The mad(e)ness of Christmas cake

is something I should not even be contemplating right now but I am in the midst of trying to actually do it.

I almost never make cake of any sort. I am not an eater of cake. Yes, freshly baked cake is lovely but I cannot be bothered with the mess beforehand. Most people I know like cake well enough but I suppose we are all conscious of the "middle age spread". We are conscious of the need to eat sensibly and healthily. We might eat biscuits but not cake.

All this is true unless it is Christmas...and then there is cake. It has to be fruit cake of course. I might eat a sliver or two. I prefer shortbread for my Christmas munchie treats.

So, why do I make it? Why do I go through the laborious process of soaking fruit, beating butter and dark brown sugar, breaking in eggs one at a time and then adding flour and spices? It would be so much easier to just buy a cake from that charity which sells thousands of them. They make a good cake, or so people tell me.

No, cousin T... and his partner expect cake. It is my Christmas present to them. Middle Cat and her partner expect cake. Neither of them should be eating it but this is Christmas and they do not indulge in fruit cake at any other time. 

I use a very old recipe and I double it. If I double the number of ingredients it will make three good sized cakes or, more likely, two good sized cakes and then multiple small cakes to give to other people. I can give small cakes to elderly friends who no longer do any baking at all. 

So yes, in the midst of moving from one abode to another I am making cake...and at least, in the midst of all the madness, it smells like Christmas.