Far from the adventurous foodie I am today, I was a picky eater as a child. If something didn’t look good, I wouldn’t touch it. Even if it was a culinary masterpiece created by a world-renowned chef and loved by everyone, I was going nowhere near it. And I was happy to live my life this way until a fruit cake challenged everything I believed.
I’d never tasted a fruit cake but I had seen pictures plastered all over catalogs and grocery stores during Christmas time. First of all, the name itself didn’t sound appealing to my young ears. But, it was the pictures that sealed its fate. I had no idea what the red, green and yellow square-shaped thingamabobs were. What kind of fruit looked like that? Was it even real fruit? And where was the cake? It seemed there was way too much ‘fruit’ and nuts and not enough cake. My mind (and taste buds) refused to put such an abhorrence in my mouth. Until that fateful day when I had no choice.
I don’t remember if we were visiting a distant relative or one of my parent’s friends whom they hadn’t seen in a long time. As a child, I hated visiting my parent’s friends – unless they had kids my age. The couple in question had kids but they were significantly older which meant I spent the entire time trying to become my mother’s shadow. Typically, this works and the adults just leave me alone. But not this lady, for some reason she took it upon herself to make sure I was comfortable, and to her, that meant eating. I had already glanced at the snacks laid out in beautiful serving dishes and decided they were inedible. My parents, on the other hand, were happily drinking their teas and indulging in everything the hostess set out. While my plate stayed empty, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by the hostess, who went out of her way to do something about it. And her very first offer was a slice of fruit cake.
If she hadn’t said it was fruit cake, I wouldn’t have known. It looked very different from the pictures. First and foremost, there were no square-shaped brightly colored fruit. This one, I was told, contained dried fruit, both regular and golden. Nevertheless, it was still a fruit cake and that was all it took for me to know I wasn’t going to like it.
Unfortunately, since the hostess was offering it to me, it would be impolite not to take a slice without offending her. Seeing as I had no choice, I grabbed the smallest piece I could find, hoping I could discretely pass it to my mother when the hostess wasn’t looking. Unfortunately, that moment never happened. Instead, the hostess stared at me, waiting for me to eat the slice I took. As if she had baked the cake herself instead of having brought it from the bakery before we arrived.
Under her watchful glance, I bravely took a bite knowing I would become ill as soon as I sallowed. But one bite of that moist, double raisin-laden cake and my mouth was filled with a rich, intense earthy cardamom-spiced flavor I didn’t expect. The raisins were plump and juicy and added a hint of sweetness that complemented the deep dark caramel flavor of the cake. I was blown away. The hostess knew exactly what she was doing when she placed that tray of fruit cake under my nose.
That was the day I realized one should never thumb their nose at anything. Be it food or advice. Being open-minded and flexible can introduce new ideas and open up unimaginable possibilities. I don’t regret my decision to try the fruit cake but I have regretted all the times I turned up my nose at this culinary masterpiece. To think I could’ve enjoyed it so much sooner.