← Back to Blog

Margaret’s Coconut Cake -- The Birthday Cake That Became Mama’s

Two years. One hundred and four weeks of standing in a kitchen and writing about the life that happens around the cooking and through it. And this week, Mama turns seventy-five. Her birthday is March 19th, and we are celebrating it in Charleston for the first time — not in the Beaufort parsonage but in the historic district house that is now her home, surrounded by the people who brought her here and the food she brought with her.

I made the coconut cake. Margaret's recipe — three layers, cream cheese frosting, fresh grated coconut — the cake that Mama has requested every birthday since she first tasted it at my wedding in 1997. The cake has been a Blackwood recipe that a Simmons woman adopted, and the adoption is complete: it is Mama's birthday cake now. It belongs to her the way the cast-iron skillet belongs to me — not by origin but by love.

Joy made a card. Construction paper, glitter, a drawing that is either a cake or a sun or both. She gave it to Mama with both hands, the way she does every year, and Mama held it to her chest and said, "This is the best present," and meant it, as she does every year, because Joy's card is the most honest gift anyone gives — made without pretense, without agenda, with nothing but the simple desire to make someone happy.

James gave Mama a book — a collection of Southern food writing that he found at the bookstore, inscribed "To the best cook I know." Carrie gave her a journal, handmade, with "Carolyn's Kitchen" embossed on the cover. Robert gave her a wooden spice rack he built in the workshop, sized to fit her shelf in the pantry. Each gift said: you are home. You belong here. Your kitchen is our kitchen.

After the cake, after the presents, Mama stood in the kitchen and looked around — at the skillet on the stove, at the cookbooks on the shelf, at the mixing bowls on the counter, at the window that lets in the Charleston marsh air — and she said, "This is a good kitchen, Naomi." Not "your kitchen." Not "my kitchen." "This kitchen." Shared. Communal. Belonging to whoever stands at the stove and makes something for the people they love. A good kitchen. She is right. It is a good kitchen. And it holds, at last, everyone it was meant to hold.

After the presents were opened and Mama said those words — “This is a good kitchen” — I knew it was time to finally write down Margaret’s coconut cake. Twenty-nine years of making it for Mama’s birthday, and I’ve never once shared the recipe here. It felt right to do it now, in the same week she turned seventy-five, in the kitchen she finally called good. Three layers, cream cheese frosting, fresh grated coconut — this is the cake that belongs to her.

Margaret’s Coconut Cake

Prep Time: 30 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 30 minutes (includes cooling) | Servings: 12

Ingredients

For the cake:

  • 3 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 tablespoon baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
  • 2 cups granulated sugar
  • 5 large eggs, room temperature
  • 1 cup coconut milk (full fat, well stirred)
  • 1/2 cup whole milk
  • 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
  • 1 cup sweetened shredded coconut

For the cream cheese frosting:

  • 16 ounces (two 8-oz blocks) cream cheese, softened
  • 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
  • 5 cups powdered sugar, sifted
  • 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
  • 1/8 teaspoon salt

For topping:

  • 2 to 3 cups fresh grated coconut (from 1 whole coconut) or 2 cups sweetened flaked coconut

Instructions

  1. Prepare your pans. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease and flour three 9-inch round cake pans and line the bottoms with parchment paper.
  2. Mix the dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.
  3. Cream the butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter and granulated sugar with an electric mixer on medium-high speed for 4 to 5 minutes, until pale and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Stir in the vanilla.
  4. Combine wet ingredients. In a small bowl or measuring cup, whisk together the coconut milk and whole milk.
  5. Alternate additions. With the mixer on low speed, add the flour mixture in three additions, alternating with the milk mixture in two additions, beginning and ending with the flour. Mix just until combined after each addition — do not overmix. Fold in the shredded coconut by hand with a spatula.
  6. Bake the layers. Divide the batter evenly among the three prepared pans. Bake for 22 to 25 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool in the pans for 10 minutes, then turn out onto wire racks and cool completely.
  7. Make the frosting. Beat the cream cheese and butter together on medium speed until smooth, about 2 minutes. Add the powdered sugar one cup at a time, mixing on low speed after each addition. Add the vanilla and salt, then increase speed to medium-high and beat for 1 to 2 minutes until light and fluffy.
  8. Assemble the cake. Place the first cake layer on a serving plate or cake stand. Spread about 3/4 cup of frosting evenly over the top. Repeat with the second layer and another 3/4 cup of frosting. Place the third layer on top. Frost the top and sides of the cake with the remaining frosting.
  9. Add the coconut. Gently press the fresh grated coconut onto the top and sides of the cake, covering it completely. Use your hands to pat the coconut into the frosting so it adheres.
  10. Chill and serve. Refrigerate the cake for at least 30 minutes before slicing to let the frosting set. Bring to room temperature for 15 minutes before serving. Store covered in the refrigerator for up to 4 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 685 | Protein: 8g | Fat: 34g | Carbs: 90g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 310mg

Naomi Blackwood
About the cook who shared this
Naomi Blackwood
Week 104 of Naomi’s 30-year story · Charleston, South Carolina
Naomi is a retired librarian from Charleston who spent thirty-one years putting books in people's hands and now spends her days putting her mother's Lowcountry recipes on paper before they're lost. She survived her husband's affair, her father's sudden death, and the long goodbye of her mother's final years. She cooks she-crab soup in a bowl that Carolyn brought from Beaufort, and in every spoonful you can taste the marsh and the memory and the grace of a woman who chose to stay and rebuild.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?