cinnamon
2 tsp. baking powder
½ tsp. kosher salt
5 large eggs, beaten well (4 perhaps, if extra large)
1 cup unsalted butter, melted

Position a rack in the center of your oven, and preheat to 375°F.

In a large bowl, whisk together the seasoning for the plums: the brown sugar or honey, flour, cinnamon, ginger, and crystallized ginger. Add this to the plums, and gently stir to coat. Spread the plums evenly in an ungreased 9X13 inch baking dish. (You could also divide it into two smaller baking dishes.)

In a medium bowl, combine the dry ingredients for the topping: sugar, flour, oats, cinnamon, baking powder, and salt. Whisk to blend well. Add the beaten eggs. Using your hands, mix thoroughly, pinching handfuls of the mixture to produce moist little particles. (If it still has dry patches, add another beaten egg.) Drop spoonfuls over the plums, then pat and spread with your fingers till it covers.

Spoon the melted butter evenly over the topping.

Bake for 35-45 minutes, or until the top is browned.

Serve warm or at room temperature, with crème fraîche, ice cream, or unsweetened whipped cream.

Note: Reheat slowly, in an oven set to 300 degrees or less, to avoid over-browning the crumble.


*Roughly equivalent to about 15-20 regular plums. I just use up a whole container from Costco and I never remember to count. Peaches? Eh, maybe a dozen? I'm totally guessing, can you tell? It's more art than science, so just use what you have and it will all be glorious, you'll see.

Road Scholars' Carrot Cake-ish

Back when I had two little girls who could still fit all their school books into their pink and purple backpacks, we used to pack up our school and go on road trips with my parents whenever we could. We've done so much school on interstates that my daddy started calling us Road Scholars. (We called him our guest lecturer because he always had interesting stuff to add to our lessons.)

I often took loaves of this carrot cake on those trips, pre-sliced and wrapped in foil, because it keeps everyone satisfied between meal stops and all but eliminates the temptations (and expense!) of junk food at truck stops. Daddy used to start dropping broad hints about how good it was about a week before our departures, and then he'd show up all hopeful with his ancient green thermos full of hot coffee.

Ahh, those were amazing years. When God gives you fleeting chances to do great things, by all means do them.

I'm never sure whether to call this stuff carrot cake or carrot bread. Hence cake-ish. Terrific stuff to have handy, at home or on the road. Stellar with good hot coffee mid-afternoon. If there's any left over next day, we toast it slightly and spread on a little cream cheese for breakfast or teatime. Delightful, that.


Road Scholars' Carrot Cake-ish

3/4 to 1 cup sugar
1 1/4 cup water
1 cup raisins
2 cups finely grated carrots (4 medium large)
1 T butter
1 1/2 tsp ground cloves
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

1 cup chopped nuts (pecans or walnuts)
1 1/4 cups whole wheat flour
1 1/8 cups all purpose flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt (optionsl)


Combine first 8 ingredients in a saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Cover the pan and let the mixture rest for 12 hours on the stovetop.*

Combine remaining ingredients, and add to the carrot mixture after it has rested for 12 hours. Stir just enough to combine the ingredients and no more!

Divide batter into two oiled loaf pans, about 9 X 5 X 3 inches. Bake in a preheated 275 degree oven for one hour and ten minutes. (I find that it needs the full cooking time.)

Freezes fairly well, but I've never frozen it for longer than a month. Frankly, I can't imagine why you would put off eating it that long.


*Yes, this resting step is rather odd, but it makes a big difference and you don't want to skip it. It infuses the carrots and raisins with incredible flavor and greatly improves their texture. Plus, this quirky little step makes these loaves so easy to make for breakfast for company-- get the dry ingredients together and let the carrot/spice mixture rest overnight, then bake it in the morning. Your guests will wake up to an amazing, spicy, homey aroma wafting through your house!


~adapted from Jane Brody's Good Food Book

AHA Apple Cake

I rarely bake cakes because we're just not huge cake fans at our house. I'd much rather risk my skirt size on Great Scot's legendary cookies or a big bowl of warm cobbler. But I make an exception for this Apple Cake, probably because it's so swell for teatime or breakfast, which means it actually gets eaten around our house. Plus it's really quick and makes the house smell so cozy.

Easy Apple Cake
adapted from the American Heart Association Cookbook

2 cups diced apples
2/3 cup sugar
1/3 cup oil
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 egg, beaten

1 1/2 cups flour, unsifted (whole wheat would do fine)
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 cup raisins

Preheat oven to 350. Combine apples and sugar in a mixing bowl and let stand 10 minutes. Blend oil, vanilla and egg with the apples. Combine dry ingredients and mix in well. Stir in the raisins.

Pour into a greased 8-inch square cake pan. Bake at 350F for 35 to 40 minutes. This cake does not rise like light cakes do, so it's okay if it looks a bit flat.

NOTE: It is very good just as it is, when served soon after baking. Any leftover cake would be delicious served with a lemon sauce.