Wool and Spice

I have a husband who likes fruitcake. Now I know fruitcakes are easy targets for ridicule. They’re heavy, rich and full of booze and last forever. While that last feature is often desirable in such things as good times and batteries, not so in most fruitcakes.

But there can be exceptions. Jack has specific ideas about what he wants in a fruitcake: more dried fruit than candied fruit, some nuts but still leave plenty of batter. And go easy on the alcohol.

For years we bought commercial fruitcakes to see if they met his expectations. For a while the closest we came was the apricot pecan cakes from Collins Bakery. Which are delicious and come close to the idea of a fruitcake, but at $36 for less than 2 pounds of cake they were an indulgence. And with only one fruit they seemed to lack the flavor surprise that a fruitcake provides. The search continued.

We tried the ones from Gethsemeni Farms which were dark, heavy and very rich. And so full of bourbon that we got lightheaded just unwrapping it. Since he doesn’t like the overwhelming taste of liquor in his desserts, these were given a pass after one try. I think we also ordered their bourbon fudge, don’t ask me why.  It’s the only time I remember throwing out fudge.

There were others, equally as expensive and equally full of brandy, bourbon or rum. Then there were those cheap little fruitcakes you see in the grocery store with tons of toxic neon red and green candied fruit and a nut or two. When he started bringing those home, I decided it was time to try my hand at baking fruitcake.

After much searching I found an old recipe that looked inviting in King Arthur Flour’s 200th anniversary cookbook. What attracted me first was that it’s a light fruitcake, both in the sense that it’s not heavily seasoned and the batter is pale yellow. But it’s not light in weight: this year’s batch weighs 5 pounds.

I’ve made this fruitcake for at least 5 years now and each year I’ve modified it. It’s still not where I want it, but it’s getting better.

One of my modifications is to alternate soaking the fruitcake with rum and apple juice. For the first week I use all rum, then switch to apple juice for the next week and then rum during week three. This is purely a personal taste preference. If you like heavily rum-soaked fruitcake, use all rum and damn the torpedoes.

The cake really should be baked in early November to allow enough time to season for about 6 weeks before eating. I never remember to do that — partly because I never start thinking about the holidays that early. This year’s batch just got baked about 10 days ago and with some intensive soaking should still be fruitcake within about a month. It does get better with age, so if you can remember to make it in early November and give it more time to sit, you’ll be rewarded with a sweet, lightly spiced fruitcake that just might change your mind about this classic.

Light Fruitcake

This is a big recipe and makes a goodly amount of fruitcake. About 5 pounds worth actually. I’ve found it helps to combine the wet with the dry ingredients in two batches and do the final mixing in one bowl once he batter is mostly moistened. Otherwise you’ll need the muscles of a stevedore to mix the batter.

Adapted from The King Arthur Flour 200th Anniversary Cookbook

• 4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour (King Arthur preferred, natch)
• 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon nutmeg
• 1 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
• 3 to 4 cups or 1 1/2 pounds of pecan halves
• Up to 5 cups (2 1/2 pounds) of dried and candied fruit. I generally use a combination of crasins, chopped apricots, dried cherries, dates, golden raisins, candied orange and lemon peel, citron (if I have it) and dried or candied pineapple
• 2 sticks butter (unsalted), softened
• 2 1/4 cups sugar
• 6 large eggs
• 3 tablespoons rum

More rum for maturing process

Preheat the oven to 275 degrees.

Mix together the flour, baking powder, spices and salt. After mixing, divide the dry ingredients into two large bowls. Then add half the nuts and fruit to each bowl. You don’t need to be exact because it will eventually all get combined again anyway.

I also had some orange peel and powdered lemon peel from Penzey’s Spices in my refrigerator so I threw in a little of that this year. I wonder if I’ll be able to taste it.

I usually go a little light on the nuts so the proportion of batter to ingredients leans a little more to the cake side. But I screwed up this year and added more pecans than normal so we’ll see if we like it as well this way.

Using your electric mixer, cream the butter until it’s light. Add the sugar, about a cupful at a time, beating until the mixture is light and lemon colored. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating after each addition until the batter is fluffy. Blend in the rum.

Now spoon about half of the wet into each of the fruit and nut combinations. Stir each bowl until roughly combined then pour one bowl into the other to finish mixing. Believe me it’s easier to work with half the batter to start with.

Grease and flour your selected pans well. I use 3 different size pans: 3 x 5 or 4 x 7 for gifts, and 5 X 9 for us. Fill your selected pans about two-thirds full and bake for about 2 to 2.5 hours or until golden.

Maturing the cake

As soon as the cakes come out of the oven, pour more rum over the top. How much rum? Maybe a tablespoon on the small cakes and 2 – 3 tablespoons on the bigger cakes. You be the judge. Once it has soaked in, remove the cakes from their pans and let cool.

Be careful not to over bake your fruitcake as I think I may have done this year. The edges can always be trimmed but why waste any of that fruity goodness?

Once the cakes are completely cool, wrap in plastic and then aluminum foil. Store in a cool place. Every few days sprinkle with rum or apple juice.

While the recipe called for “sprinkling” the cake with rum, I’m more of a pour-it-on kind of girl. This year I’m trying something new: I’ve been poking holes in the cake with a metal skewer and using the fine tip on my baster to inject liquid into the middle of the cake.  I’ll let you know how that works. So far it seems to be speeding up the process of maturing the cake.

When you can’t stand waiting any longer, slice and enjoy.

There. That’s how I make fruitcake that we actually enjoy. The matured cake tastes of lightly spiced sweet rum and fruit. The rum flavor is there, but it doesn’t knock you out. This cake keeps forever in the refrigerator and is excellent with a glass of milk or a cup of hot tea. I’m looking forward to the first slice in another couple of weeks.

ETA: I just weighed the cakes and this recipe actually makes seven pounds of fruitcake. It’s a good thing some of them are being given as presents. Also, for you fruitcake fans that haven’t yet found the perfect one, there’s another (and smaller) recipe that I’m going to try in the 2008 issue of Holiday Baking from Cook’s Illustrated (on sale now) called White Fruitcake. It doesn’t call for any alcohol, doesn’t have to mature and it’s steamed rather than baked, all of which sound intriguing. It relies heavily on candied cherries (bleah) so I’d replace those in my version.

Also, the idea of injecting the rum and/or apple juice appears to be working. The cakes are maturing much faster this year than they have in previous years, when I’ve just poured the liquid on the cakes. I think they may be ready to eat by next week.

Tags: fruitcake, recipe