Last week I wrote about Christmas puddings with no mention of holiday fruitcakes. I apologize to all the fruitcake addicts who have repeatedly scolded me about my past sins against their cherished holiday treat.

I reluctantly admit that I have been among those who have added to the reviling of the fruitcake. There are so few foods that lend themselves to mirth and madness. Yes, fruitcakes are the target of comedians, food snobs, wine snobs and even food columnists who have ridiculed the hapless sweet. I have even eaten fruitcake; albeit gussied up with rum sauce, ice cream, custard and a good dab of lemon curd.

Since this is the season to be jolly, I admonish fruitcake lovers to lighten up…it’s all in good, clean fun.

Consider words from the sage of the Revolution, wise, old Ben Franklin, who said it all when he remarked, “In life only three things are certain: death, taxes and holiday fruitcake.”

It has been 2,000 years since the Romans originated fruitcakes. Not satisfied to create dyspepsia, bloating, indigestion and gastritis, the Romans made their orgies even more vile with the poisonous concoctions.

Centuries later, the fruitcake remains a matter of great controversy. There are only two kinds of people in the culinary world….those who love fruitcakes and those who abhor them. Every Christmas the media take great delight in attacking this traditional sweet. A couple of years ago the New York Times (All the News That’s Fit to Print) gave precious space to the rumor that MIT organized a research project on the origin of fruitcakes, including all the subatomic particles found therein. It was reported that one chemical engineer major wrote a thesis entitled “A Scholarly Look into How Many Grotesque Ingredients You Can Cram into One Fruitcake.”

In case you are convinced that those big-city advertising agencies are deep into serious marketing research, consider the case of Larry Bearfield, vice president of Emerson Bearfield and Associates. His advertising agency spent big bucks making a study of fruitcake trivia and lore. The results of this costly and unbiased investigation were printed on their Christmas card, which included the threat: “The Return of Fruitcake.” The message went on to say: “No one is safe. You could be next to receive a fruitcake.”

No less a literary luminary than Russell Baker entered the fray over the fruitcake when, on Christmas 1983, he wrote a lengthy diatribe about a fruitcake that had been in the possession of his family since 1794. He established the date of this heirloom by sawing into the cake and discovered a fragment of a 1794 newspaper with an account of the lynching of a real estate developer in New York City. (There is some kind of lesson to be learned, but I am reluctant to speculate). Baker goes on: “My dislike of fruitcake is notorious throughout the family. This distaste dates from a Christmas dinner when, at the age of 15, I dropped a small piece of fruitcake and shattered every bone in my right foot.”

If you are a fruitcake aficionado, have no shame. There are those who support fruitcakes. The late, great culinary journalist, Craig Claiborne, wrote with great affection of his childhood in Mississippi, when fruitcakes of infinite variety were a necessary part of the holiday feasts. Out in Manitou Springs, Colo., the fruitcake has inspired one of the town’s greatest events. On the first Saturday in January the annual Great Fruitcake Toss will be held. Anyone can enter; there is no entry fee and even if you don’t have a fruitcake to hurl into the stratosphere; there are fruitcakes to rent for only 25 cents. Those attending from South Florida may bring their own golf clubs since participants must provide some sort of device to launch their cakes.

In 1995 Jon Tschannen, an innkeeper in Manitou Springs, wrote the official poem of the Great Fruitcake Toss. Titled “Fruitcake…Nevermore,” Tschannen reads it on the local radio station to inspire the participants to toss those fruitcakes far into the Rocky Mountains where even the bears, elk and moose turn up their noses at the strange and forbidding concoction. Herewith is just one verse of this literary treasure:

“Should have known; she always sends one.

She cares not if she offends some.

Sent the same stale fruitcake

that she always sent before.

Sodden lump so misbegotten,

Red and green bits nearly rotten,

Crust like bark and dry as cotton:

Weevils couldn’t through it bore.

Mable’s fruitcake….I abhor.

— Jon Tschannen

ASK DORIS

Question: We have some close friends in Miami who are coming for Christmas dinner. They are Cuban, and I would like to fix at least one Cuban dish to include in the menu. Isn’t picadillo a traditional dish during the holidays? If so I would love to have a recipe. -- Dolores Pittsfield / Estero

Answer: This is one of my favorite Cuban dishes and yes, it is a traditional dish served during the holiday. I am going to Cuba on a humanitarian mission next weekend and will no doubt enjoy picadillo while there.

PICADILLIO

Ingredients

2 pounds lean boneless beef, preferably chuck, trimmed of excess fat and cut into 2-inch cubes

3 teaspoons salt or to taste

Freshly ground black pepper to taste

4 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 cup finely chopped onions

2 garlic cloves, finely chopped

4 medium green peppers, finely chopped

1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh chilies, optional

6 medium firm, ripe tomatoes or 2 cups chopped drained canned tomatoes

¼ teaspoon ground cloves

½ cup pimiento-stuffed green olives

½ cup seedless raisins

2 tablespoons white distilled vinegar

Preparation

* Place the beef in a heavy 3- to 4-quart saucepan; add 1 teaspoon of the salt and a few grindings of pepper and pour in enough water to cover the meat by at least 2 inches. Bring to a boil and keep skimming off the foam and scum as they rise to the surface.

* Reduce the heat to low, partially cover the pan and simmer for about 1 hour or until the beef is tender. Drain the beef and, when cool enough to handle, chop it coarsely.

* In a heavy skillet, heat the oil over moderate heat until a light haze forms above it. Drop in the onions, garlic, pepper and chilies and cook for about 5 minutes, stirring, or until the vegetables are soft but not brown. Add the tomatoes, cloves, the remaining 2 teaspoons of salt (or to taste) and a liberal grinding of black pepper. While stirring, allow the liquid to cook briskly until most of the liquid in the pan as evaporated and the mixture is thick.

* Add the olives, raisins and vinegar and combine well. Add the chopped beef and heat until the meat is heated through. Add just the ground clove seasoning and serve. Serves 6 to 8.

Doris Reynolds is the author of “When Peacocks Were Roasted and Mullet Was Fried” and “Let’s Talk Food.” They are available for sale in the lobby of the Naples Daily News. Also available is a 4-part DVD, “A Walk Down Memory Lane with Doris Reynolds.” For comments and information regarding today’s column, contact Doris Reynolds at foodlv425@aol.com