The word “bundt” makes me happy. It just sounds good, don’t you think? Is that just me? Well, bundt cakes also have a very alluring nature to me. They look so interesting, clever, and pretty, even though they’re just a result of a funny shaped pan. A funny-shaped pan, which has its American roots in Minneapolis, by the way. Cool, hey?
A couple of weeks ago, I bought my very first bundt pan and I have been itching to use it. Itching.
The purchase was a result of a kitchen-thrifting extravaganza, whereby I splashed out (not very much cash at all) on some cute-as-business secondhand plates, bowls, glasses, Pyrex dishes, cups, platters….and a bundt pan. The pan is pretty aged (let’s call it vintage, shall we?) and therefore smaller than some of its modern counterparts so I had to adjust this recipe accordingly.
Bundt cakes seem kinda old fashioned to me. They strike me as something that would have been super fancy in the 50s.
I was going to make this for an old school slumber party (yes we’re in our twenties and yes slumber parties are still totally appropriate. Especially when there’s red wine and chocolate dessert involved) but opted against it at the last moment in favour of chocolate cookies with sea salt. Because those always, always win.
This cake was the practice round since I’d never tried out the bundt pan and I was pretty pleased as punch with the results.
I altered the recipe because of the whole small bundt pan thing (mine is only an 8-cup, rather than a 12-cup which the original recipe called for). My clever husband helped me adjust the recipe. If you have a 12-cup bundt pan, you’ll want to increase the recipe by two-thirds, or check out the original online.
In terms of yumminess, this was up there. The cake itself is not overly sweet (Dan at first claimed it needed to be sweeter but took it back later) and it’s light but in a way that’s different to other cakes. The crumb holds together really solidly so you think it’s going to be heavy and dense, but it’s not. The glaze, however? Super rich. To the max. Luckily, there’s just a thin layer on each cut slice so it’s not overwhelmingly rich, but trust me, it could be.
I can totally taste the stout flavour in every bite and frankly, I find it divine. Others said they wouldn’t have guessed there was stout in there if they didn’t know already so take from that what you will. I’ll take from it good reason to add a splash more next time and maybe a tablespoon more sugar to even it out.
Overall, as a cake eater extraordinaire, I approve. I hope you will too!
Chocolate Stout Bundt Cake
adapted from Real Simple magazine, December 2010
- 2/3 cup unsalted butter, plus more at room temperature, for the pan
- Unsweetened cocoa powder, for the pan
- 1 2/3 cups all-purpose flour, spooned and leveled
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- pinch salt
- 1/2 cup stout beer (such as Guinness or oatmeal stout)
- 8 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped
- 2 large eggs
- 2/3 cups granulated sugar
- 2/3 cup packed dark brown sugar
- 1/3 cup sour cream
- 1/3 cup heavy cream
- Heat oven to 350F. Butter a 12 cup bundt pan and dust with cocoa powder, tapping out the excess. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt.
- In a small saucepan, combine the butter and stout. Cook over medium heat, stirring, until the butter is melted. Remove from the heat, add about 5 ounces of the chocolate, and whisk until smooth.
- Beat the eggs and sugar vigorously until fluffy. Beat in the chocolate mixture and sour cream. Gradually mix in the flour mixture until just combined (don’t over mix).
- Pour batter into prepared pan and bake until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out with a few moist crumbs attached, 45-55 minutes. Let cool in the pan for 30 minutes, then invert onto a rack to cool completely.
- In a small saucepan, bring the heavy cream just to a boil. Remove from the heat, add the remaining chocolate, and let sit for 5 minutes. Whisk until smooth. Set the cooling rack with the cake over a baking sheet. Drizzle the cake with the glaze and let set before serving.
Note: Cake can be made and glazed up to 1 day ahead of when you plan to serve it. Keep loosely covered at room temperature.