It’s the Holiday Season! Parties are being planned by office lackeys all over the country. Workers are requested to bring their favorite goodies, which usually consist of story bought fat laden dips with chips, cold cut platters with carrot and celery sticks and some kind of spiked fizzy punch with pieces of unidentifiable sherbet floating on top. I, for one, do not participate in such uninspired jocularity. Christmas is an important holiday. It’s not only the birthday of Christ but it also gave birth to the most maligned holiday dessert – the Christmas Fruitcake.
Now I can hear all of you gagging and making those weird “I HATE FRUITCAKE” faces but let me tell you a little story about the fruitcake.
Many years ago before the invention of the supermarket people bartered for food. They would walk miles to the outdoor markets with their produce strapped to their back hoping to turn a quick buck or shilling to get them through the winter months. Sometimes staying for days out in the cold they’d survive on assorted fruits and nuts. They also brought jugs of spirit for internal warmth. They’d generally end up with a throbbing head and no buyers for their fruits.
As the days went by the fruit began to wither and dry. To re-hydrate said fruits they’d poured some of their spirits in a cup and soaked the shriveled produce. Unable to sell the dried fruits they’d pack up their things leaving empty handed and hungry.
As they journeyed home they’d forgotten about the liquor-soaked fruits. Their wives, waiting for them to return with pockets full of cash were very annoyed when they found out that not only didn’t they sell their fruits, they’d let it dry out so badly not even the liquor helped. In fact one wife was so enraged she threw the cup of fruit and it landed in her husband’s welcome home cake. The cake was baked and left overnight in a spirit soaked cloth to keep it from going moldy.
The next morning her husband still hungry from his journey sliced a large portion of the cake. He began to gag and as his face grimaced he asked, “What vile shit is this you made me woman?” She smirked and said, “It’s a fruitcake, and I shall make it every year to remind you of your failure and drunken stupidity.”
And so it began. The gagging, weird facial expressions that gave birth to the what we now call the Christmas fruitcake. Which reminds me of the Haiku his wife wrote:
Nuts and fruit went bad
My husband is an asshole
Happy Holidays and a very Merry Christmas to everyone at HumorOutcasts!