According to Pinterest, I first noticed this recipe 20 weeks ago, which means it’s been waiting for me since January. Maybe it was the three sticks of butter that dissuaded me from trying it sooner, but a visit from our glorious friend Jenny was a good excuse to try something new, and she said she didn’t mind if it was crazily decadent. Score!
There are no healthy ingredients in this cake other than the eggs.
I started by putting three sticks of butter and an 8-ounce package of reduced fat cream cheese into the stand mixer.
Yep.
Then we added a cup of sugar.
Then we added two MORE cups of sugar.
So where are we? Oh yeah, three sticks of butter and three cups of sugar.
Then it was time for the six eggs. Yes, I said six eggs. No, I didn’t say six egg whites or two eggs. Six. Six eggs.
The recipe suggested cracking them into a separate bowl first to prevent shells from getting into the batter, which seemed like a wise precaution, so I got out a nice big glass bowl and Jenny & I cracked away.
It was only after we did that that I looked back a sentence or two and read, “Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating until combined.” Oops. So I did my best to add them one at a time. See? Here I am halfway through.
Once the eggs were in and blended, it was time to address the dry ingredients. I didn’t do whole wheat white for this one, as I didn’t want to add even a bit of heaviness to the cake. Using the sifter for three cups seemed like a time-consuming and tedious task, so I cheated and used the colander.
I added the salt and then started blending the dry ingredients into the batter, a little at a time. The bowl filled up quickly.
The last ingredient to go in was the vanilla. I stirred that in by hand and Jenny helped me get the batter from the bowl into the bundt pan. I was so sure I was going to spill it all into the hole in the middle and therefore all over the counter, but with her help, everything made it into the pan.
I set the timer for an hour and forty minutes, and resisted the urge to open the oven every ten minutes to see what was going on in there. I’ve never used my bundt pan before, and I’ve never made a pound cake, so I was a little nervous.
While it was baking, Nathaniel came home from a birthday party where they played capture the flag (and had the time of their lives).
With eight minutes left to go on the timer, I did the toothpick test and the pound cake passed with flying colors. Out it went.
The next test came fifteen minutes later, when I flipped over the pan and hoped for the best. I was afraid to look, so I watched Dave’s face while he watched the cake come out of the pan, which is also how I used to watch 24 when it got icky. Dave’s face registered nothing but joy, however, and I took a look for myself.
Wow! It took all the restraint I had not to cut it open and peek inside until after dinner.
But wait…we must speak of dinner. Dave grilled some chicken on the barbecue, which was utterly delicious, but for a side dish he brought back a Pinterest favorite of ours: Waffle Iron Fries. Have you tried these? It’s like a latke, or hash browns, but instead of being fried in oil, it cooks in the waffle iron. Jenny practically swooned. Dave opened up the waffle iron so I could grab a quick shot of one being cooked.
We sat down to a tasty treat of a dinner, and then I took the plunge and cut the cake. What joy! The outside is almost crisp, with a candy-like crunch, but it’s whisper-thin and is just the perfect introduction to the moist, delicious, dense but fluffy wonder on the inside. O M G. Honestly, I can think of no better expression to explain it than that. O M G.
Juliet liked it so much she posed with it, although she made sure she looked dramatic enough to draw the eye away from the cake.
Nathaniel had his (second) piece with a few strawberries, and couldn’t stop laughing at the monster strawberry he found in the container.
And that was the most decadent thing I have made since my birthday, and it’s delicious, and I feel proud of it. I will continue to feel proud if I don’t eat any more until at least tomorrow. If there’s any left by Monday, my co-workers are going to love me and curse me at the same time.
On a final note, I wanted to make something special for Jenny to take home that wouldn’t inspire foodguilt, so I made some chocolate yogurt muffins. I told her I’d put five chips in the middle of each one, any kind of chip she wanted, and when she couldn’t decide, I went all in and made three of each kind: white chocolate, peanut butter, cinnamon, and butterscotch.
We were sad when Jenny left, but we loaded her up with chicken, turkey chili, pound cake, and muffins. Now the kids are up in bed, and Dave & I are alone with what’s left of the cake. Please send help.
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