(200 g) sugar
4 large eggs
2 cups (250 g) all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons instant espresso powder
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup (240 ml) sour cream
¾ cup (125 g) bittersweet chocolate chips
To make the cake : Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). Butter and flour a 12-cup (2.8-L) Bundt pan, tapping out the excess.
Beat the butter and sugar together until creamy, then add the eggs, one at a time, scraping down the sides of the bowl.
In a separate bowl, combine the flour, espresso powder, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
Working in batches, stir the flour mixture into the butter mixture, alternating with the sour cream; stir until just combined. Stir in the chocolate chips, then pour into the prepared pan and smooth the top.
Bake for 40 to 45 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean. Let cool for 5 minutes, then loosen the sides with a knife and invert onto a wire rack to cool completely. Transfer to a serving platter.
A
The Guy Who Came with a Party Bus
This guy was the ringleader of his group, or at least its most sober representative. He had led an entire party bus full of guys wearing ugly Christmas sweaters into the bar, who now swarmed the karaoke machine and were revving up to perform. “I apologize in advance for us,” he said. “Please let me know if we get too loud.”
I couldn’t believe my luck—someone conscientious and down for dressing up. I asked if he wanted a piece of cake.
“You’re so nice to ask,” he said. “But I’m going to get a drink. We’re only at our first stop of the night.” He gestured toward the rest of his party bus mates, already in the throes of *NSYNC.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a small piece? Maybe one for later?” I asked.
“No, thank you,” he said, not unkindly. “Thank you so much for asking anyway.”
This genuinely polite dismissal set the tone for the rest of the night; not one of these guys in Santa sweaters wanted any cake, and they were all so flipping nice about it. I rotated around the bar to a chorus of well-meaning
no-thank-you
s and
I-really-appreciate-it
s. Who were these gracious boys, and why weren’t they hungry? I thought surely their zeal for karaoke would die down and they’d find their way over to our table. They’d grow to want cake. They’d want to talk to us. The strategy would work.
It didn’t. They were still singing “Bye Bye Bye” when we left the bar.
The bonds of brotherhood can prevail over even the most worthwhile of distractions, i.e., cute girls and cake.
A
Gin and Tonic Cake with Lime Zest Frosting
For those inclined to drink or eat away their sorrows.
For the cake:
½ cup (1 stick/115 g) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup (200 g) sugar
2 large eggs, separated
Grated zest of 1 lemon
Grated zest of 1 lime
¼ teaspoon cream of tartar
2 cups (250 g) all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup (120 ml) gin
½ cup (120 ml) 7UP
For the frosting:
1½ cups (360 ml) heavy whipping cream
2 tablespoons gin
1 teaspoon tonic
1 tablespoon lime juice
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
To make the cake : Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). Butter two 9-inch (23-cm) round cake pans, line the bottoms with rounds of parchment paper, and dust the pans with flour, tapping out the excess.
Beat the butter and sugar together until creamy, then add the egg yolks, one at a time, scraping down the sides of the bowl. Add the lemon and lime zests.
In a separate bowl, using an electric mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, whip the egg whites and cream of tartar together until soft peaks form; set aside.
In another bowl, combine the flour, baking soda, and salt.
Working in batches, stir the flour mixture into the butter mixture, alternating with the gin and 7UP; stir until just combined, then gently fold in the whites until all the ingredients are thoroughly incorporated. Divide the batter
Dorothy Salisbury Davis, Jerome Ross