11.1.22
I was up bright and early this morning and by a tad after 5 o’clock was ready to start preparing another batch of my Traditional English Christmas cakes. Now this simple sounding task, although very pleasurable, is one that takes preparation and patience. I make a triple batch at a time, following an age-old recipe from my favourite cookbook, one my dearest Aunty Kay gave me many, many years ago. It is a rich cake, made with butter, lots of eggs, spices and filled with all manner of dried fruit, nuts and of course a liberal amount of cream sherry! Once stirred and the batter plopped in well prepared tins, the cakes sit in a slow oven for nigh on four hours, the delicious aroma filling the house. Once cooled, the cakes are removed from the tins, doused with more sherry, wrapped up nice and tight in greaseproof paper and tin foil. They then head to the aging shelf in the pantry where they will sit and cogitate for a few weeks before being unwrapped, given another dousing of spirits before receiving a final wrap of greaseproof paper and tin foil and being sent off to their new homes, just in time to be enjoyed for the holidays.
While I was diligently weighing out the dried fruit for each mixing bowl, I thought about how many years I have been making these cakes and what a tradition it has become at this time of year. Soon, each bowl had mounds of raisins, currants, golden sultanas, little piles of finely diced mixed peel, sprinkles of bright red glacé cherries and a small mound of creamy white slivered almonds residing neatly side by side each other. After sploshing in a goodly amount of sherry, I proceeded to roll up my sleeves and dig in, mixing all the ingredients together, making sure there were no errant clumps of raisins or sultanas.
Suddenly, my hands became still. I looked down at the bowl in front of me and saw not mounds of individual fruit and nuts, but a fine amalgamation of the lot. No longer were there lines of separation between the colours, instead there was a glorious mixture, a rich tapestry so pleasing to the eye. It came to me in an instant. America is like a fruit cake! “What?” you may be asking in surprise! “America is like a fruit cake?” Well, yes, I do believe it is.
As I looked at the next bowl with the finely delineated piles of different ingredients, I thought if one were to pick up an almond sliver it would taste just like an almond sliver. If you next plucked out a golden sultana it would taste like a golden sultana. A small dark current would taste, yes you guessed it, like a tiny, delectable currant. Each ingredient is unique and wonderful, yet mix them all together, bake them for a few hours and you have a truly delicious treat. Each ingredient adds its own special flavour to the mix, complimenting its neighbour not subduing it. You can still experience the taste of the almond, still enjoy the sweetness of a glacé cherry, enjoy the tanginess of a plump raisin but no one flavour overpowers the others. It is a symphony to the palate.
Tears filled my eyes. To me, this is America as it was intended to be, as it should be and as it will and can be. I am an American, albeit a Naturalized Citizen, but I am an American. Will I always be English too? Of course I will, but I am also proud and yes, very grateful to live in this great country. Each of us who come to this country bring a little bit of our native homeland with us. Yet we become Americans. Those of us who come do not want to remain apart, we want to join, to be united and maybe to help enrich the country we now call home. To share our traditions but not expect everyone to follow our traditions. To truly become part of the United State of America.