Kentucky Butter Cake

Liam turned four Thursday. We did a family dinner Thursday and a proper kid party Saturday. The family dinner was the four of us at home with a small chocolate cake and four candles and the presents my parents had sent ahead. Liam opened each present with ceremony. He said "thank you" after each one. He is four. He is polite to a degree I did not model and Sean did not model, so I am assuming he got it from his preschool teachers or from some genetic configuration none of us has yet identified.

Saturday was the fire truck cake. I baked it Friday night — two nine-by-thirteen sheets, stacked, carved into a truck shape. Red fondant on the main body (which I had never worked with and which taught me several things about my patience level), black fondant for the wheels, silver for the details. The cake itself was vanilla, the filling was vanilla buttercream. It looked like a fire truck. It did not look like a professional fire truck. Liam received it at 1 PM with reverence. He said "Mommy." He said "it is my fire truck." I said "it is your fire truck." He blew out the candles. Benny and Josie ate enormous pieces. Aidan ate the wheel. Nora ate a large portion of the fondant, which she has been trying to eat in various forms ever since she saw me working with it Friday night. No one died. Everyone had fun.

Linda came. She brought Liam a small fire truck — a die-cast one, metal, the kind that is surprisingly heavy. She had gone to the hardware store down on Adams Street to find it because she had wanted something specific. Liam received it with the full gravity. He hugged Linda. She cried a little, briefly, which she tried to hide. Linda is now a permanent fixture in Liam's life. I had not fully understood what we were agreeing to with the first neighbor. I understand now. This is a person who will send him a graduation card.

Sean had a headache Thursday evening after the family dinner. He excused himself to lie down. He came back at 9 with the headache partly gone and the appetite returned. Friday it was gone. Saturday the party was on and he was his best self, flipping small burgers on the grill for the kids and telling his specific dad jokes to the other fathers and making Linda laugh. But I am making a list in my head. The headaches are happening. I will watch for another month. If the pattern continues, I will say something.

Nora did not say anything new this week. She is between-word-phases. She is practicing the words she has and getting the confidence up on them. "Mommy." "Daddy." "Nora." "Liam" (which she pronounces "Lee-um" with dignity). "Cheese." "No." "Mine." "Go." "Up." "Down." "Cookie." "Doggy." "Daddy, up." She is integrating her words into phrases. Two-word phrases. The critical developmental step. I watch it emerge.

Leftover cake all week. The house smelled like fondant and buttercream for three days. We will not have more cake until Nora's third birthday in February. That is the rule. Four years old. Liam is four.

The fire truck was the spectacle, but what people actually kept eating — what Benny and Josie went back for thirds of, what Sean cut a second slice of once the kids were down — was the vanilla cake underneath all that red fondant. A good butter cake is its own thing: dense enough to hold its shape when you’re carving wheel wells, tender enough that you’re still thinking about it three days later when the house still smells like buttercream. Kentucky Butter Cake is the one I’ll be making again next February for Nora’s third, probably without the fondant engineering project.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 60 min | Total Time: 1 hr 20 min | Servings: 12

Ingredients

3 cups all-purpose flour
2 cups granulated sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup buttermilk, room temperature
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
4 large eggs, room temperature
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
Butter Glaze:
1/3 cup unsalted butter
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3 tablespoons water
2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Instructions

Preheat and prepare. Preheat oven to 325°F. Generously grease and flour a 10-inch Bundt pan, making sure to coat every ridge.
Mix the batter. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter and sugar together on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 3–4 minutes. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in the vanilla extract.
Combine dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, salt, baking powder, and baking soda.
Alternate wet and dry. With the mixer on low, add the flour mixture in three parts alternating with the buttermilk, beginning and ending with the flour. Mix just until combined — do not overmix.
Bake. Pour the batter into the prepared Bundt pan and smooth the top. Bake for 55–65 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean and the top is deep golden brown.
Make the glaze. About 10 minutes before the cake is done, combine butter, sugar, and water in a small saucepan over medium heat. Stir until the butter melts and sugar dissolves — do not let it boil. Remove from heat and stir in vanilla.
Soak the cake. As soon as the cake comes out of the oven, poke holes all over the bottom using a skewer or fork. Slowly pour about two-thirds of the warm glaze over the bottom of the cake while it’s still in the pan. Let it sit for 10 minutes to absorb.
Invert and finish. Turn the cake out onto a serving plate. Poke holes across the top and sides, then pour the remaining glaze evenly over the cake. Let cool completely before slicing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Kentucky Butter Cake — The Cake Underneath the Fire Truck