Dear Reader,
Today's the last day of November, so with this week's giveaway, we're getting ready for December...with snow! Two lucky readers will win a package of Let it Snow Instant Snow Powder, for indoor use. It's a special treat for folks like me, who live in warm-winter climates. To enter the Instant Snow Giveaway, click here.
It was very difficult to choose the winners in this year's Write a DearReader Contest because the quality of writing was outstanding. Today's Honorable Mention piece was written by Maureen Jane Orr. Thanks Maureen for sharing your story with us.
GRANDMA'S FRUITCAKE
Although fruitcake seems to have developed a bad reputation as a hard, tasteless hunk that is presented as a gift only to someone who is not liked, in my family, fruitcake has a reputation that brings back precious family memories. Our Grandma Kitty immigrated to our country from County Mayo in the late 1800's. She did not bring much with her, but she did bring a recipe for fruitcake, a family tradition.
When I was a kid, I began helping my mother and grandmother with the preparations for this dessert. It began when we took the trolley downtown to the Italian grocery shop where there were long strings hanging from the ceiling with dried fruits, including dates, figs, cherries, and pineapple. Once the many ingredients were assembled on the dining room table, the night before, preparation of the ten pans began. This was a very time-consuming task undertaken before all the easy sprays that we have today. Old paper bags were cut to fit into the pans and rubbed with butter to prevent sticking. Also, raisins and currents were soaked with sherry overnight, too, and the amazing aromas began.
The date for preparing the fruitcakes was also important. It was always on "All Souls Day," the day after Halloween, November 1. This date was important for two reasons: 1. School was off in order to attend church and pray for the departed souls (we attended Catholic school) and 2. The cakes needed to be prepared weeks ahead of Christmas for them to be truly delicious.
Grandma always arrived early, walking the 2 short blocks from her home to ours. The room-temperature butter was whipped, then combined with white and brown sugars, honey and coffee. If Mom turned her back for a second you could be sure at least one of us would have sneaked a taste! Little by little the eggs were incorporated followed by the flour mixed with spices, then all of the fruits and nuts. Ten pans were filled with the batter and slow baked at 250 degrees for almost 4 hours. In my mind I can almost smell the amazing aroma from these cakes. Once cooled, Mom wrapped each cake in cheesecloth then sprinkled them with sherry prior to placing them in large containers in the cool basement. Christmas Eve arrived and along with cookies placed near the tree for Santa Claus, Mom unwrapped a fruitcake so that we could tell Christmas was finally here!
I continued the family tradition of making the fruitcakes and mailed some throughout the country to folks who had developed a taste and love of our family fruitcakes. One year I told my husband, "I cannot continue doing this. It is too exhausting." However, when visiting Ireland, we were driving down long country roads when we saw a sign for a cafe. We were thirsty for a warm drink and drove and drove to locate the advertised cafe when we finally spotted it high on a hill. Gratefully, we stopped and ordered hot tea. The proprietor asked "and a piece of cake?" Low and behold, she pulled out the dark, familiar cake and cut big slices for us. Tears in my eyes, I said to my husband, "How can I stop making fruitcakes? They are part of my history, my blood, my family." Now, I make 20 fruitcakes every November, wrapping, mailing and consuming cakes, laden with history and family.
Maureen Jane Orr
Honorable Mention, 2020 Write a DearReader Contest
Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.
Suzanne Beecher
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KIDSBUZZ: Click here to discover new books, "meet" the authors and enter to win.
This month's Penguin Classics book is The Cancer Journals, by Audre Lorde, with a foreword by Tracy K. Smith. I have a copy to share with you, so start reading and enter today.
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