As with many stones - it is necessary to give a bit of a forward. This is the forward.
Preface. A long long time ago my bro-in-law's wife, sent this recipe for a fruit cake that she makes (it is made inside of a bundt cake pan). Apparently, it is a FINE, NO, AN EXCELLENT recipe cause people love it all over the State of New Hampshire. I wouldn't know since I am not allowed to eat fruit cake, chocolate cake, German Chocolate cake - you name it cake - maybe caked on dirt would be okay.
The wife makes the cake. She loves it. Wife makes another one to take to Lubbock for Christmas that year. It was well received in Lubbock. Lubbock Daughter-in-Law always makes a bunch of good sweets, so the cake fit right in with fine food and fellowship.
Then we came home. End preface.
As time went by, we had a pot luck dinner at school.
So Pot Luck? What to bring? There was only one answer. The "now famous" fruit cake. A Sunday afternoon was spent in stirring up a fruitcake concoction. It baked. The aroma crept into every nook and cranny of our mansion. I stuffed Vaseline up my nose to cut the hunger pains and cravings. Really, I did. Really.
Monday arrived and it was time for the potluck (school luncheon). Up early that day, the wife arranged all of her school stuff by the front door. Then, off to the showers. I got up a bit later - took the dogs outside - ate my delicious bowl of everyday Grape Nuts. My mate came out of the back room and prepared to leave for school - coat on - I am in another room skimming Sunday's funny papers when I hear a LOUD: "OOOOOOHHHHHH NNNOOOOOOOOO."
i didn't wait for an explanation, I scurried into the living room. There on the floor by the door inside an enormous carrying bag was a torn piece of aluminum foil. And - the cake - the fruit cake - the "now famous" fruit cake.
Maybe as much as 1/4th to 1/3rd was gone in a pie shape. Someone (or thing) had started on the edge and eaten to the center hole. Then, moving outward tearing away the foil as necessary, the cake was mowed down and around. Perhaps, it was me coming out of the bedroom earlier - perhaps it was my wife coming out of the bathroom - perhaps it was the relative small size of a dachshund's tummy - not all of the cake was taken out.
"OOOOOOHHHHHHH NNNOOOOOOOOO," she howled. My eyes rolled up and back into my brain. If I asked you which dog, which of my five doxies, who would you pick as the Guilty Canine? Mutt? Growl Based Pup? Which One? Well you are wrong. It was not Fritz. Had he had the access, well sure. The entire cake would have been gone...perhaps even the foil and the plate.
Fritz was locked up behind our dog barrier. He is innocent, jealous, but innocent. Oscar you muse? Well, you would be wrong again. Ball boy and his twin Bruno were not yet born - paying attention? The twins are only 2 years old and I retired in 2004. It was a trick question. No, it had to be one of the girls, our sweet little babies: Greta or Liesl. Since it was missing so much cake, it must be Liesl. Greta is such a dainty eater - dot dot dot - And, if you looked closely, Liesl had a hint of a smile behind those pink stained lips.
What to do? The spouse has to leave in just a moment for school and the school noon lunch. What DID we do; what CAN we do? The cake plate was carried to the kitchen. The eaten area was cut out and trashed ( in spite of potentially being a great afternoon doggy snack ). Bundt cake lines were cut. The remainder of the cake was placed upon a new / clean / different crystal plate - artfully placed, I might add - all covered with a fresh piece of aluminum foil. The cake went to school.
I do not know if my wife ate any at the luncheon. I did not. I know the cake stone was not told to the group - even today the name of the school will remain a secret. Yes, it was not told. My wife and I did enjoy teaching there. It would be a shame to open up a law suit.
But, if you should ever come to visit, we'll bake you a cake - the well-loved and famous fruit cake, loved by man and beast. Burp.
A "STONE" is a family word for a personal story or thought, not quite an essay or short story. We moved to central Texas to be near a daughter. We are down to only one wirehair dachshund - Sadie. (Goodbye in 2021 to Oscar the ball boy and Bruno the larger twin) & my wife -- penned by a retired Texas H.S. band director - just nonsense thoughts unrelated to each other or anything other than what's happening and comments.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Fruit Cake Stone
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