Even the most reticent cook finds himself
drawn to the kitchen during the holiday season. It’s time to
bring out the cookie cutters and colored sugars, the family gingerbread
and fruitcake recipes. Traditions vary from country to country
and family to family with most families establishing their own
traditions inspired by both their tastes and their ancestry.
In the Jewish tradition, fried desserts are the Hanukkah specialty.
Hanukkah commemorates the night there was only enough sacred
oil to light one of the menorah candles, and a miracle produced
enough for eight nights. The oil used for this frying also relates
to the end of the olive pressing at this time of year, according
to Joan Nathan, author of "The Jewish Holiday Baker."
Israeli sufganiyot are raised jelly doughnuts and were probably
adapted from the Greek loukomades – deep-fried puffs dipped in
honey or sprinkled with powdered sugar, according to Nathan.
Often, after the traditional latkes (potato pancakes) served
at Hanukkah, many Jewish families choose to serve something lighter
than a fried dish for dessert, like fruit and cookies.
Almost every nationality has a Christmas cookie. Here, the basic
sugar cookie cut into fanciful shapes with cookie cutters and
decorated with colored sugars and icing, is probably the most
popular. Gingerbread is also a favorite to make with cookie cutters
as well as for building houses decorated with candy and icing.
Gingerbread dates back to the Middle Ages when fair maidens would
present intricately shaped and decorated cookies as a favor to
knights going into tournaments. Today, in this country especially,
gingerbread can also be a dark, moist cake flavored with molasses,
ginger and other spices and often topped with lemon sauce or
whipped cream.
Molded cookies also make lovely holiday treats. Shortbread, the
delectably buttery Scottish specialty, takes beautifully to molds,
as do the German anise-flavored springerle (spring-uhr-lee).
French sable ("sand") cookies are another take on the
sugar cookie though they are more often shaped with cutters than
molded. For an extra-special Christmas effect, stained-glass
cookies, made with crushed rock candy inserted into openings
in sugar cookies, have the end result of a stained glass window
and make fun holiday gifts.
In France, the buche de Noel, or yule log, is a heavenly, rolled
chocolate cake filled with whipped cream and decorated with chocolate
icing. French bakeries compete for the most beautiful buche,
adorning them with meringue mushrooms, holly and gnomes made
of icing.
The British, of course, have their plum pudding and fruitcake
– the sort of heavy, rich desserts that go with their bleak,
winter climate. Plum pudding, traditionally made with suet, dried
currants, raisins, almonds and spices is served with hard sauce,
a combination of butter, sugar and either brandy, rum or whiskey,
and is served flaming for extra-special effect. Often charms
are put in the pudding – a babydoll, a heart, a bride – representing,
for those who find them in their portion, predictions for the
coming year.
A Wilkinson tradition
Everyone is familiar with the old joke about the solitary fruitcake
that makes the rounds from house to house at Christmas and goes
untouched, so undesirable that no one is tempted by it. Anyone
who buys into that story hasn’t tasted the real thing.
My family had a longstanding commitment to fruitcake beginning
in the fall when my mother would start frantically gathering
dried fruit and nuts with the gut-level instincts of a squirrel.
After my mother died, my husband, Ken, took over making the family
fruitcakes. Being English, Ken’s fruitcake heritage runs deep.
He had his own recollections of his mother’s fruitcake – the
English version, covered in marzipan and Royal Icing.
So, with the combined wisdom of two family traditions under his
belt, Ken took on fruitcake with his usual verve. Ken had acquired
excellent culinary skills as a very young man in the British
merchant marine, but as a result of that training, he has a tendency
to cook in huge quantities. Every year, Ken makes 20 to 30 fruitcakes
to give away as gifts, and every year the process stars sometime
in early November.
After the massive nut and fruit purchase comes the soaking of
the fruit. He borrows an enormous pot from a restaurateur friend
and soaks the fruit in dark Myers’s Rum for a couple of weeks.
That distinctly rich and engaging scent permeates the house from
top to bottom until the Sunday Ken sets aside for making the
cakes.
At some point, Ken started to combine making fruitcake with watching
football, and the whoops and yells of that activity punctuated
the sounds and smells of cooking, making it an annual ritual.
One year, he became so much more involved in a football game
than his fruitcake that he failed to notice our golden retriever
in the kitchen. Enticed there by the intoxicating aroma from
the oven and the lack of supervision, the dog proceeded to get
on the counter and polish off a good number of cakes before being
discovered by an irate Ken.
Needless to say, the dog, shamed for his misdemeanor and suffering
from the aftereffects of his gluttony, was banished to the outdoors
for many days, and Ken has since kept a closer eye on his cakes.
Like fine wines, Ken’s fruitcakes are remembered according to
their distinctive qualities and years. "This reminds me
of the ’89, so dark and moist," I remember overhearing one
friend comment to another.
Sure enough, most of our friends have indeed become followers.
Ken has managed to convert even the most avid fruitcake hater,
and I haven’t heard the joke about the lone, abandoned fruitcake
in years.
Dark fruitcake
Fruitcakes come in all sizes, shapes and colors, and recipes
can easily be adapted to suit individual needs. For those who
like the dark, moist variety, Ken’s recipe is perfection. For
a lighter cake, replace the figs and raisins with golden raisins
and dried apricots; honey can be substituted for dark molasses.
The spice level can also be adjusted to meet personal tastes.
3/4 cup chopped dried pears
3/4 cup chopped dried peaches
3/4 cup chopped dried figs
3/4 cup chopped dried dates
2/3 cup currants
15 oz. raisins
1 1/2 cup dark rum or cognac
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. ground allspice
1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg
1/4 tsp. ground cloves
4 oz. chopped candied fruit peel (orange, grapefruit, lemon or
mixture)
1/4 cup chopped candied ginger
1/4 cup chopped pecans
1/4 cup chopped almonds
1 cup butter
1 cup brown sugar
5 eggs
1/2 cup currant jelly
1/2 cup molasses
1/4 cup strong coffee
Soak dried fruit, currants and raisins overnight in 1 cup dark
rum or cognac, stirring occasionally. Drain fruit.
Grease 10-inch tube pan and 8-inch by 4-inch by 2-inch loaf pan.
Line bottom and sides of pans with brown paper to prevent over-browning;
grease paper.
In bowl, combine flour, salt, cinnamon, baking soda, baking powder,
allspice, nutmeg and cloves. Add fruit, candied peel, candied
ginger, pecans and almonds; mix well.
In mixing bowl, beat butter with electric mixer on medium to
high speed for 30 seconds. Add brown sugar and beat until well
combined. Add eggs, jelly and molasses and mix thoroughly.
Stir dry ingredients alternately into butter mixture with coffee
and the remaining 1/2-cup rum or cognac.
Divide batter between prepared pans. Bake in 300-degree oven
for 1 3/4 to 2 hours or until toothpick inserted near center
comes out clean. (After one hour, cover pans loosely with foil;
this will keep cakes from over-browning.)
Cool in pans on rack. Remove from pans. Wrap cakes in rum- or
cognac-soaked cheesecloth. Overwrap with foil. Store in cool,
dry place for two to eight weeks to mellow flavors. Re-moisten
cheesecloth about once a week or as needed.
Makes one 8-inch by 4-inch loaf and one 10-inch tube cake.