It has been a strange week. For the second week in a row, rain and sleet have alternated with suspiciously warm temperatures, and the emotional temperature of my city (and the whole country) has fluctuated just as much, with people out in the streets protesting the grand jury decisions in both Ferguson and Staten Island. My apartment was robbed (a comparatively minor incident, but one which left me feeling the usual degree of violated and confused), and a new baby was born in my family, seven weeks premature but already breathing on her own and beautiful. We are not fine, we are not safe, we are not cozy, and we are not alone. Upheavals and betrayals, community and joy. Heavy winds. Dear loves.
And fruitcake. This particular fruitcake is less of the classic alcohol-soaked candied fruit extravaganza, and more of a boozy apple cake with dried fruit in. With dark brown sugar, grated apples in the batter, and a rum soak after leaving the oven, it's a dark, sweet, strongly textured cake, sturdy enough to carry around all day.

I made the recipe two times, halving it both times. The first time I made it as an 8-inch cake round, and the second time as a dozen muffins. The first attempt, which was the one I carried around all day in my purse, was excellent, but slightly on the drier side (I skipped soaking the fruit because it was very soft), and would have benefited from additional syrup or rum. I was more careful the second time, soaking the dried fruit (prunes and cranberries) for the recommended time and keeping a tight eye on the baking. The resulting muffins were a perfect texture. Both times, I used cashew pieces in place of the recommended pecans, and added a handful of candied orange and lemon peel (the nice, not-harsh organic kind from the food coop). I know for some people this would negate the whole premise of a new kind of fruitcake, but I had them on hand and figured, why not? The candied fruit (in the muffin version) was actually a hit with several co-workers.

The first round was also a sleeper hit. I gave a wedge to my neighbor
Pam the Cheesemonger, whom I'd helped out with a little brunch earlier in the day. Her take: "This fruit cake is so good! I don't normally get excited about this kind of thing, but this is, well, exciting." She should know, she had just showed up on my doorstep with a container of truffled mascarpone, a bottle of Cotes du Rhone, and some dried trompettes that she had foraged earlier in the year in Maine. What on earth do I do with dried trompettes?
All in all, simple and delicious. Probably not adding this one to the regular rotation but it's a handy cake to have in the repertoire.