I love nothing more than rising early on a Sunday morning to put a cake in the oven, sweet sticky goodness all lovingly churned together in a bowl, then popping it in the oven where it emulates its feel good pheromones through its powerful aroma. It seeps slowly out of the furnace of the oven intoxicating every room in the house like a powerful love potion, eventually reaching the highly sensitive nostrils of R but instead of awakening abruptly and craving any form of baked goodness, I believe it gently relaxes the body and mind to help slumber a little longer whilst comforting smells fill your entire torso.
This particular Sunday greeted me with the sounds of heavy beads of water battering down on the windows and werewolf type howls of wind eerily pushing their way through the wood opposite us. On a working day these sounds fill me with dread, heartbreakingly knowing that I'm to battle with Mother Nature outside all day. However, being my day off, a Cheshire Cat grin covered my face as I crept down the stairs with my thoughts directed to baking something to only further my contentment.
There is one cake I can always rely on, one that lends itself to these particularly horrid wet days, one that never lets me down and always manages to tempt the more fussy eaters - Granddad's Fruit Loaf.
R's Grandad was the epitome of what a farming man should be, he had a strong work ethic, building up and maintaing a successful dairy farm whilst at the same time providing for the community as the mayor of the local town.
I only had the great pleasure of meeting him quite late on his life when he was into his early nineties. Before R and I were a couple my friend and I would help the dear ageing man in his garden all with the promise of tea and cakes when we were done. He was a keen vegetable gardener, being successful at growing gooseberries, potatoes and masses of broad beans, not that this meant he would neglect the rest of his garden which was abundant with magnificent multicoloured roses.
He was also specifically fond of challenging the WI ladies in the local shows, winning hands down every time with his outstanding jams, chutneys and cake, I'm just sorry I didn't know him long enough to try and entice his sacred recipes out of him.
In recent years R has managed to track down one - The Fruit Loaf .
I may have seen R's Grandad scrape mould off food and pull maggots out of cheese before eating it (which did nothing to shorten his life, he lived to the grand old age of 95) but this was the cake that made weeding his garden seem like a pitiful job for such a grand reward. Not too intensely dense like most fruit cakes and without that unpleasantly crunch of what feels like grit against your teeth from some dried old current this fruit loaf is tender and juicy. If you can wait a day to eat it do, as this just adds more softness to the loaf that is inexplicably (because the recipe is beyond easy) delicious.
Granddad's Fruit Loaf (pre metric!)
1 cup of milk.
1 cup of sugar - you can use any but I prefer to use soft brown sugar as it adds a caramel flavour.
2 cup of mixed fruit - again it is preference but I prefer to use one from Julian Graves that just contains raisins and sultanas (no peel).
4 oz margarine.
2 cups self raising flour.
1 beaten egg.
A few glace cherries - I tend to go a bit overboard with these as I find it only causes arguments if each slice of cake does not have a cherry in it.
Pre-heat the oven to 160 degrees c (fan).
Add the milk, sugar, mixed fruit and margarine to a pan and slowly bring to the boil.
Take off the heat and leave it to cool - resist all temptation to add the flour to early as it cooks the flour and gives the cake a burnt taste.
Grease and line a large loaf tin.
Once cool sieve the flour into the ingredients, add the cherries and the beaten egg then stir until just combined.
Place into the loaf tin and, as no times were given with this recipe, I tend to first check it at 30 minutes then at every 5-10 minutes after that, inserting a skewer in the middle of the cake to detect when it is done (the skewer should come out clean, if there is wet mixture on the skewer leave for another few minutes before checking again).
If you feel the top of your cake is beginning to brown too much at the 30 minute mark, place a piece of foil over the top.
This particular Sunday greeted me with the sounds of heavy beads of water battering down on the windows and werewolf type howls of wind eerily pushing their way through the wood opposite us. On a working day these sounds fill me with dread, heartbreakingly knowing that I'm to battle with Mother Nature outside all day. However, being my day off, a Cheshire Cat grin covered my face as I crept down the stairs with my thoughts directed to baking something to only further my contentment.
There is one cake I can always rely on, one that lends itself to these particularly horrid wet days, one that never lets me down and always manages to tempt the more fussy eaters - Granddad's Fruit Loaf.
R's Grandad was the epitome of what a farming man should be, he had a strong work ethic, building up and maintaing a successful dairy farm whilst at the same time providing for the community as the mayor of the local town.
I only had the great pleasure of meeting him quite late on his life when he was into his early nineties. Before R and I were a couple my friend and I would help the dear ageing man in his garden all with the promise of tea and cakes when we were done. He was a keen vegetable gardener, being successful at growing gooseberries, potatoes and masses of broad beans, not that this meant he would neglect the rest of his garden which was abundant with magnificent multicoloured roses.
He was also specifically fond of challenging the WI ladies in the local shows, winning hands down every time with his outstanding jams, chutneys and cake, I'm just sorry I didn't know him long enough to try and entice his sacred recipes out of him.
In recent years R has managed to track down one - The Fruit Loaf .
I may have seen R's Grandad scrape mould off food and pull maggots out of cheese before eating it (which did nothing to shorten his life, he lived to the grand old age of 95) but this was the cake that made weeding his garden seem like a pitiful job for such a grand reward. Not too intensely dense like most fruit cakes and without that unpleasantly crunch of what feels like grit against your teeth from some dried old current this fruit loaf is tender and juicy. If you can wait a day to eat it do, as this just adds more softness to the loaf that is inexplicably (because the recipe is beyond easy) delicious.
Granddad's Fruit Loaf (pre metric!)
1 cup of milk.
1 cup of sugar - you can use any but I prefer to use soft brown sugar as it adds a caramel flavour.
2 cup of mixed fruit - again it is preference but I prefer to use one from Julian Graves that just contains raisins and sultanas (no peel).
4 oz margarine.
2 cups self raising flour.
1 beaten egg.
A few glace cherries - I tend to go a bit overboard with these as I find it only causes arguments if each slice of cake does not have a cherry in it.
Pre-heat the oven to 160 degrees c (fan).
Add the milk, sugar, mixed fruit and margarine to a pan and slowly bring to the boil.
Take off the heat and leave it to cool - resist all temptation to add the flour to early as it cooks the flour and gives the cake a burnt taste.
Grease and line a large loaf tin.
Once cool sieve the flour into the ingredients, add the cherries and the beaten egg then stir until just combined.
Place into the loaf tin and, as no times were given with this recipe, I tend to first check it at 30 minutes then at every 5-10 minutes after that, inserting a skewer in the middle of the cake to detect when it is done (the skewer should come out clean, if there is wet mixture on the skewer leave for another few minutes before checking again).
If you feel the top of your cake is beginning to brown too much at the 30 minute mark, place a piece of foil over the top.
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