Special Full-Sized Feature: Ebinger's Blackout Cake

This week's post betrays the letter of this blog, but not the spirit; the chocolate cake I made last night is much larger than 4oz. But on Friday I came across this story on NPR's website about the noted Brooklyn dessert, Ebinger's Blackout Cake, the preparation of which the article claimed to be both "arduous" and "a big, fat pain in the butt." So I felt compelled to take up the challenge.

I was also drawn to this recipe because of its historical nature - recreating this cake (and then devouring it) would be like stepping back in time and going through the same process my grandmother might have taken to make a special dessert for her family. I was also encouraged when I skimmed the ingredient list and realized that the components to the recipe, though numerous, were fairly basic. In fact, the only item I didn't already have in my pantry was bittersweet chocolate, and that was only missing because it's been a particularly trying week at work and I've eaten my way through even the reserves of my chocolate-therapy supplies.

There are no pictures of the process to show you this time around, because when I started baking, I didn't plan on posting about this project since it didn't meet my self-declared size requirement. But after I finished, it was so pretty and I was so proud of myself, I couldn't resist sharing. It did turn out to feel like a more complicated recipe than many of the ones I've made recently. Like the article said, lots of pouring and whisking and waiting were called for. And twice, even though I followed the instructions exactly as they were printed, the ingredients did not behave the way they were supposed to, which led to some consternation (read: swearing) on my part. Specifically, it took 4 tablespoons of boiling water to bring the cocoa powder to a paste-like consistency instead of 2 for the first step, and the filling was runnier than I think it was supposed to be, which made it squish out the sides of the cake when I put the layers together. Besides those minor wrinkles, everything came together nicely. And this might be ruining the vintage feel of the recipe, but I think sprinkling a little bit of sea salt over the top after the cake crumbles are added would be a stellar addition.

Anyway, sorry for the lack of cake-in-the-making photos. Just glance over the recipe and mentally picture me sweating and grinning while I bounce around the kitchen doing all of those things. Also picture chocolate smears all over everything, because they were. When you're done imagining, look below to see how my final product turned out.

Ta-da! The result of 4 hours and 3/4 bottle of chardonnay. Not a bad Saturday night in my book.

I let the finished cake chill in the fridge overnight before taking these pictures the next morning (that's right - the good people of the world go to church on Sunday, while I stay home and take pictures of cake...oh, complacencies of the peignoir). After photographing, I commenced to totally throw off my metabolism for the rest of the day by eating a piece for breakfast.

Warning - do not eat this cake without a tall glass of milk by your side. It's the "melt-your-face" kind of rich.