Gluten-Free Chocolate Cake

Sarah turns thirty-seven. March 15th, 2029. Mama's cake: "37 — EARLINE SEES YOU." Earline sees you. The grandmother who died before Sarah's Table existed, who never saw the storefront or the expansion or the catering contracts or the museum exhibition — Earline sees you. From the photograph on the wall. From the skillet on the hook. From the cornbread that is made every morning at 5 AM in a dark kitchen by a woman who learned the recipe from a woman who learned it from a woman who made it on a farm in Alabama. Earline sees you. The frosting is: a visitation. The frosting is: the closest thing to Earline's voice that exists. I read the frosting and I stood in the kitchen and I said, to the photograph on the wall: "I hope so. I hope you see this." The photograph didn't answer. Photographs don't. But the cornbread sizzled in the skillet and the sizzling was: the answer. Earline sees. Earline has always seen. The sizzle is: her voice. Amen.

Thirty-seven. Birthday dinner at the restaurant. The tradition. DeShawn's biscuits (Earline-level, confirmed, the pipeline complete). Mona's cornbread. James's brisket. Tamika's greens. Chloe photographed. Jayden read a poem — a new one, for me, at the counter, in front of the team. "My Mama's Kitchen, Part 2." The sequel to the poem from last year. This time about: the 5 AM silence. The dark kitchen. The hands that know. "She cooks before the sun / because the sun learned to rise / by watching her." The sun learned to rise by watching her. My son wrote that. About me. The poet. The firefighter-in-training. The boy who chose the heart. The boy wrote: the sun learned to rise by watching his mother cook. I am: destroyed. In the best way. Destroyed by: love that has found its words. Amen.

The cake is what started it — the frosting, the message, the standing in the kitchen saying I hope so to a photograph on the wall. So when people ask me what recipe belongs to that birthday, it isn’t the brisket or the biscuits or even the greens: it’s the cake. It is always the cake. This gluten-free chocolate cake is the one I come back to for the people I love most, because it is the kind of thing you can write words on — real words, the kind that mean something — and the frosting will hold them.

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 12

Ingredients

2 cups gluten-free all-purpose flour blend (with xanthan gum)
1 3/4 cups granulated sugar
3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder, sifted
2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp fine salt
2 large eggs, room temperature
1 cup buttermilk, room temperature
1 cup strong brewed coffee, cooled
1/2 cup neutral vegetable oil
2 tsp pure vanilla extract
For the chocolate frosting:
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
3 cups powdered sugar, sifted
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder, sifted
1/3 cup heavy cream
2 tsp pure vanilla extract
Pinch of salt

Instructions

Preheat and prepare. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Grease two 9-inch round cake pans and line the bottoms with parchment paper. Grease the parchment as well.
Combine dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the gluten-free flour, sugar, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder, and salt until evenly combined.
Combine wet ingredients. In a separate bowl or large measuring cup, whisk together the eggs, buttermilk, cooled coffee, vegetable oil, and vanilla extract.
Mix the batter. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and whisk until the batter is smooth and no dry streaks remain. The batter will be thin — that is correct.
Bake. Divide the batter evenly between the two prepared pans. Bake for 32 to 36 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with just a few moist crumbs attached. Do not overbake.
Cool completely. Let the cakes cool in the pans on a wire rack for 15 minutes, then turn them out and allow to cool completely before frosting — at least 1 hour. A warm cake will melt the frosting.
Make the frosting. Beat the softened butter on medium-high speed for 3 minutes until pale and fluffy. Add the powdered sugar and cocoa powder and mix on low until just incorporated, then increase to medium and beat for 2 minutes. Add the heavy cream, vanilla, and salt and beat on high for 1 to 2 minutes until the frosting is smooth, light, and spreadable. Adjust consistency with additional cream (1 tsp at a time) if needed.
Frost and write. Place one cake layer on your serving plate and spread a generous layer of frosting on top. Place the second layer over it. Frost the top and sides of the cake. Use the remaining frosting and a piping bag or an offset spatula to write whatever words need to be written on top. Some messages are worth the extra effort.

Nutrition (per serving)

Gluten-Free Chocolate Cake — For the Frosting That Speaks in Her Voice