I hate taking pills. I never do. If I have, say, the most excruciating headache, I’ll reluctantly choke down half an aspirin, which, considering I’m a (mostly) fully fledged adult, obviously has no effect whatsoever, thus confirming my totally-not-based-in-reality belief that they’re no good anyway. Of course, there is a reason behind this. There is a reason behind most everything I do. I’m sure there must be. In this case, it’s because I’m hardly ever sick. No, seriously. I haven’t had a fever in over 10 years. I heal faster then Wolverine, for crying out loud. The discrepancy in the wound-to-scar ratio on me is proof of that. It’s also lucky, or I’d look like a combined map of the subway systems of every single subway-owning city.
Back to taking meds. The point is, when I do take something, it takes my body completely by surprise, which therefore knocks me out into a sleep so deep, it leaves Sleeping Beauty cowering in a corner yelling “No way!”
The last time I took something more serious than a pink, strawberry-flavored children’s aspirin, it took partial asphyxiation due to a ludicrously clogged up nose, a headache like I had an amateur marching band stomping over my brain on rhinos, playing the heavy-metal version of “Oh my darling Clementine”, and a hell of a lot of coaxing from the boyfriend. And by coaxing, I mean bribing me with promises of rivers of honey and milk, and possibly the map to El Dorado.
I was asleep before I knew what hit me, and woke, quite suddenly, a good 10 hours later, with a random craving: Carrot Cake. Or, more specifically, the cream cheese frosting that goes with it. But I couldn’t just make the frosting, because what would people say, so I went ahead and made the whole cake.
And ate it. No, not the whole cake. That’s ridiculous. I would never do that. I couldn’t possibly.
OK, yes, the whole cake.
Carrot Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting
Servings: 6 to 8
Prep time: roughly 2 hours, baking and cooling times included
You will need:
For the cake:
- 500gr carrots
- 2 1/2 cups (600gr) flour
- 1 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
- 1 teaspoon baking soda
- 1 1/4 teaspoons cinnamon
- 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
- a pinch of ground cloves
- 1 1/2 cups (350gr) white sugar
- 1/2 cup (120gr) brown sugar
- 4 eggs
- 1 1/2 cups (350ml) vegetable oil
For the frosting:
- 1 1/2 cups (350gr) cream cheese (I used light)
- 3/4 cups (70gr) butter, softened (I also used light)
- 4 teaspoons sour cream (if you can’t get your hands on sour cream where you live, combine 3 teaspoons regular cream with 1 teaspoon lemon juice and let sit for 5 minutes)
- 1 cup (250gr) confectioners’ sugar
Start by peeling and grating your carrots. This will take a lot of arm muscle, so be prepared to have some seriously sore muscles the next day. Think of it as a pre-cake-eating-frenzy-workout. That works for me. Every time.
In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and spices. In a separate bowl, combine the sugars, eggs and vegetable oil. Now add the wet mixture into the dry, then stir in the shredded carrtos. Or join my club, forget the eggs, and have fun blending them in at the end.
At this point, the batter will distinctly resemble puke. But plough on, brave baker, all is as it should be.
Pour the batter into a greased and floured cake pan. Carefull tap the pan on your counter to release air bubbles.
Bake on medium-low heat for aprox. 30 minutes, or until a tester inserted in the middle comes out clean. Set aside and allow to cool completely.
Meanwhile, get to work on the frosting.
Combine the cream cheese with the butter and sour cream until smooth. Slowly sift in the confectioners’ sugar and mix well. Ideally, it should be all nice and smooth. Mine was, well, not.
When the cake has cooled, slice it in half lengthwise so you are left with two discs. Spread a layer of cream cheese frosting on the bottom-part disc and top with the second disc. Spread the rest of the forsting all over the cake. Make it as pretty as you like. I was in a hurry, as I had hungry relatives wailing pitifully from the table, so I chose the rustic path.
Grab a spoon and scratch out all the left over forsting. Lick off. Repeat.
Serve the cake at room temperature, or store in the fridge if you made it ahead.
Cut up, dish up, and enjoy!