I’ve made this carrot cake many times since the early days of our marriage. From the first time my father-in-law had it, he requested it for every family gathering for which he could reasonably offer input.
(I was somehow the designated dessert-bringer of family gatherings when we were first married, which was fine. But someone else always brought ice cream. Combithses have a serious predilection for ice cream, like it’s impossible to have a get-together — let alone dessert — without it. Once, I was going to bring a chocolate hazelnut mousse of some sort to a family function and I started to tear up when I heard the ice cream-bringers were excited about bringing key lime ice cream. I told Daniel, “Why do they ask me to bring dessert if they are just going to eat whatever ice cream on top of it? It doesn’t go together! What’s the point!??” Not my finest moment. I’m relieved to report that I have since gained some perspective. Having children probably helped. ;))
This carrot cake isn’t a beautiful one you’d make as a centerpiece for a special celebration. It’s homey, it’s comfortable, its the kind you plop on the center of the table and pass around and dig into while you enjoy the warmth of conversation with visiting loved ones (which we did twice this weekend, both around this carrot cake, which I made because Dear came home from the store with a five-pound bag of carrots “in case I needed them for something” and I love him and I took the hint). It’s soul food at its best.
Though the cake tastes like it must have some complex interplay of spices, it only calls for cinnamon. Using a food processor makes shredding the carrots a snap. You have no excuse but to throw it together. Right. Now. Here’s how:
Let me know how much you love it.