When I was growing up, we were not really a fruitcake household. My mother didn't make it. Still, there was a friend of the family who made them, and she'd send one to us each Christmas season.
Dense, heavy, overly sweet, and unappealing as far as I was concerned. "It's the thought that counts," Mum would say. Yes, of course... but my impression was that a brick mason could use fruitcake as a building material.