Friday, December 02, 2005

Fruitcake Virgin

I have never ever seen a fruitccake in my entire life until today.
No wonder people made fun of it, what the hell is it?
I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye today at the store, at first glance I thought it was a fire starter log, on closer inspection it turned out to be the dreaded fruitcake.

Do people really give these as gifts to other people? Is it that common of a gift, because it has been a running joke for years that nobody likes them and they suck. Plus, what the hell is in them? I think I saw a petrified cherry along with some petrified green things. What fruit is green?

Well, maybe now I have seen everything.

7 comments:

  1. ssssshhhhhhh.... my MIL makes pretty good fruitcake. I likeeee....

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  2. Ur right about it being weird looking and the butt of jokes but after watching unwrapped on the Food Network I learned that thousands of them are purchased every Holiday season. I guess there has to be someone out there that like that stuff. I am not one of them though.

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  3. You actually SAW a real live fruitcake?!! I thought they were an urban legend, like Big Foot and UFO's. LMAO Did you find out what the petrified green things were by any chance?

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  4. I am wondering who the people are who actually spend money for their family members to be disapointed.....

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  5. That is one food I have never tried just because of how bad it looks!

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  6. you only ever have to buy one and then it forever more circulates in your circle of friends....

    the green things are marachino cherries. they come in many, many toxic choices...

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  7. I suspect that the fruitcake you spied was light brown in color and you could see red bits of cherry, a piece of a pecan or other nut here and there, and the occassional glimpse of green whatever-that-green-jelly-like-crap is they put in fruitcakes. Those cakes look harmless enough. But sometimes as a child, when Christmas neared, it became fruitcake season at my house. Grandma invaded our kitchen and for two to three days, batches of fruitcake batter were created so large that they were mixed with a canoe paddle (honest). Unlike the light brown fruitcakes in stores, these were so dark that the cherries and nuts and green-thingies were only identifiable on close examination. Perhaps it was that the cakes were so heavy that light had trouble escaping from their surface. In any event, unfortunate relatives were enlisted to come over and take shifts monitoring the oven around the clock until all of the fruitcakes were baked. Even less fortunate relatives received one of these cakes as their Christmas present. I was only a small lad when this was occurring, but I can recall that it was all so very necessary to make fruitcakes and that it took many bottles of whiskey to make them. I can still recall my grandma individually wrapping dozens of these great ten pound lumps of indigestion in layers of brown paper, then proudly inscribing the name and address of a distant relative on the paper and taking them to the post office. Perhaps it was the combination of my disdain for the awful taste of the cakes, or my tender years, but I always imagined Uncle Roger in California calling out to his wife, "Hey Bessie, come see. Somebody shit in the mailbox!"

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