Just because.

Sweetsie requested a chocolate cake with mint icing for her birthday.

Even though she was having mint chocolate chip ice cream cones with the cake, I went ahead and made the cake dairy-free since I knew that the next day she would be going totally dairy-free, and I wanted her to be able to enjoy the leftover cake.

I made a seven-minute icing, and while it was fine for that first evening, it went downhill after that, turning all grainy and soaking into the cake. Not that the kids minded, of course.

But the cake, well, it done did start all my happy bells a-ringing. Dark, moist, provocative—it was a head-turner, making me sit up straight and look smart.

I used coconut milk in place of regular milk, and I declare, I am never going to make a chocolate cake with regular milk again. (Actually, if you didn’t know there was coconut milk in the cake, it probably wouldn’t even occur to you to think of coconut, though I thought I could detect a faint, pleasant tropical taste.)

Sitting here, pondering that cake, I’m starting to conjure up a new creation … dark chocolate cake (with coconut milk, naturally) … almond cream/custard/icing sandwiched between the cake layers … the sides and top iced with buttercream frosting (sorry, Sweetsie) … the entire confection sprinkled with toasted coconut … maybe some rum somewhere … mmmm. Yes? (Just the thought of that cake is almost enough to start me to send me scampering out to the kitchen to start banging together my cups and bowls. If only I didn’t have to leave in a couple hours to go pick up kids….)

Back when I made the earthquake cake, I confessed that the chocolate cake part of the recipe wasn’t my favorite. This is the cake I had in mind, and now I give it to you, a new and improved creation. It just may become your favorite.

Dark Chocolate Cake with Coconut Milk (Dairy-free)
Adapted from a recipe that I got from my mother who in turn got it from my little brother’s roommate Arthur.

2 cups flour
2 cups sugar
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 teaspoons baking soda
2/3 cup cocoa
2/3 cup oil
2 eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup coconut milk (or regular milk)
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup strong coffee (I used decaffeinated)

Grease two round cake pans with coconut oil. Line the bottoms with wax paper.

Sift together the dry ingredients. Whisk together the oil, eggs, coconut milk, and vanilla. Mix the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients. Add the coffee and stir to incorporate.

Pour the batter into the prepared pans and bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes, or until the cake tester (a toothpick in my case) comes out clean.

Allow the cakes to cool in the pans for ten minutes, then run a knife around the edges and turn the cakes out onto a cooling rack. Peel off the wax paper from the bottom of the cakes and let the cakes sit until they have cooled completely. Frost with your favorite icing.

My friend Tina has (jokingly) taken it upon herself to save us from catching our house on fire. Ever since I scorched the table with an old-fashioned glass votive candle, she has been bringing me candles in solid glass containers. The first one was a red candle in a simply shaped, heavy glass, and while the candle is long gone, the glass is sitting in my jelly cupboard, washed clean and waiting to be used as a serving dish for condiments, such as jelly, sour cream, and sweet pickles.

Just this past Sunday Tina brought me another candle, this one the kind that you find in Catholic churches, a San Miguel. The prayer on the side reads: “Archangel do for me what I am unable to do for myself. Defend me, make me feel thy strong compelling force. Remember the weak, you who are so strong. I am so weak and need your help. Archangel grant me this request we address to you. Amen.”

It’s a pretty candle with a good prayer, but while Tina’s doing a fine job of covering our candle bases, I don’t think there’s much she can do about the plastic broom bristles that Yo-Yo spitefully brushed over our piping hot wood stove, causing the house to reek of burning chemicals. Or about one of the children (was it The Baby Nickel?) who handed me a box of matches while I was talking on the phone—I still don’t know from whence they came. Or about Mr. Handsome demanding “What’s burning!” as we sat down to dinner and then discovering that The Baby Nickel had singed a clump of hair when he was peering into the San Miguel candle.

These little occurrences, all of them, happened in the course of a couple days, so I’m saying a loud AMEN to that angel prayer … that is, if its candle doesn’t burn our house down first.