Waldorf Astoria Chocolate Cake

I am starting to realize I know nothing. Please try to control your snide remarks.

I decided to make Josh's mom's Waldorf Astoria Chocolate Cake because that is the sort of thing I like to have for breakfast. Go ahead, judge me, but they're my thunder thighs and I am entitled to keep them up however I wish.

This is the cake Josh's mom usually makes for his birthday. In fact, I believe I have helped her make this very cake before, but obviously the key to it is that she is there. Because when I did it myself, did it come out well? Not so much. And do I have any real idea what I did to screw it up? No, no I do not.

The thing is, I'm an okay baker. Not amazing. I can't make anything look gorgeous-perfect-edges and all that; I have neither the patience, nor the skill. But usually baking things is relatively straight forward, so it will come out decent. Edible at the very least. Yet just when I was developing some confidence - hey, I know to use kosher salt instead of table salt, I am no longer afraid of my Cuisinart - here comes the chocolate cake to burst my balloon. Or bladder. Or whatever it wants to burst.

The thing is, the cake should be easy enough; it just requires the standard cake things - butter, sugar, eggs, milk, blah blah blah. My biggest concern was that it requires baker's chocolate, which, let's just say I do not like having in the house after someone (who shall remain nameless) ate a tray of brownies made with baker's chocolate and wound up at the vet having his stomach pumped. Mr. Big.

But the chocolate was far from the issue. I defended the chocolate and the cake successfully from the dog, but somehow it just did not come out the delectable moist cake loveliness that I was hoping for. I was all excited for it, and got ready to dig in for my reward while further continuing the time-travel TV trend watching the surprisingly good 1940s House (boy did England have it bad during WWII; I had no idea). Instead I found myself wondering how I could screw up a cake so full of war time luxuries like 17 months worth of sugar ration or whatever while they were making do and enjoying cakes made of, like, cardboard and rutabaga husks. Or something.

Perhaps I am being a smidge dramatic. I mean, it wasn't like a giant tray of turd or anything, but it must be said that Josh dug in eagerly the next morning and then reported not that it was 'good' as you would expect, but that it tasted like day-old cake. This is coming from Josh. I had to confess to him that the cake tasted that way when it came out of the oven.

Somehow it's just too dry and/or dense. Frankly, I had misgivings even as I frosted it; somehow it seemed more like a heavy-brick-lump thumping onto the plate as I turned it over than a happy spongy cake. Did I overbake it? I did bake it for longer than the suggested 45 minutes, but only until I put a chopstick in it (my cake tester of choice) and it appeared done. I was running in and out of the house doing yard work during this time, so maybe it was done well before I tested it? I thought I wa checking it every few minutes, but what the hell do I know? Was it overmixed? Josh is always very hyper about overmixing in the mixer. Was it the lack of nuts? This recipe calls for 2 cups of nuts and I only had a half cup, but I don't much like nutty-cake anyhow and really, how does that really change things?

I just have no clue. I gave some to Sean last night when he came over, along with an anneurism-inducing, 'The cake isn't very good. Would you like some?' Sean enjoyed the frosting, which came out of a can.

I fear the rest of it just isn't compelling enough to get eaten. This morning I had cereal instead. I guess I will have to watch more closely this year for the birthday cake baking in Iowa. At least I got a good picture out of the deal.

Which evidently include this cake in their number

Lackluster Waldorf Astoria Chocolate Cake

1/2 cup butter
1 1/2 cups sugar
4 squares unsweetened or semi-sweet chocolate (melted, which it turns out you can do conveniently in the microwave)
2/3 cup milk
2 eggs
2 tsp vanilla
2 tsp baking powder
2 cups flour
1/2 tsp salt
2 cups chopped nuts (hazelnuts, in my case, which I thought was brilliant)

Mix well butter and sugar. Add and mix eggs and melted chocolate. Feel a mixture of hysteria that you are using baker's chocolate around the dog and relief that you can break it up in such nice neat pre-perforated squares and melt so easily in the microwave (fears of double boilers dancing in your head). Feel confused at this 'eggs' instruction, as eggs were not originally included in the ingredient list. Call mother-in-law to find out how many eggs, thereby making her think she is going senile by forgetting to copy the number of eggs into the recipe. Assure her she is not, and discover the number of eggs is indeed two.

Sift/stir dry ingredients together. Refuse to add walnuts to make the 2 cup of nut requirement despite Josh's pleas because you prefer hazelnuts and have fantasies that using them will infuse said cake with a lovely soft hazelnutty flavor, which you maintain is far superior to plain old clunky walnuts. Lack psychic abilities to forsee this will not be the case.

Alternate adding milk and flour mix. Overmix? Possibly?

Bake at 350 for 45 minutes or until done. Run in and out of house in aforementioned yard-work manner during the 45-minutes-until-done part of the recipe. Overbake? Possibly?

May use bundt pan, layer or oblong pans. Initiate wedding present round cake pan, but be sad you don't have two with which to make layer cake. Resolve to get two matching-sized cake pans.

Frost with chocolate frosting. Cause Josh to be horrified that you bought store-bought frosting instead of remembering that he knows how to make frosting from scratch, and evidently likes doing it quite a lot. Or just sprinkle on confectioner's sugar from a sieve.