I have an uneasy relationship with chocolate cake. That makes it sound as though I belong in a certain grinchly minority together with people who don’t like Christmas or refuse to celebrate their own birthdays. Let me assure you that I am not like those people at all. What sets me apart – what redeems me, I hope – is the root of my unease, namely, the not-at-all grinchly fact that I happen to like chocolate a lot. What I don’t like is the shift that occurs when chocolate meets cake. I’m talking mainly about texture here, how a smooth and splintery square will snap between your teeth, how it softens on the tongue; how it does nothing of the sort in cake. Flavor takes a hit, too, smothered by flour to a mere whisper of itself. It isn't right.
My friend Julia disagrees.
Julia is, how do I put this, single-minded in her affection for chocolate. Not a chocolate lover as much as a chocolate lobbyist. She’ll like your banana bread just fine the way it is, but will take hers with a fudgy swirl the next time around, thank you very much. That cake should be chocolate is a given for her. So sometime last year, I baked her one, and brought it to her place for dinner (for after dinner, I should say; even Julia believes in a non-chocolate, pre-chocolate meal). She liked it so much that I made it again, this time for a joint celebration of birthdays, Julia’s, Mia’s, and my father’s. And when Julia was busy (almost) having a baby that night and missed the cake entirely, I made it for her yet again, this time to celebrate her newly expanded family.
The thing is, by cake number three – okay, number two – I wasn't exactly making it for Julia anymore. Not only for Julia, anyway. I love this chocolate cake.
Unlike the many, many chocolate cakes that have made me feel as though I’m eating something inspired by chocolate, or reminiscent of chocolate, or related, by marriage, a couple of times removed, to chocolate, cakes that cruelly remind me of chocolate so that all I want once I've cleaned my plate is… chocolate, this cake is the real deal. The chocolate’s big here. The cake is entirely at its service, not the other way around. It’s got a rich, steamy crumb helped along by plenty of buttermilk, oil, and brewed coffee – not to mention an extra yolk – and then, THEN, there’s the frosting. Chocolate. Sour cream. Butter. More brewed coffee. You melt it and mix it and pour it forth, and it swallows your cake right up. The shine is terrific. The cake is terrific. I’m behind it all the way.
Chocolate Bundt Cake
Adapted from The Big Sur Bakery Cookbook, via Joy the Baker
I owe Joy the Baker big time for bringing this cake into my life. Joy’s a gutsy lady when it comes to dessert, so I wasn't terribly surprised when the recipe produced a veritable vat of chocolate frosting, enough to coat the cake completely, and then some. With a little sleuthing, I found out why: Instead of baking the batter in a 10-inch Bundt pan, you can bake it in two 9-inch round pans and assemble a layer cake. If you go that route, you’ll need enough frosting to cover the whole double-decker thing, and this recipe gives it to you. I halved the frosting recipe the last time I made this cake (the Bundt version), but then I didn't have quite enough. Perhaps you could scale it to three-quarters? Or just make the recipe as written and stash the leftovers in the fridge. (Chocolate on toast, anyone? Homemade Schoko-Reiswaffel?) That's my plan from here on out.
I haven’t tried the layer cake version of this recipe, but I've included the instructions from the recipe’s source, The Big Sur Bakery Cookbook, in case you’d like to give it a go.
A quick note about the salt: The original recipe calls for 1¼ teaspoon kosher salt. I didn't have any on hand, so I used fine grain sea salt and (because of the finer grain) reduced it to 1 teaspoon.
For the cake:
1¼ cups plus 1 tablespoon brewed coffee
¾ cup Dutch process cocoa powder
2¼ cups sugar
1 teaspoon fine grain sea salt or table salt
2½ teaspoons baking soda
2 whole eggs
1 egg yolk
1¼ cups plus 1 tablespoon buttermilk
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons canola oil
1½ teaspoons vanilla
2½ cups plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour, sifted
For the frosting:
6 ounces bittersweet chocolate (something around 70% cacao), coarsely chopped
¾ cup (1½ sticks) unsalted butter
2 cups powdered sugar
½ cup sour cream, at room temperature
¼ cup brewed coffee, cooled (omit if you’re frosting a layer cake instead of a Bundt)
Heat the oven to 350 degrees and generously butter a 10-inch Bundt pan (or two 9-inch round cake pans if you’re making a layer cake; see headnote).
Bake the cake:
Put the coffee and cocoa powder in a small saucepan and whisk as you bring the mixture to a boil. Remove from the heat and let cool to room temperature.
Put the sugar, salt, baking soda, eggs, and yolk into the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, and blend on low speed for about a minute, until fully combined. Add the buttermilk, oil, and vanilla extract, and mix for another 30 seconds. Add the flour and mix on medium speed for 2 minutes, then the cooled coffee and cocoa mixture and mix on high speed for 3 minutes. Pour the batter into the prepared cake pan(s) and bake for 50-60 minutes (or about 35 minutes if you’re making cake layers). Let the cake(s) cool completely in the pan(s), then invert onto a cooling rack.
Make the frosting:
Put the chopped chocolate in a double boiler or heatproof bowl and set over a pot of barely simmering water. Make sure that the bottom of the bowl does not touch the water. Meanwhile, melt the butter in a separate pan. When the chocolate is fully melted, remove from the heat, pour the melted butter over top, and whisk to incorporate. Sift half of the powdered sugar into the chocolate and butter mixture, add all of the sour cream, and whisk to combine. Sift in the rest of the powdered sugar andwhisk until shiny and smooth. Whisk in the coffee (unless you’re making a layer cake, in which case skip the coffee and see below), then pour the glaze over the cake, covering it completely. Leave at room temperature until ready to serve.
If you’re making a layer cake, omit the coffee and let the frosting sit at room temperature for 2 hours until it thickens, as The Big Sur Bakery Cookbook authors say, "to the consistency of soft cream cheese.” Then, spread about half a cup of the frosting over the first cake layer, top with the second layer, and frost the outside of the cake with the rest. Leave at room temperature until ready to serve.
Top each slice with loosely whipped, lightly sweetened cream, if you’d like. I like.
Serves lots. 8-10, at least.