Saturday everyone --of the female persuasion anyway--gathered at Theresa's to make the cakes. It is a tradition--we've somehow created and kept going by ourselves, without the driving force of our English mother who didn't think there could be Christmas if there was no fruitcake made.
As the cooking gets going, the cooks get silly. The women here were unaware of Christopher lurking in the back of them when I took the picture.
So what were they laughing at?
Mary (in red) didn't make the cakes--she baked cookies to mail to soldiers.
Judy was sure her cake needed more flour, but how much? "Add a cup," Maggie said. "How do you know it needs that much? Judy asked, kind of sassy. She picked up the bag of flour and tipped it up--and out fell a measuring cup! Obviously, her batter needed a cup of flour!
My granddaughter Katie(top right) enjoys seeing Aunt Julie getting down as she stirs Judy's batter and makes her wishes. Each of us stirred the others' batter, so we got to wish three times. Kate is stirring my batter. The three bowls were different in color even though we used the same ingredients. Maggie's was the darkest, mine medium and Judy's was lightest.
One loaf, unwrapped and I admit it, sampled just a little bit. Definitely not ready to eat yet--it still had a raw flavor.
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