It's no joke. I love fruitcake. I love it in spite of the fact that one of my earliest memories is when I upchucked it in a store while Christmas shopping with my grandmother. I still remember the humiliation and tears. My Meme learned the hard way that grape soda and fruitcake is not a good combo for five year olds.
Every year I make my own on Thanksgiving weekend and store it away until about a week before Christmas.
I give my sweet little loaves a light dunking in corn syrup boiled with water and brandy before they get wrapped.
One loaf for me. One for Number One Son-who is also a fruitcake junkie and one for Middle Sister. No one else I know can tolerate even the tiniest taste which is fine. More for me.
I should also mention that is one of my handwoven dishtowels underneath. The fact that I can do that stuff still tickles me to death.