Chocolate Chip Crumb Cake

Christmas week. The house smells like pine — not from a tree (we have an artificial tree because a real tree is a fire hazard in a house with four children, a fact I learned from a fire safety pamphlet and confirmed through the story of a cousin's cousin who burned down a garage in 1994, which may or may not be true but which has been sufficient justification for seventeen years of artificial Christmas). The pine smell comes from a candle Josie picked out at the dollar store, and the candle smells approximately like pine in the way that a picture of a beach approximately feels like sand — close enough, if you do not think too hard.

Christmas Eve. We went to the Lutheran church at 5 p.m. — the candlelight service, the one where everyone holds a candle and sings 'Silent Night' and the church is dark except for the flames and the faces, and every face is lit from below like a painting, and the singing is not good but it is sincere, and the sincerity is the light, not the candles. Gayle sat between me and Josie, and she sang every verse from memory, because Gayle has been singing 'Silent Night' at this church since 1971, and the words are in her the way recipes are in her — not memorized but absorbed, part of the bone.

Christmas dinner was Christmas Eve — ham, scalloped potatoes, green beans, rolls, the chocolate sheet cake. I cook Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve because Christmas Day is for presents and pajamas and leftovers, not for cooking. This is my system. The system works. The ham was glazed with brown sugar and mustard and pineapple juice and studded with cloves, which is the same ham Gayle made, which is the same ham her mother made, and the ham is a genealogy, a family tree told in sugar and meat.

The kids opened one present each on Christmas Eve — the tradition. Tyler got a model truck kit. Justin got a gift card to Dick's Sporting Goods. Amber got a book — a novel I chose based on the stack on her nightstand, which I study the way a detective studies evidence, because Amber's reading choices are the closest thing I have to a window into her interior life. Josie got pajamas, new ones, for Christmas morning, because Christmas morning requires Christmas pajamas, and this is the law.

The ham is the centerpiece and the scalloped potatoes are the comfort, but the chocolate sheet cake is the punctuation — the period at the end of the sentence that is Christmas Eve dinner. Gayle always had it waiting on the counter when the dishes were cleared, and I have kept that in place the same way I have kept the cloves in the ham and the candlelight service at five o’clock, because some things are not recipes so much as they are ritual. This chocolate chip crumb cake is my version of that punctuation: simple enough to make while everything else is in the oven, rich enough to feel like a celebration, and the kind of thing that makes four children forget, for exactly one slice, that they have to wait until morning to open the rest of their presents.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 12

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
2 large eggs
1 cup buttermilk
1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips, divided
For the crumb topping: 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup packed brown sugar
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, cold and cubed
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking pan and set aside.
Make the crumb topping. In a small bowl, combine 1/2 cup flour, 1/4 cup granulated sugar, 1/4 cup brown sugar, and cinnamon. Cut in the cold butter with a fork or your fingers until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Stir in 1/4 cup of the chocolate chips. Set aside.
Mix the dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together 2 cups flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder, and salt until evenly combined.
Cream butter and sugars. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter with the granulated sugar and 1/2 cup brown sugar until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Stir in the vanilla extract.
Combine batter. Add the dry ingredients to the butter mixture in three additions, alternating with the buttermilk (beginning and ending with dry ingredients). Stir just until combined — do not overmix. Fold in the remaining 3/4 cup chocolate chips.
Assemble and bake. Spread the batter evenly into the prepared pan. Sprinkle the crumb topping evenly over the surface. Bake for 32–36 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with just a few moist crumbs.
Cool and serve. Let the cake cool in the pan on a wire rack for at least 15 minutes before cutting. Serve warm or at room temperature. Leftovers keep covered at room temperature for up to 3 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chocolate Chip Crumb Cake — The Sheet Cake That Closes Every Christmas Eve