Punishment

So a few weeks ago, my cousin Chrissy stopped by CO to visit with my side of the family. It was great to spend time with her, while getting each other caught up on all the goings on with each of our families. While she was in CO, she stayed with my parents, as did I.

One afternoon during my cousins 4 day visit, my mother decided that we were having too much fun, and thought that forcing Chrissy and I to make fruit cake from scratch would be just the thing to bring us down a few notches. We tried to explain that nobody eats fruit cake any more (assuming they ever did), but mom was resolute. She also insisted that fruit cakes are much more appetizing if, after baking, they are soaked in bourbon or brandy for 2 to 4 weeks.

Well we set to work. As my culinary skills are right on par with the Swedish Chef from the Muppet Show, I was assigned the more simplistic tasks (best for all concerned). It took about 45 minutes, a lot of laughter, and moderate language (Grandma didn’t care for the language, but ah well).

I still have no idea if they are any good, as I have no intension of eating any of the fruit cake. Mom assured Chrissy that once the cakes were finished fermenting, she would ship her one. Lucky girl!