I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the memories that stick with us, however large or small. And this Chocolate Chip Bundt Cake is a strong one. I haven’t had it in well over 10 years now, but eating it again conjured up everything I remembered about it. I realized (or was told) at a young age that I have a very good memory, and this cake may be an example of that.
Oma was famous (and infamous) for dessert – whether it was making sweets too accessible at her house when we were kids, or that time she served me and my brother 3 desserts after one meal. Some of the classics I will always associate her with were upside down plum cake and apple strudel, but she wasn’t too discriminatory. Ice cream was always appreciated. Even when she slowed down on being able to bake herself, she always loved dessert when we made it, and always wanted to give her grandkids sweets. The relationship between grandchildren and grandparents is probably the only one in which you can be treated like a kid (in a good way) no matter how old you get. So I was never too upset when I visited her and she made sure to get a candy bar for me on the way out.
While there are so many desserts that make me think of Oma, this is one that has been popping up in my head recently. Seeing old photos and spending time remembering has made me think back on some of my earliest memories of my grandparents, and this cake it from that time.I have a memory of being at my grandparents’ house in Indianapolis for a family dinner, and Oma served this cake. This cake takes me right back to that dining room. She must have made it a few times after that, because at some point I told her it was one of my favorite things she bakes. She told me frankly that it was just a recipe from the Cake Mix Doctor, and the secret was to use chopped up Hershey’s bars. Rather than this shattering an illusion that she invented this amazing cake recipe, this taught me two very important rules for baking that I will remember always:
1) Small upgrades make a big difference. Chopped up candy bars taste even better than chocolate chips.
2) Everything tastes special when it’s made by your grandma.
Despite her telling me this what must have been 15 years ago, I never actually made it myself. So when I was home a few weeks ago, I pulled out our copy of the Cake Mix Doctor, and I found it. She never told me the specific name, but I remembered that she told me about the chopped candy bars, and after one bite I knew I found the right recipe.
I’ve heard that smell is the sense that has the strongest memory associations with it. But taking a bite of this cake really did conjure up that feeling of being a kid at my grandparents’ house, excited that the best part of the meal had arrived. Maybe it’s the simplicity of it, and how when you’re a kid the simple and sweet stuff really is the best. But it’s also the memory of eating it and forming an early “favorite,” which as a kid feels like a very big deal.
I’m not sure how much the rest of my family even remembers this cake, and whether it made as much of an impression on them as it did on me. But that’s the weird thing about memories – such small things can really make an impression on you as a kid, or even as an adult.
I know I’ve been one to extrapolate and make a big deal of a baked good in the past, but I really do think:
How lucky I am to have so many things in this world to tie me to memories of loved ones. How thankful I am that those things are desserts. How thankful I am that baking is something I’ve gotten to share with my family. How eating together can carry so much more weight than just the food you’re eating. How thankful I am to be able to make something as simple as this cake and feel closer to somebody I love.
Oma’s Milk Chocolate Chip Bundt Cake
Ingredients
- 4 bars (1.55 ounces each) milk chocolate (Hershey’s, preferably)
- 1 package (18.25 ounces) plain yellow cake mix
- 1 package (3.4 ounces) vanilla instant pudding mix
- 1 cup sour cream
- 1/2 cup vegetable oil, such as canola
- 4 large eggs
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 8 ounces milk chocolate chips
- 1 cup heavy cream
Instructions
- Place a rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Lightly mist a 12-cup Bundt pan with vegetable oil spray, then dust with flour. Shake our the excess flour. Set the pan aside.
- Break up the milk chocolate bars into 1-inch piece and place them in a food processor fitted with the steel blade. Pulse on and off 12 to 15 times until the candy is grated but not a powder. (Some pieces may be large and some may be small.) Set the bowl aside.
- Place the cake mix, pudding mix,sour cream, oil, eggs, and vanills in a large mixing bowl. Blend with an electric mixer on low speed for 1 minute. Stop the machine and scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula. Increase the mixer speed to medium and beat 2 minutes more, scrapign the sides down again if needed. The batter should look thick and smooth. Fold in the grated chocolate until it is well distributed. Pour the batter into the prepared pan, smoothing it out with the rubber spatula. Place the pan in the oven.
- Bake the cake until it is golden brown and springs back when lightly pressed with your finger, 55 to 60 minutes. Remove the pan from the oven and place it on a wire rack to cool for 20 minutes. Run a long, sharp knife around the edge of the cake and invert it onto the rack to cool completely, 20 minutes more.
- Make the ganache: Place chocolate in a medium heat-proof bowl. Heat the cream in a small saucepan over medium heat until it begins to gently simmer. (Do not let it come to a rapid boil—that’s too hot!) Pour over chocolate, then let it sit for 2–3 minutes to gently soften the chocolate. Stir it together until it is completely combined, then let cool to thicken.
- Place the cake on your serving dish, and pour chocolate ganache over the top to let it drip down.
garyg says
I remembered that cake once you reminded me of it, and I am not surprised that you needed no prompting to remember it! This is a tribute to your Oma that I always will cherish. Thank you, Audrey. Love, Dad