I rise in defense of the humble fruitcake, whose reputation was so casually slandered on the Dec. 29 Opinion Exchange page ("It's not the flavor of odd holiday foods we crave, but the taste of home"). The author would have us believe that certain holiday foods are perpetrated merely through sentiment rather than good taste.
I dissent. The author lumps fruitcake, lutefisk and hog jowls as time-consuming, tasting terrible, smelling disgusting, and avoided by the most discerning palates at the table — 5-year-olds.
Pamela Hill Nettleton, meet my granddaughter, Eve, not yet 5. This was her second year of crafting fruitcakes, which are assembled in the bright interval between her preschool nap and dinner. We measure and she dumps. She keeps count to make sure I have the correct eight eggs called for in the 1900 New Orleans Picayune cookbook from which I've culled my constantly evolving recipe. In go the currants, craisins, almonds, dates, apricots, sultanas, and so on. This year she discovered the wonders of figs, cadging a few on the side. She also graduated to supervised operation of the electric mixer. Maybe next year she'll get to chop a few dates.
But get this, Pam. Preschooler Eve loves the finished product, the dressing of brandy notwithstanding. She loved it as soon as it was baked, and she eagerly took me up on it at Christmas dinner.
In my opinion, fruitcake suffers from its reputation. People love to disparage it because they grew up hearing it disparaged, much like the accordion or the banjo. But have they tried a citron-free fruitcake that combines the healthy ingredients we sprinkle into our menus year-round — the raisins we consume with our bran, the craisins we fold into our trail mix, the apricots we cook into our oatmeal?
Haven't we learned by now as a society to walk in someone else's shoes before we condemn? It's time to taste before we judge. I'll try your lutefisk or pig jowls if you indulge my fruitcake.
Steve Brandt, Minneapolis
The writer is a former Star Tribune reporter.
GOV. MARK DAYTON
His legacy will be that he fought for the common person. An anecdote:
As Gov. Mark Dayton's time in office winds down, I feel compelled to share my personal observations about his leadership and why this wealthy and powerful politician will always be remembered as a "man of the people."