WE SHOVEL **** FROM THE BARN THAT LOOKS TASTIER THAN THIS HEAPA OFFAL STUFF.
My dad and my uncle Stash used to send each other a fruitcake that their mom made when she was still in Ukraine. Somehow the thing (with a unique peasant smell of carbonized sugar and some cheap single gut Russian rotgut), got included in Busha's things from home when they escaped to the US.
This fruitcake symbolized something vile so eaxch year it got tossed back and forth between Pa and New MExico.
It disappeared sometime in the 70's and nobody really gave a ****.