mmmmince pies and fruit cake

Whilst being Jewish means I don't have to do all the hellish shopping for gifts in overcrowded stores, for people who probably won't like what they get anyway, it doesn't mean I have to give up mince pies. I love the mince. When I was ten or so I used to be able to eat three in an evening, and my brother and I would microwave them until the tops fell in, and then cover the resulting mess with squirty cream. The cream would only delay the severe burns to our tongues, not stop it, but we didn't care. We only got mince pies for a month or so each year (who eats them after the Big Feed anyway?) so we'd cram as many as we could into the short period. Rather like cadbury's creme eggs (which I pronounced "creamy" until I was about 18) but more intense. Creme eggs, and my all-time nemesis, the mini egg, were available from mid December right through until the end of Easter. It strikes me that our local shop sells them all year round - but maybe that's not indicative of whether they are made all year round. Hmmm.

Anyway I'm digressing. I love mince pies but feel somehow not entitled to them any more. I have compromised, and haven't bought any of the pre-packaged ones (Mr Kipling and his ilk), but I have bought them singly in waitrose - somehow that is permitted. I've had four or five so far this year - two tiny ones at my hairdresser's a couple of weeks ago, and a few of these waitrose bunnies.

When I got home from work today, mentally compiling an inventory of the fridge and coming up with a depressing list of salad veg that Mr W eats (and no mince pies), there was a package on the floor outside our door. First I thought Mr W had been binging on amazon again, then I realised it wasn't books. It was a parcel, relatively heavy, from my parents. When I examined it more closely, it was a DeLuxe Fruit Cake from Collin Street Bakery, Texas.

We used to get these exact cakes delivered when I was very small. I'd have a piece and it would last me all night. If I ate it too fast I'd hurl. It was that rich! It comes in a lovely tin, I guess it has to seeing as it's come a long way, and I can't find a photograph of the tin, but I'll take one and badger Lucille "Strike" Smithson to show me how to upload it. The tin isn't particularly Christmassy, it's just slightly old-fashioned. It's just the right size to hold my ever-expanding sewing kit. When I popped the lid open, it smelt like the Christmasses of my childhood. Weird, eh!

I'm having Christmas with my lovely wonderful parents this year (again) and Mr W's coming too (also, again). I'm going to help mum with the cooking as I usually do (yes, really, only it's much easier with an aga which does not need to be heated up). My dad will drink champagne all morning. Mr W will be, well, wonderful and entertain everyone with a selection of seasonal puns. We're treating the 25th as a day to see my family, rather like 14 February is a day to avoid going to a restaurant. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go and see if my Channukah candles have stopped burning yet...