vanilla bundt cake

I realize “vanilla bundt cake” sounds like an edible yawn, but when I say this is a cake people talk about, I’m not lying. 

Here are two examples. 

Example 1
One Sunday afternoon, I was reclining (because I can’t spell the more ordinary word that means reclining and starts with an “L”) on the sofa when my nephew and his friend came panting into the house. They had been out on a bike ride and were stopping in for — I forget what, maybe water?

“Are you hungry?” I asked (sillily). “There’s cake on the table there. Help yourself.” 

The friend took some and then wandered over to peer down at me and ask what kind it was. Vanilla bundt, I told him.

“It’s really good,” he said (with feeling).

And then — here’s the clincher — my brother texted me a little later to say the friend had reported that they’d had “amazing vanilla ‘butt’ cake.”

Example 2
I was in the living room rocking a sleeping babe (insert all the melty emoji faces in the world), when my daughter and her friend stopped in. Right away, my daughter zeroed in on the cake (my second one) sitting pretty on the kitchen island under its glass dome. 

“Ooo, what’s this?”

“It’s good,” I said. “Eat some.” So they did, end of story.

Or so I thought….

The next day when my daughter and I were chatting over the driveway gate — she on her way into the barn to pick up her milk from the fridge, and me on my way back to the house after lifting weights in the barn — she suddenly sighed dramatically, and said, apropos of nothing, “That cake was soooo good.”

And then she told me the two of them continued discussing the cake long after they’d left our place. (And she mentioned a couple days ago that they’re still talking about it.)

So like I said, this one’s a cake to talk about. 

Yes, it’s a simple cake. But, oh my sweethearts, listen: It’s also incredibly tender and moist, flavorful, and surprisingly addictive. Expect people to eat it serially — ie, cut and eat, cut and eat, cut and eat. My advice?Just leave the dang knife on the cake plate already.

In fact, now that I’m thinking about it, a better name would be Doubletake Cake because:

1. Almost everyone goes in with low expectations, takes a bite, and then a startled look flits across their face, like they’ve just been pleasantly zapped. It’s delightful to watch.
2. I can’t tell you the number of times people have asked, “What kind of cake is this?” after the first few bites.
3. They almost always take another slice (if not more). 

I hope you find time this week to make your own doubletake butt cake.

It’s worth it. 

Vanilla Bundt Cake
(aka Vanilla Butt Cake, aka Doubletake Cake)
Adapted from NYT Cooking

After the first cake, I couldn’t stop thinking how much it reminded me of a giant cake doughnut, and once that popped into my mind, I decided the cake simply had to be glazed in its entirety. So for the second one, I also glazed the bottom, flipping the cake mid-glaze to ice its bottom (er…top?) and then turning it facedown again. The extra step was awkward and messy, and the bottom glaze stuck to the cake plate when serving, but still, I think the full drench was better. 

I love my bundt pan — cakes come out cleanly and always look striking. Recommend.

for the cake:
226 grams (2 sticks) butter, room temperature
350 grams (1¾ cups) sugar
4 eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla
½ teaspoon almond extract
290 grams (2¼ cups) flour 
1 teaspoon baking powder
1¼ teaspoon salt
180 ml (¾ cup) milk

Cream the butter and sugar for about 5 minutes, or until the color lightens. Beat in the eggs. Add the extracts. 

Mix the flour, baking powder, and salt, and then add the dry ingredients alternately with the milk. If the batter looks curdled, don’t worry about it.

Scoop the batter into a well-buttered and floured bundt pan. Bake at 325°F for about 1 hour, or an hour ten. Allow the cake to cool for 10-15 minutes before inverting onto a cooling rack. 

for the glaze:
185 grams (1½ cups) confectioner’s sugar, sifted
2-4 tablespoons milk
1 tablespoon vanilla (extract or bean paste)
½ teaspoon salt

Whisk the sugar, vanilla, salt, and 2 tablespoons of milk together. As needed, add more milk to get a smooth drizzle.

Once the cake is mostly cooled (but still a little warm), brush the glaze over every single inch. Take your time and be thorough. This is art. 

This same time, years previous: boundaries, world’s best ugly bran muffins, salted chocolate chunk cookies, the quotidian (6.15.20), cousin week, family week, a new pie basket, puff!, smart hostessing, sinking in, the quotidian (6.16.14), street food, a glimpse.