If you’ve been following this blog for a bit, you may already know that I don’t like to kitchen. Some may say, “cook”, but I say, “kitchen.” If I’m not in the kitchen, people can’t expect me to cook. (No one has ever said, “Hey, while you’re in the back bedroom, why don’t you whip us up a little snack?”)
The rules are simple. When there are children in the house, I will feed them. When there are adults in the house, they can feed themselves. Easy. Even if they enjoy kitchening—as crazy as it sounds, I’ve heard rumors of grown-ups who like to prepare food—I will not ask them to whip me up a little snack. The people who know me best realize it’s madness to ask me to prepare them a snack. So, when I volunteered to break a fruitcake to the holiday gathering on Saturday, my hostess knew it wasn’t anything that I’d actually make. We both expected that I’d swing by Costco on the 23rd and pick up a fruitcake.
I understand if you abhor fruitcakes. Most fruitcakes are kind of gummy and miserable. I used to abhor fruitcakes, too, until I discovered the delicious goodness tagged with the Kirkland Signature name. Once I got a taste of their treat, there was no looking back. It didn’t matter if I was invited to someone else’s home or not, I brought one home. It would last for weeks and, for weeks, I would enjoy it.
Not this year. For the first time in forever, Costco had no fruitcakes. I found a pleasant Costco employee who confirmed the obvious: No fruitcakes this year. At least, not at my store, the only Costco outlet within 100 miles. He’d heard that there’d been shortages of an unknown nature, problems that were yet to be explained, and that only a limited number of fruitcakes had been made. All of which had been shipped to Canada.
Canada! Words failed me. Canadians already have everything good in the world, now they take my fruitcake from me? Not just from me, but from everyone else on this planet? Where’s the justice in that? My new Canadian son-in-law is going to have some explaining to do the next time I see him, I’ll tell you now.
The pleasant employee, seeing the look on my face, said I could always make one myself. (If you’re the kitchening type, here’s the New York Times “Good Fruitcake” recipe.) Or, if I didn’t like cooking, he suggested I try the store’s Chocolate Chunk Peppermint Loaf. Eight bucks for what feels like eight pounds of bakery good.
“Is it available in Canada?” I asked. “Say ‘no’.”
He said, “No.” A person can’t climb the Costco corporate ladder without some basic commonsense.
I bought the heavy thing. Brought it to the Christmas Eve party where everyone ignored the bulky thing. I didn’t blame them. It smells of peppermint and disappointment.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to post this blog a day early and go build a gingerbread house with the babies. (No cooking involved. It’s all icing assembly and gumdrop decorations.) See you in 2022!