On the menu: Fruitcake Pie
Three months and eight days after Kevin proposed, we were married.
We eloped four weeks ago. It was the most perfect day, an intimate, deeply personal celebration beyond anything we could have ever dreamed of. We planned the elopement in six weeks. We kept things simple, understated, and cheap. We were married downtown and then went home for pie. The whole thing was so US. And that is what weddings should be.
We incorporated a lot of Irish traditions into our wedding, inspired by a beautiful wooden goblet Kevin’s father had carved for him a few years ago. Irish tradition says you carve a goblet for your love; if it is made of strong wood, it remains whole and you are meant to be together forever. You drink mead from this wooden goblet every day for a month after you are married–supposedly this is where the word honeymoon comes from–and your bond is cemented. We drank mead with our wedding pie, and we didn’t drink it after that because it was not very tasty.
There was always going to be wedding pie on our wedding day. Wedding cake was never an option. Since the Irish tradition is to eat fruitcake on your wedding day, I decided to make a fruitcake pie. Kevin was more than slightly skeptical. He watched, aghast, as I candied cherries and I candied pineapple. He grimaced as I mixed the candied fruits with sliced dates and pecans and poured a spicy, syrupy filling on top. But as this thing baked, it filled the house with a warm, comforting aroma and his apprehension subsided. I was relieved, because I had no idea if this fruitcake-as-pie thing would turn out or not. He wanted a slice right away. But we were not slicing into it until we were man and wife.
After our wedding–a traditional Irish handfasting–we came home for mead and pie. I whipped some cream–the traditional Irish wedding cake is frosted with a whipped cream frosting–and after removing the pie topper, we ceremoniously sliced the pie. And then he stabbed me in the teeth with a fork as he fed it to me. Once I gently gave him his first bite, we enjoyed the rest of our slices, happy that tradition was not completely unpalatable (remember the mead? Blech).
This pie is like a glorified pecan pie. Put a few kinds of candied fruits in there and add a lot of clove, and you’re set. It tasted wonderful and had a smooth texture that is quite impossible with fruitcake. It didn’t get stuck in your teeth. You didn’t need to gulp a glass of water after each bite.
It would have been great if I hadn’t forgotten to put the whipped cream on each slice before it was consumed. But if that’s the hardest part about your wedding day, you did something right.
from Taste of Home
Pastry for single-crust pie (9 inches)
1 cup pecan halves, divided
3/4 cup red candied cherries, divided
1/2 cup chopped dates
1/4 cup chopped candied pineapple
6 tablespoons butter, softened
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
3 eggs, lightly beaten
1/2 cup light corn syrup
1/4 teaspoon each ground cloves, ginger and nutmeg
Line a 9-in. pie plate with pastry; set aside. Chop 1/2 cup pecans;
set remaining pecan halves aside. Chop 1/2 cup cherries; halve
remaining cherries and set aside. Combine the dates, pineapple and
chopped pecans and cherries; sprinkle over crust.
In a small bowl, cream butter and brown sugar until light and fluffy.
Beat in the eggs, corn syrup, cloves, ginger and nutmeg. Pour over
fruit mixture. Top with the reserved pecan and cherry halves.
Bake at 350° for 35-40 minutes or until set. Cool on a wire rack.
All photos in this post © Cait Kimball Photography.