My husband loves fruitcake, even the bad kind. He’d get cakes from the supermarket. They were a bit bigger than a stick of butter, and filled with neon colored candied fruit. When sliced thin and held to the light, it looked like stained glass made by an inept craftsman. The fruit always reminded me of the rumor (shared by my second grade classmates) that maraschino cherries were preserved in formaldehyde, and this, even though I knew better as an adult, set off a knee-jerk reaction in me each time my hubby ate fruitcake.
He eventually found a mail order company that specialized in nuts and dried fruit, and it offered a good fruitcake, but at a steep price. I began a search for a decent fruitcake recipe, and confirmed that these “cakes” were little more than an aggregate of fruit and nuts held together by a suspension of flour and rum. I also learned there were dark vs light colored fruitcakes, the dark variety using ingredients such as molasses and brown sugar. I could see how that distinction gave enough wiggle room for someone to say, “Dark fruitcake, you say? Well, there’s nothing darker than chocolate!” And that’s how I found a recipe for Chocolate Fruitcake. I tweaked it a bit by adding black cocoa powder, and use only dried cherries (soaked in kirsch, not rum), and pistachios. My hubby loves this version, but still hankers for the lighter, more traditional type, so I bake blond ones for him, too. No rum, though, he hates rum. He takes his fruitcake with a shot of Cointreau on the side.
If Snowball put on a red suit, he could almost look like Santa Claus. Well, maybe it’d be better to call him Satan Claus, given how much he wants to crush Christmas.
I like to think that the actor who plays Brad, when he takes off the wiglet and mustache at the end of a shoot, can walk around unrecognized by fans of the show. He’s probably a real sweet kitty, he just very good at playing a Bad One.
The trees look like they’re made of bits of everything: pompoms, felt, cushions, doilies, and maybe something nubby, like shag carpeting, or perhaps terry cloth. Very festive little holiday forest!
Kit, you forget to mention that Mr. T is also thin-skinned!