You've probably heard that there's like ten fruitcakes in the lower forty-eight states, and they just get passed around from one house to the next each year. I believe it. At least, I have done my best to further the rumor.
You see, every year my parents send me one. It comes in a cardboard box along with some Christmas presents. Now, don't get the wrong idea - my parents are great cooks. They used to teach bread making at a local community college. My dad even had his own cooking show!
The thing is - who wants to eat fruitcake?
This is this year's.
So like I said, I've continued spreading the rumor by taking fruitcakes and leaving them at Christmas parties around the country. Places like at my in-law's house, which happened to be the plan this year: to conveniently forget to take it home with us after it survived yet another Christmas unscathed.
But dag blast it if mother-in-law Sue didn't get the better of me. When I wasn't looking, she stuffed the uneaten fruitcake in the bottom of one of our bags.
You can imagine my surprise when I saw the fruitcake staring up at me in between a Lego car and a T-ball set when we got home.
I'll get you next time, Sue.
So a couple days ago I was hungry. And since we had just returned from said in-laws house, we hadn't gone to the grocery store yet. My options were few; and like I previously mentioned, the fruitcake was staring at me.
I sliced myself a butt end. Lathered about a 1 to 1 ratio of butter to bread. And took a bite. It was unbelievable.
I almost didn't want to tell anybody because I wanted it all to myself. But Anna Rose caught me. And now she likes it. Lia still won't give it a try, and Dave Dave doesn't eat anything so hey - more for me.
All this to say - thanks mom and dad for the fruitcake. And to the rest of you, try something new in 2013. You never know, you might like it!
One less fruitcake in circulation!