Almond Joy Cake — The Kitchen Warm Enough to Live In

The week began the way the weeks begin now: coffee at 5:30 AM in the dark kitchen, Sven at my feet, the lake beginning to show itself through the window as the gray of pre-dawn turned into the gray of full dawn. The silence is no longer the silence I feared. The silence is the architecture of a life I am still learning to live in. I have lived in this house for thirty-seven years. The first thirty-two of them, Paul lived here too. The last five, he has not. The math gets clearer every year and the meaning gets harder. Mamma called Tuesday. Her voice was small but her mind was sharp. She wanted to talk about Pappa, of all people. About the time he fixed her bicycle in 1962. About how he always said "there" when he had finished a job, the same way every time, the small declarative finality. She had not thought of this in years, she said. The memory came to her in the kitchen, while she was peeling an apple. I listened. I did not interrupt. The memory was unprovoked and total. The memory is everything. Erik came over Sunday. He chopped wood for me without being asked — the pile by the back door was getting low, and Erik had noticed, and Erik had brought his ax, and Erik had spent forty-five minutes splitting and stacking and not making a single comment about how the wood needed to be done. He drank coffee. He left. The whole visit was forty-five minutes. It was perfect. Erik is a perfect brother in the specific way of Scandinavian brothers — silent, useful, present. I cooked Cherry pie this week. Door County cherries when the road trip happens. Tart cherries, sugar, a touch of almond extract, butter-and-lard crust. Served warm. The Damiano Center on Thursday. Gerald told me a long story about a bus accident he had survived in 1988 in Duluth. He had not told me before. He has been telling me more stories lately. I am the audience he has been gathering, slowly, over years. I listen. I do not interrupt. The stories are the gift he is giving. Pappa would have liked this week. The fish were biting. The weather was clear. The Vikings won. He would have approved of all three. Pappa was a man of small approvals — he did not say much, but he made a small grunt of acknowledgment when something was right, and the grunt was the highest praise he gave. I miss the grunt. I miss being given the grunt. It is enough. It has to be. And on a morning like this, with the lake doing what the lake does and the dog at my feet and the bread on the counter and the kitchen warm enough to live in, it is. I keep a small notebook on the kitchen counter — green spiral-bound, from the drugstore. I write in it most days. The notebook holds the things I do not want to forget — Erik's stories about Pappa, Karin's notes about Mormor, Sophie's first words about her babies, the recipes I have changed slightly and want to remember in their changed form. The notebook is a small museum. The museum will go to Anna eventually, and then to Sophie, and then to Sophie's daughter Ingrid, and then onward. It is enough.

The cherry pie I made early in the week used almond extract — just a touch, the way it should be — and that small decision sent me toward this cake by the end of it. There is something about almonds in autumn that feels right to me, the way certain flavors belong to certain light. The Almond Joy Cake is not a humble thing, but it is a warm thing, and after a week of Erik’s quiet kindness and Mamma’s unprovoked memory and Gerald’s long story about Duluth, I wanted something that asked the kitchen to be generous. It was.

Almond Joy Cake

Prep Time: 35 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 1 hr 25 min (plus cooling) | Servings: 12

Ingredients

• Chocolate Cake Layers
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 cups granulated sugar
• 3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
• 2 tsp baking soda
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1 tsp salt
• 2 large eggs, room temperature
• 1 cup buttermilk, room temperature
• 1 cup strong brewed coffee, hot
• 1/2 cup vegetable oil
• 2 tsp pure vanilla extract
• Coconut Filling
• 1 1/2 cups sweetened shredded coconut
• 1/2 cup sweetened condensed milk
• 1/2 cup powdered sugar
• 1/2 tsp pure vanilla extract
• Chocolate Ganache Frosting
• 1 1/4 cups heavy cream
• 10 oz semisweet chocolate chips
• 2 tbsp unsalted butter, softened
• Topping
• 3/4 cup sliced almonds, toasted
• 1/4 cup sweetened shredded coconut, toasted

Instructions

1. Preheat and prepare pans. Heat oven to 350°F. Grease two 9-inch round cake pans, line bottoms with parchment, and grease the parchment. Dust lightly with cocoa powder and tap out the excess.
2. Mix the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder, and salt until evenly combined.
3. Combine wet ingredients. In a separate bowl or large measuring cup, whisk together the eggs, buttermilk, hot coffee, oil, and vanilla extract. The coffee will bloom the cocoa — don’t skip it.
4. Make the batter. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and whisk until smooth and combined. The batter will be thin; this is correct. Divide evenly between the two prepared pans.
5. Bake. Bake 32–36 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with just a few moist crumbs. Cool in pans on a wire rack for 15 minutes, then turn out and cool completely, at least 1 hour.
6. Make the coconut filling. Stir together the shredded coconut, sweetened condensed milk, powdered sugar, and vanilla in a bowl until fully combined. The mixture should hold together when pressed. Refrigerate while the cake finishes cooling.
7. Make the ganache. Heat the heavy cream in a small saucepan over medium heat until just simmering. Pour over the chocolate chips in a heatproof bowl. Let sit 2 minutes, then whisk until smooth and glossy. Whisk in the butter. Let cool at room temperature, stirring occasionally, until thickened to a spreadable consistency, about 45 minutes.
8. Toast the toppings. Spread the sliced almonds and shredded coconut on a dry skillet over medium heat. Stir frequently until golden and fragrant, 3–4 minutes. Transfer immediately to a plate to cool.
9. Assemble the cake. Place one cake layer on a serving plate. Spread all of the coconut filling over the top in an even layer, leaving a 1/2-inch border at the edge. Set the second cake layer on top and press gently to settle.
10. Frost and finish. Spread the ganache over the top and down the sides of the assembled cake, using an offset spatula. Scatter the toasted almonds and toasted coconut generously over the top. Refrigerate 20 minutes to set before slicing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 510 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 25g | Carbs: 70g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 390mg