Once again, CSN Stores gave me a gift certificate for me to use in return for some reviews of whatever I purchase with it. For my latest batch of housewares, I ordered a Bundt pan because, well, why not? I wouldn’t say that I’m an avid Bundt maker, but it’s nice having the pan, and the thought of replicating those amazing Costco chocolate ring cakes in my very own kitchen was a bit too intoxicating to pass up. And so I happily added a nifty Bundt pan to my cart, and a few scant days later, it arrived on my doorstep (ironically the very same day that local bakery Kiss My Bundt went out of business. The circle of Bundt life continues).
Nevertheless, I had my new pan, but as I opened the box, I was in for quite the surprise…
Here’s my new Bundt pan. Everything looks fine, right?
Except guess what? IT’S TINY. Yes, I ordered a 6-Cup pan, not realizing that 12 cups was the standard. This immediately put a dent in my Bundt plans as most recipes are designed for either the larger or the smaller (Bundtlette, as they’re called) sizes. However, when it comes to the ol’ 6-cupper, there ain’t much out there for this overlooked middle child. That’s right, people. I have the Jan Brady of Bundt pans.
Luckily my pan came with a recipe for a “Chocolate Crown Cake,” and even more luckily, I had all the ingredients on hand. I decided to get to work making a quick lil’ Bundt. Here’s a stick of butter, softened.
Joining the butter is about a cup of sugar.
After creaming the butter and sugar, two eggs go into the mix. Here’s the second aforementioned egg.
Next goes flour and milk and vanilla extract and baking powder and salt. I drink skim milk; so I know that will lead to issues down the line baking-wise. However, I’m too lazy to go to the supermarket next door and get a more baking-friendly variety of milk.
The batter, about a minute later.
I think scoop about a quarter of the batter into a separate bowl. The chocolate crown process is upon us.
To the quarantined batter I add chocolate syrup (how very Sandra Lee) and baking soda.
I then butter and flour my pan, a process which I find terribly annoying.
First in the pan is the chocolate batter.
Next goes the regular white stuff.
Only took about twenty minutes to do all this. Maybe less. Now it goes into the oven, preheated to 350 degrees. The directions order me to bake for thirty-five to forty minutes, but thanks to my skim milk, I wind up adding about ten or fifteen minutes to this bad boy.
When the cake is finally ready, it looks like this. Curiously, the chocolate layer seems to have migrated.
And now the moment of truth…
That’s good Bundt!
After the Bundt has cooled completely, I cut myself a slice. I’m somewhat shocked that there is no real chocolate layer. By the miracles of science, the chocolate seems to have separated into nothing more than a shell. Visually, it’s cool. Expectation-wise, I’m sad.
Well, the cake was nice, but nothing special. It wasn’t anything better than what you’d find in a conference room at a Holiday Inn (because I imagine their conference rooms are full of Bundt cakes). If anything , it was a little dry — not so much from overbaking but probably the lack of fat in the skim milk. I decided to jazz things up; so I made a chocolate glaze. Cocoa powder, powdered sugar, and water. Voila.
The new and improved Bundt cake. The glaze definitely helped. But did it help enough?
Not really. I mean, it’s a fine little cake, but I think if I’m going to make it again, I’m going to full-on frost it with some cream-cheese frosting. It needs something to kick it up a notch, as Emeril would say.
Nevertheless, despite the Bundt pan being too small (my fault), it worked just fine. Cleanup was a breeze, and the cake slid right out of the thing. On a purely technical level, success!