Amish Chocolate Flat Cake

About a decade ago, I was asked to bring a birthday cake to my dear (and now sadly departed) friend Suzanne Wasserman's 50th birthday party at the Bridge Cafe. So I baked a nine-inch red velvet layer cake. Imagine my dismay when I arrived at the party and realized that this single cake would need to feed about 40 guests.  (I had another frosted cake at home -- I was selling them at the time and always made two -- but couldn't convince my teenage son to bring it to the restaurant.) Throughout the dinner I fretted about the scarcity of dessert but by some absolute miracle the staff managed to carve out enough slices of decent size.

Not that I should have substituted this large flat cake (for Suzanne and her husband David loved red velvet), but I would have had a much more relaxed dinner.

This vintage recipe is from an Amish collection I purchased years ago. It's baked in an 11 x 17 inch jelly roll pan and, when baked and frosted, it's just 1/2 inch tall, hence its name. Both the cake and its frosting couldn't be easier to make and will certainly feed a large crowd.

Upon hearing the name "flat cake," the DH said I should pair it with #FlatLillian, an initiative at Henry Street Settlement, to spread the word and work of it's founder Lillian Wald by photographing her against all sorts of backdrops. Suzanne, a filmmaker and historian, studied the Lower East Side and was one of Lillian's biggest fans.


#Flat Lillian with the frosted chocolate flat cake.

This is a very, very simple cake to make done on the stovetop and in a bowl. No heavy machinery needed.  Melt the butter, water, and cocoa in a saucepan.

Pour the mixture into a bowl and add in the dry ingredients. Stir or whisk to combine.



Add in the eggs, buttermilk, vanilla and baking soda, whisking them together them first.



Pour the cake into a greased jelly roll pan. I sprayed the pan with Pam, then laid a sheet of parchment over to ensure an easy release.



The unfrosted cake.



While the cake is in the oven, begin the frosting. Boil butter, cocoa and buttermilk, then add in confectioner's sugar, nuts, vanilla and salt.



Frost the cake while it's still warm. You'll need an offset spatula or butter knife to spread the frosting over the cake.



Henry Street's Executive Director David Garza, a real #FlatLillian champion, eating the cake (even though he's not supposed to, so don't tell anyone).

Production notes: I followed the recipe exactly, except I substituted butter for the Crisco.  The Amish, rather thrifty folk, probably wanted to save some money.  I wasn't sure if the cake should be warm, or just the frosting, so I made sure both were warm when I frosted it.  You'd be fine with a cool cake and warm frosting. If you don't have buttermilk, you can make your own by mixing some white vinegar in regular milk and having it stand for a few minutes.  The amount of salt in the frosting should be a pinch -- it won't taste salty, but will add a depth of flavor.  Chop the nuts on the finer side.

Grandma's Chocolate Layer Cake for George Stoney's 95th Birthday

On Sunday night, I found myself on the J train headed to Chinatown to celebrate the 95th birthday of documentary film legend George Stoney. Of course, I baked a cake.

Even though this a yellow cake, it's called a chocolate layer cake. (Didn't they think anyone would notice that it's not chocolate??)   The recipe  is from my very first childhood cookbook which is old enough to "qualify" for my blog.

This is one of those old-fashioned, delicious cakes that's a snap to make because nearly all the ingredients are simply placed in the mixer and, well, mixed all together.  No need to follow a lot of complicated steps to get a wonderful result.

Butter, flour, milk and vanilla are mixed together to form the batter.  Two eggs are added later. 

Like many cakes, this one forms a dome when baked, which can make for a lopsided looking confection when frosted.  So to get two flat-top layers, simply take a serrated knife and carefully slice off the dome of each cake, keeping your knife parallel to the cake layer.

Hard to see in this picture, but the layer at the top still has its dome;
the one in the foreground has had its top sliced off so that the top of it is flat.

The dome is a wonderful treat for the baker (and anyone else who wanders into the kitchen) and it's a perfect way to taste the cake to make sure it's good.  (Adding some leftover frosting never hurts either.)

George's birthday party was a lot of fun.  There were many people, several of them former students, eager to sit with him for a few moments.  (I think he still teaches at NYU!)  He held court, surrounded by his fans, friends and fellow filmmakers including Albert Maysles (Grey Gardens, Gimme Shelter).

George Stoney, right, with Albert Maysles

During my few moments with George he told me that when he worked at Henry Street Settlement (my current place of employ) in the 1930s, Lewis Hine taught photography there.  George and I had exchanged a number of emails prior to his party and have plans to spend some time at his apartment as he reminisces about his time at the Settlement.

Among the guests at the party was Suzanne Wasserman (above, having her cake and eating it too), a filmmaker and historian who first told me about George's involvement with Henry Street. Thank you, Suzanne!

For those of you who have read this far, I'll share a secret.  I cut a slice of cake to photograph it. Determined to deliver a "whole" cake, I slipped the slice back into place and covered the tell-tale cut lines with some extra frosting.  And then packed up the "patchwork" cake and brought it to the party.  And no one knew (except Suzanne, and only because I told her).