As a child, I was a mortal enemy of this “gross” cake, because it was decorated with “shiny red things” and was full of “yucky tasting” dried fruits (glace cherries and dried fruits). That didn’t stop me from sticking my fingers into the batter and trying it for myself, however. It was a dense and brothy mixture, mildly bitter and slightly creamy that just hit the spot with a seven-year-old, who is perpetually hanging out for something sweet and oily to please the palate. If the time and scene was right, I would also stuff my face with a helping of the dried fruits, sifting through to make sure that I had collected only the juiciest raisins, dates, sultanas, cherries, citrus rinds and papaya pieces. It seems fairly silly that I enjoyed the dried fruit and the cake batter, but not the final product itself. When we’re young, these treasures of good times are scarcely truly appreciated, and I am thankful that I have grown to admire this traditional recipe and to hold its oath by presenting it here for you. My earliest recollections of this recipe include a large cauldron of bubbling, foaming syrup with swirls of candied fruits and the measuring container that always had to be precisely measured with the quantities of caster sugar, unsalted butter and vanilla essence. My mother would repeat to me the same things time and time again; she would tell me to stir it vigorously or it will burn, to calibrate the measuring device before using it, to grease the pan carefully and a reminder to make a bain marie out of the kitchen sink with cold water, not boiling hot.
What makes this particular boiled fruit cake special is all given in how light but filling the final product turns out. Many experiences with store-bought Christmas cakes, from $15 to $45, find that they are full of unnecessary ingredients, emulsifiers and fats, on top of being overcooked and laden with sugar, which collectively make for a parched-dry, sour and bland slice. It is my personal belief that our Christmas cake turns out so well because it contains only the simplest ingredients of the kitchen, the most basic of baking methods and a liberal application of fun, festivity and love. This recipe stands as a crux upon other Christmas cakes and treats because of the tradition it is backed by: a dedication to pouring in the good things and being versatile enough to accompany the winter and summer Christmas seasons by either being served cold (with a dash of icing sugar or, preferably, without) or served warm, with a generous helping of warm brandy or rum custard.
In the spirit of the season, my mother and I would bake several of these same boiled fruit cakes to give to family and friends as presents, who would have placed an order with us as early as a month before. On baking days, the oven would be set to a high temperature and all the windows and doors would be open, meaning that we sweltered in a Sydney summer over the stove, the countertop and still managed to pour our festivity into every mixture. We would serve them in baking paper to preserve the aroma and advise them to not eat it all as soon as it arrived — it was much harder than it sounds! To this day, my grandmother places her order in before anybody else and usually orders two or three cakes instead of one: that way, she can devour the first, serve the second to her friends and keep the third one in an air-tight container so that the ageing process would mature the sugars and cream and make for a sumptuously moist, crumbly and fluffy cake. In fact, at the time of writing I am preserving my fruit cake in the cupboard in an air-tight container… though I have been less successful than my grandmother this year, given that I have been too impatient and decided to have a few slices now and leave the rest for later!
It all began, as my mother says, in home economics class. As she had been paying attention as studiously as possible, this recipe has withstood the test of time and as the teacher promised, brought many, many returns now and into the future. Of course, a few important rules need to be followed when making this cake as great as it is: when popping the mixture in the bain marie, a common problem is letting the egg to ‘cook’ in the flour and fruit mixture before it has been given enough time to cool down.At high temperatures the egg, water and flour bond and begin to coagulate in a stubborn, sticky mess. The vanilla essence always goes into the cold mixture, not the cooking mixture, as the flavour is lost rapidly over the stove. Finally, without the best quality of ingredients, including the most expensive and close to natural (meaning sulphite-free if possible) dried fruits are necessary — too many times have we tried to get away with substandard brands for our fruits and been disappointed with the result. Timing and consistency are the key to this recipe being a success, time and time again.
INGREDIENTS
125g butter
2 whole eggs, beaten
450g (or 500g) mixed fruit
1 tablespoon boiling water
1 teaspoon mixed spice
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon vanilla essence
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon bicarbonate of soda1 cup caster sugar
1 cup self-raising flour
2 cups plain flour
pinch sugar
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