Hi there.  It’s fruitcake season in Under a Red Roof country, but don’t all of you holler in excitement at once, we might lose a bulb!  Just kidding.  Seriously though, if you’ve ever had really good fruitcake, you’d probably be as excited as I am.  I love fruitcake.  Well, to be more precise, I love my fruitcake, as I have yet to eat any others that warranted admiration.  I remember the first time I tried it.  It was at Grandma Tess’s house.  On a beautiful tray of sweets (my family, especially my mom, did amazing things with flour, butter, and sugar when I was a kid, and not just at Christmas) were slices of cake so beautiful as to be kaleidoscopic.  I put a piece on my plate, along with susperos, fudge, Holiday Cake, Peanut Brittle, and Christmas Crescents.  I took one bite of the fruitcake and thought I might die from disgust.  It was utterly saturated with booze, maybe whiskey (my appreciation came much later), and had an awful spongy texture, not to mention the weird, otherworldly “fruits” studding it.  How could it be?  It looked so beautiful and inviting to actually be so wicked.  Thank goodness for the other sweets on my plate and a bit of eggnog to get rid of the hell in my mouth.  As you might imagine, I swore it off from that point.  It turned out that Johnny Carson was right.  I just didn’t get the joke until I ate it.

Thankfully, Martha Stewart had an article on fruitcakes and their ultimate worthiness, gosh, maybe it was ten years ago?  I don’t remember.  She described, nearly to the letter, the awful experience I’d had years earlier and why, if I made her cakes, that all would be fine.  And it was.  I’ve made these variations nearly every year since, pleasing many non-believers (including the hubster) in the process.  These are dense, moist, and rich cakes, allowed to bathe in sherry, rum, or brandy for a month’s time, before being slowly devoured, slice by slice, with a nice cup of hot tea.  They are so worth the time and care.

Sherried Fruit Cake

2 cups softened butter

2 cups sugar

4 cups flour, sifted

5 eggs

1 1/2 cups blanched slivered almonds

1 1/2 pounds candied citrus peel (look for the tubs in the produce section) I use one each of orange, lemon, and citron

zest of 1 lemon and 1 orange

1 tablespoon vanilla

3 tablespoons sherry, plus more for weekly dousing (don’t use cooking sherry!)

1 package cheesecloth

Preheat oven to 300 degrees.  Grease six mini-loaf pans.  Cream together the butter and sugar until fluffy.  Add eggs, one at a time.  Stir in vanilla, sherry, and citrus zest.  Add flour, one cup at a time, just until blended.  Add candied citrus and almonds, mix well to combine.  Divide batter between prepared pans.  Bake until golden and a skewer comes out clean, about 1 hour fifteen minutes.  Douse each cake with 1 tablespoon of sherry and allow to cool.  Remove from pans.  As you can see in the photo, I use a large plastic tub that slides under the bed (you’ll need to store them in a cool, dark place) and line the bottom with cheesecloth, place the cakes, and then use another layer of cheesecloth over the top.  Of course, you can use any configuration you like, but this has been the most efficient for me.  Douse each cake with another tablespoon of sherry once a week for the next month.  The syringe pictured is ever so helpful in this endeavor.  The people at the pharmacy were kind enough to give it to me for free.  It keeps measurements precise and the the precious liquor from going anywhere but on the cakes, though a steady hand and a measuring spoon work pretty well, too.

Brandied or Rummied Fruitcake

2 cups softened butter

1 cup sugar

1 cup brown sugar

4 cups flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 1/2 cups blanched slivered almonds (walnuts or pecans would work well, too)

1 pound mixed dried fruit – I use cherries, cranberries, golden raisins, blueberries, and apricots.   Whatever fruits you choose, keep them at about the same size, dicing apricots or pineapple, so as not to overwhelm the flavors of the other fruits.  As the hubster would tease me – it is all about even distribution!

1 tablespoon vanilla

3 tablespoons brandy or dark rum, plus more for dousing

The directions here are pretty much identical, just sift the baking powder and flour together, mixing the rest of the ingredients (but no zest this time) and baking, dousing, and storing as you would for the sherried version.  Hopefully you’ll give them a try.  They really are worth it.

Enjoy!

Hi friends – happy Tuesday afternoon to you!  I’m just beginning to see – now I’m on my way.  It doesn’t matter to me, chasing the clouds away…  Okay, sorry, any other fans of that Moody Blues song?  I think I nearly overdid it in high school, but right now, it is a-ok.

I love squash, well, winter squash, definitely not spaghetti or zucchini.  Though I will eat zucchini if it is in the spicy bread of summer or sliced impossibly thin and deep fried, so it isn’t actually zucchini anymore.  Otherwise it is just icky.  So often, in summer, I am drawn to a roasted vegetable salad or sandwich only to be disappointed by the fact that it contains zucchini.  I don’t care to ingest slime with my supper, thankyouverymuch.  That goes for eggplant, too, save the smoky goodness of baba ganouj.  That I could eat all day.  I really think I could.

Anyway, to winter squash – the kuri, kabocha, acorn, sugar pumpkin, delicata, hubbard, I love them all.  The only problem is my imagination.  Despite all the pretty packaging, they get a little redundant when I’m making the same few dishes over and over again.  So here is a little something different and mighty good.  When I told the hubster what I was making and his response was just ho-hum, let me tell you that it went off the charts once he tasted them, more like inhaled.  Yep.  I don’t think he’ll mind these coming up in the rotation in the near future, no sirree.

The pancake part is adapted from the Big Book of Vegetarian, the sauce is my own idea, the veritable cherry on top.

Squash and Potato Pancakes

2 cups grated russet potatoes (good and starchy to hold it all together)

2 cups grated winter squash (I used kuri, but delicata, butternut, kabocha, or acorn would work well, too)

1/2 cup grated onion

2 teaspoons salt

1 egg

3 tablespoons whole wheat flour

1/8 teaspoon nutmeg

1 teaspoon dried sage or 1 tablespoon fresh chopped leaves

1/2 teaspoon black pepper

oil for the pan

Sauce

1/2 cup maple syrup

1 tablespoon butter

1 teaspoon curry powder

generous pinch of salt (I used my favorite alder smoked sea salt)

If you have a food processor, I definitely recommend grating the potato, squash, and onion with it, otherwise your hand is going to ache.  The voice of experience is speaking here.  Place grated potato, squash, and onion in a colander.  Sprinkle with salt and toss to combine.  Allow to sit for about fifteen minutes, squeezing out as much of the moisture as you can.  In a medium bowl, beat the egg with the sage, pepper, and nutmeg.  Gradually add the flour, so there are no lumps.  Add the potato mixture.  It will be kind of dry.  If you’d like a more moist pancake, add some milk, but as is, it will be firm, crispy, and yummy good.

Heat a griddle or skillet and oil it generously.  Spoon the desired amount of batter and flatten as best you can, so it cooks evenly.  I made mine about 3″ across and got ten of them.  Flip over once browned to cook the other side.  It’s a pancake.  You know what to do.  Unless you have a giant griddle, or are making tiny pancakes (great for appetizers!), place pancakes in a 200 degree oven to keep warm. While everything is sizzling or staying cozy in the oven, place the maple syrup, salt, curry powder, and butter in a small saucepan over medium heat.  Stir until the butter is melted and well combined with the other ingredients.  Drizzle over the pancakes and eat right away.  You won’t regret it!

You could also serve these with Greek yogurt or sour cream.  Oh golly, my mouth is watering just thinking about it.  Enjoy!