Date Rape Carrot Cake, so good you’ll think someone slipped you a mickey….

Too far? Oh, my B. I know you chuckled, or scoffed a little at least and hey, that is what this here blog is for now ya’ll. But seriously, ask resident rabbit brian, he’ll tell you this cake is buck.

Told ya. I went on a search trying to found out what Very Vera’s secret is to her famed carrot cakes and all I can gather is crushed pineapple. That is no secret, every good grandmother puts crushed pineapple in her carrot cake. It’s gotta be her spice mix because that didn’t seem secret enough for me. Therefore I set out on my own to make a carrot cake that would rival Paula Dean’s love for butter. (ballsy, i know.)

Woowee sister did I do it! I FLOVE carrot cake. There, I said it, we can add it to the list of things that are terrible for you that I love. You just trust me, you are going to love it too.

Carrot Cake
2 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda shopping list
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
4 eggs
1 1/2 cups vegetable oil
2 cups sugar
2 3/4 cups shredded carrots
1 8 oz. can crushed pineapple, drained
1 cup pecans
1 cup flaked coconut

Cream Cheese Frosting
1/2 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
3/4 pound cream cheese, at room temperature
2 tablespoons milk
2 tablespoons vanilla
1 1/2 cups powdered sugar

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour two 8 inch spring form pans.

In a large bowl, beat together eggs, oil, sugar and 2 teaspoons vanilla. Mix in flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt and cinnamon. Stir in carrots, coconut and pineapple. Fold in pecans. Pour into prepared pan.

Bake in the preheated oven for 40 to 50 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. Let cool in pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack and cool completely.

For Cream Cheese Frosting: In a medium bowl, combine butter, cream cheese, confectioners’ sugar and 1 teaspoon vanilla. Beat until the mixture is smooth and creamy. Frost the cooled cake.

Die of happiness or cardiac arrest. You’re choice.

Love,
Whit