A Teetotaler's Fruitcake

My parent's were teetotalers, as were all their friends. When I was a child I never saw anyone drink anything alcoholic, no beer, no wine, no alcohol. Occasionally I heard a sermon about the sin of drunkenness and I grew up just assuming that good people never drank alcohol. I tell you this so you will understand the following story.

Every Christmas my mother made a fruitcake. The fruitcake making was one of the rituals of preparing for Christmas. One year one of my mom's fellow teachers told her how much better the cake would be if she soaked a cheesecloth in peach brandy and then wrapped it around the cake. The brandy would impart a peach flavor and keep the cake moister. Mom wanted to try this idea, but she had a problem. Dad was an elder in our church. The church did not approve of alcohol . She did not want any of the congregation to see her going into the liquor store, so she drove to a neighboring town to make her purchase. She parked at the store and looked around, then hurried inside to make her purchase. As she left with her little brown bag of brandy she literally bumped into the wife of the other elder in our little church who had also driven to the neighboring town to make a similar purchase. They were both embarrassed and vowed to keep their secret.

I was a young teen that day when mom came in with her arms full of groceries. In an unusual gesture of helpfulness I hopped up and helped her unload groceries. The first thing I pulled out of the grocery bag was her little brown bag with the peach brandy inside. I shrieked with amazement. “Mom, is this really brandy? Did you really buy alcohol?” My poor mom. She was so embarrassed as she explained the whole story to me.

The fruitcake was exceptionally good that year. It was so moist with a hint of peach flavor. Everyone asked for a second serving that year.