My auntie gave every family a home made fruitcake every year on Christmas Eve. She proudly handed it to us, wrapped in foil with a bow on top. My husband and I accepted it then had to beat a hasty reply to the kitchen to laugh it off as visions of door stops and curling stones danced through our heads.
A month later, we need groceries. Bad. We're all hungry. My husband said "I'm almost hungry enough to eat THAT", pointing to the fruitcake. Fruitcake sat there on the shelf. looking at us as we guiltily avoided eye contact with it. Finally we caved and unwrapped it. Candied pecans on top....hmmmm. We sliced it. Put on butter. I put on a slice of cheese (oddly enough we still had cheese in the house). Took a bite.
I don't know if it was hunger driven but to this day we no longer fear fruitcake. My auntie's anyway. The next year we accepted it with a heartfelt thank you.