What is and is not delicious Christmas fare is subjective of course, but few items in the traditional culinary line-up inspire such passion as fruit cake.

To some, its dark density is the monarch of accompaniments to afternoon tea, hot cocoa, egg nog or something stronger. Everyone from the parson to the parsimonious, and great aunt Sally to senile Sam is considered fair game for a slice.

Some love it so much they keep it forever, like octagenarian Morgan Ford of Michigan, USA who proudly harbours a 183-year-old, fossilised fruit cake which was baked in 1879 and has remained untouched for 85 years.

So proud of his relic is Mr. Ford, in fact, that he planned to share a piece with Jay Leno on his television show.

For many others, however, mere mention of the word ?fruitcake? induces a serious case of raisin rage.

To them, it is a denture clogging, digestively challenging conglomeration of ingredients which could only have been conceived by a cave cook with rocks in her campfire.

Indeed, there appears to be no middle ground on the merits or otherwise of fruitcake, with opinions for and against as sharply divided as the Red Sea when Moses did his thing.

One fan said she adored fruit cake because it was ?rich and mysterious, like a guy I once dated?, while her counterpart vowed he wouldn?t even feed it to Saddam Hussein.

Just what inflames such passion among the anti-fruit cake lobby is not clear but, as Lifestyle?s Nancy Acton discovers, there are alternate uses for this dreaded Christmas gift, and this is her tongue-in-cheek report.

@EDITRULE:

Each December real and aspiring cooks dust off the family recipe and begin the laborious task of making fruitcake. In a process akin to mixing mortar, they begin with a simple mixture of eggs and butter, gradually adding flour, spices and essences, and finally a volcanic sludge of liquor-soaked fruit, mixed peel and nuts.

Soon the house is filled with the heady aroma of baking batter, and what ultimately emerges after several hours is a perfectly shaped mini tombstone, its top a mass of fruity pimples.

Once cooled, it is then formally wrapped in a marzipan pashmina, and finished off with gleaming coat of white cement (a.k.a. royal icing) which dries to a finish tougher than a rocket?s heat shield, and is a dead cert for boosting the dentist?s income.

What fate then awaits this deadweight?

That depends on who you ask.

For some, fruitcake is the centrepiece of the Christmas sideboard. Admired, untouched, uneaten ? a pristine monument to hours of toil and decorating fantasy.

For others, it is a sumptuous grace note to the fiddle-dee-dee of the afternoon tea scene, best displayed on the finest china, and proffered to innocent well-wishers.

Naysayers, however, believe that fruitcake is a culinary monstrosity with no redeeming features and therefore useless. They are, of course, wrong, as the following ?Waste not, want not? charter proves:

Landfill: Dense and not easily degradeable, it packs solidly and is not easily moved.

Pot power: Fill that pot hole in your driveway.

Festive door knocker: Weatherproof with epoxy varnish glaze. Thread on strong ribbon or cord and hang on the door with a sign saying: ?Knock gently? ? out of respect for the door.

Bullseye! Give the kids an archery set for Christmas. Nail or wire the fruit cake (pre-hardened in the freezer) to the board. Spray paint a red bullseye on cake?s centre. Aim arrows and fire. First one to knock the fruit cake to smithereens wins a bag of mixed peel.

Guided missile: A one-shot deal for scaring away (not wounding or killing) unwelcome visitors from the animal and/or bird kingdoms.

Finders, weepers: Seal in foil or plastic bag. Put in box. Gift wrap beautifully. Leave in full view at roadside or other public place. Hide nearby and watch human behaviour at work. Guaranteed to be nefariously ?claimed? in short order. To add a Grinchy touch, tuck a note inside saying: ?Whatever happened to ?Thou shalt not steal?? You have just deprived my dying grandmother of her final wish.?

Fun and games: Forget toss the caber, shot put, discus and all that. Real men hurl fruitcake.

Batter up: Christmas cricket at its best. Take bets on how many runs are scored before the cake is ?all out?.

Tooty Fruity: Bore a hole the same diameter as a recorder or flute, fit the instrument through it and blow. Note: not making the hole first = a clogged pipe.

Door stop: Do the National Hurricane Center proud.

Post Office roulette: Shipped from overseas? Either disown at point of collection or recoup duty by selling to hungriest bidder in Parcel Post line.

Knife rest: Plunge greasy carving knife firmly into it. Saves dirtying table cloth. Removes easily.

Fire log: Disable smoke alarm. Watch it sizzle, smell it burn in the festive hearth.

Place card holders: Cut into free-standing chunks. Slit top, insert place card and sprig of plastic holly or small candle.

Musical fruit cake: Pass around to music. When music stops, person holding it is ?out?. Winner takes all ? home.

Prize catch: Cut into big chunks, wrap in cling film and fancy paper, disperse as mystery prizes not to be opened until ten miles from your home.

Do the Math: For a child-free party, despatch the little horrors to the garden and order them to separate and count the raisins, identical pieces of mixed peel, cherries, etc. The one with the most raisins/cherries gets to come back inside. The others eat cake.

Anonymous Santa: Wrap beautifully and drop surreptitiously at open houses and Christmas parties. To guarantee your cover isn?t blown, affix a tag saying ?Love from ...? and use someone else?s name. Also makes a nice gift for the parson and anyone who delivers regularly to your home, all of whom will be too polite to refuse it.

Candle holder: Forget oasis ? stick candles in its depths, garnish with artificial holly/poinsettias/pine cones, festive greenery, bows, and use as a centrepiece for the festive table.

Season?s beatings: Suspend on a string of blown miniature lights and with a broomstick vent your wrath on everything else that?s gone wrong this Christmas. Pi?ata ol?

Sea it: Plug holes in leaking boat.

Leg it: Use to level a wobbly table leg, trimming according to need.

Weight for it: The paperweight guaranteed to ensure that the Christmas bills go untouched. For roaches and ants, doubles as the gift that goes on giving.

Tree-mendous: Solid, decorative base for fake miniature Christmas tree. Beats that burlap blob.

Better blocker: Place against door bottom for one-step solution to draughts and invading insects.

Relative reducer: Serve generous portions to visiting relatives morning, noon and night. With luck they won?t be back.

Hole in one: For circular cakes with a hole in the middle, sink your pet?s food/water dish into the space for a festive surround. If you own an anteater, cake is also the perfect magnet for its a la carte menu.

Sitting pretty: Set under a tiny tot who needs uplifting at the Christmas table.

Cold on hold: Freeze until next Christmas and Do Unto Others as They Have Done Unto You.