According to the National Day of Calendar many people receive fruitcakes as gifts sometime during the holiday season. Some people eat the holiday bread. Others may re-gift them. There are those who sneakily throw them away and others who will do so openly. But on the third day of January, another type of fruitcake, ahem, person comes out of the woodwork.  These are the characters who have hoarded them, stored them and hid them so they can celebrate National Fruitcake Toss Day. The idea being, see how far you can throw one of the hard disks.

I’m wondering how fruitcake got such a bad rep. I have a recipe which includes molasses, orange juice, nuts and candied fruit that I make in mini-muffin cups. Currently there are some in the freezer and on days like today when it is 20 degrees in western New York and going to get colder, I get one out and enjoy it morsel by morsel with a hot cup of coffee. I learned to make them over thirty years ago and each time I eat one, I remember the wonderful lady that gave me the recipe. I envision the Mother’s Days we went to dinner at once in a life-time restaurants in Washington state while I lived there.

When I was a kid my mother made wonderful fudge and date-nut bread that we gave to friends and delivery men at Christmas time. You know, back then our milk man came to the door before we were out of bed and the Charlie Chip man came to the door too. The mail-man didn’t because our town was so small one had to walk or drive to the post office to get the mail. We lived next door to it, so that was my job. I hand delivered their  goodies.

I digress. I can remember getting fruit cake that no one ate but I don’t remember any specific day to toss it. We didn’t eat it because we were home-made snobs. Store-bought items rarely have the same flavor or texture as home-made. I still fit in that category. I’m guessing my mother ate the fruitcake as she didn’t believe in wasting anything, or she secretly tossed it, maybe out to the birds.

I can remember classmates complaining about getting small individual fruitcakes in their stockings. The attitude was, “Who eats that Stuff?” Maybe the older folks liked it better than us kids. I don’t know. I do know some was so bad that even with melted butter on it, it wasn’t pleasant. Now I’m wondering if the poor fruitcake will ever get a good reputation. I think I’ll call what’s in my freezer mini-muffins just to be safe.