Kitchen, tomorrow. I should say, “the rest of the kitchen.” I got to the cleaning up part and only stuffed the trash bag, so tomorrow, I’ll see what other trouble I can get into in there. Like maybe make a fruitcake...
My mother used to make fruitcake using the candied fruits, which I just hated. The cake was good but the fruits were gross. But she made it every year. My Unreal Brother decided he was going to make some one year, not too long before he began showing signs of dementia.
So he followed the recipe to the letter except for one ingredient. The brandy. She would make this hugh batch of the stuff right after Thanksgiving, and when it had cooled, she would pour brandy over it and then wrap it up as tightly as she could to preserve the flavor of the brandy. It also produced a very moist, very dense fruitcake. Come Christmas morning and the cakes that she hadn’t given away were sliced and served.
My Unreal Brother thought those were the best fruitcakes in the world! But he couldn’t figure out why his was dry and rather tasteless. Of course, after a month, all the alcohol would have been evaporated from the cakes, but he never got the connection, and couldn’t figure out why his didn’t quite taste like hers. ;o]
My mouth still cringes when I think of the taste of those candied fruits.
Sounds like those that couldn't be served for Christmas would have made good boat anchors.