A simple and damn good Carrot Cake

Honestly I wish I could even begin to compete with what is the now classic recipe introductory text. I never fail to be completely dazzled when I find that the author of the recipe I found is telling me a story about their last oil change and somehow ties that in to the fact that they are now making a fruit trifle for the English Tea Garden party they're throwing their great aunt. I don't know how they do it. So I'm not going to. I'm just going to get right in to the cake because that's what you're here for. And I won't do the thing where after the incredibly lengthy anecdote about the last time I ate a carrot cake, I list all the random crap I did while making this cake with beautiful pictures without saying a damn word about the recipe and measurements that you just scroll through anyway.

So let's figure out the recipe and measurements, then I'll show you the steps to making it and.... we'll just say pictures. Scrap the beautiful part.

CARROT CAKE:

2 cups of Sugar

1 cup of Vegetable Oil (or whatever. Use Olive oil. Virgin. Extra virgin. Been around the block. We don't judge here. )

4 Eggs

2-3 cups of Flour (I'll explain how that could possible vary later. Just have the extra on hand somewhere)

1/2 teaspoon Salt

1 teaspoon Baking Soda

1 teaspoon Baking Powder (so when you mix these up because you were yelling at your kids instead of reading the damn recipe, you still added the right amount)

2 tsp pumpkin pie spice (or cinnamon, clove, and nutmeg mixed together. or just cinnamon if you're boring)

2 cups Grated Carrots (I don't give a flying flip what anyone says about using fresh carrots-- it DOES NOT matter and if you wanna spend an extra half hour grating carrots be my guest but that is not on my list today)

1 cup of crushed Pineapple OR apple sauce (or, again, neither, if you're boring)

CREAM CHEESE FROSTING:

2 sticks of butter (softened but not melted. Who are you kidding, it's gonna be half melted when you try to soften it in the microwave. It won't really matter)

2 80z packages of cream cheese (doesn't need to be soft)

3-5 cups of powdered sugar

Optional vanilla (also my rap alias)

*Now as an extra special Quarantine treat, I decided to make this cake with my younger cousin T over Facetime. I've been alternating weeks doing virtual baking sessions with him and his sister O for about a month now.

1. Engage your young cousin in conversation. He may tell you that he's tired because he "sits up at night thinking until he's thought of everything, then goes to sleep at 3:30". Do your best not to become bitter because you wish that you too could think of everything before going to sleep instead of falling asleep feeling the impending doom of adult life. Then preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

2. Add the sugar, oil, and 4 whole eggs into your mixing bowl. Make a lame joke by throwing all of your eggs in the bowl. Shamefully pick the eggs out of the oil and sugar and then crack them like a normal person. Mix until combined.

3. In a separate bowl, dump the flour, salt, baking soda, baking powder, and pumpkin pie spice together, mix them all up, and add them to the wet ingredients. Mix until just combined again.

4. Now take those carrots you bought at the store and either measure out 2 cups of the already grated carrots or spend the next 4-6 years grating enough for two cups, then add to the bowl. I went and bought matchsticks which where a little thick for my taste so I chopped them up a bit. Still less time than grating!

5. Take your crushed pineapple or apple sauce and throw about a quarter cup to a half cup in there. I have always liked a little pineapple in my carrot cake to make it more moist and add a little sweetness. I've done it with apple sauce and got a lot of compliments on that flavour as well. T did apple sauce and I did pineapple!

6. Throw the batter in whatever oiled or buttered up oven-safe receptacle you so choose and stick it in the oven for anywhere from 20-50 minutes. We both did 9" pans and it took our layers about 30. This can make a nice sheet cake, cupcakes, bundt cake, hell bake it in a trash can, do whatever the hell you feel like.

7. For the frosting you just mix the butter and cream cheese together until it's smooth, add the vanilla, then add as much powdered sugar as you want. I called it icing sugar and T laughed at me because apparently they don't say that in Texas. Some people like their cream cheese frosting sweeter, some don't. Again, you do you. We each added about 3 1/2 cups.

8. Realize you forgot to set a timer on the cake and have no idea it's been in the oven. Look at cakes and decide how much longer they need based on the fact that they still mostly look like carrot soup. Then wait for the cakes to cool completely before frosting them; T decided he would go for a bike ride while he waited. I drank coffee and shook my butt to some questionable music choices. We both just did things we felt like doing.

9. If you're a 10 year old, jump in the pool after said bike ride and leave your mom to frost the carrot cake because you've got no interest in doing it yourself. If you're 26 and just finishing your coffee and butt shaking, remember that the last time you and T decorated a cake he was frustrated because yours looked nice and his didn't and proceed to make the ugliest cake you can so his looks better and he feels better about his cake skills.

10. Take the cake to a level of "WTF?" where people will wonder how you've ever decorated a cake properly before. This is to boost a child's confidence, after all. I mean really go all out with the ugly thing.

11. Cut that butt ugly cake and remember that looks are deceiving and beauty is on the inside and whatever other cliche's you can apply to cake because this is damn good. For the record, T said his was "damn delicious" as well.

And there you have it, a damn good carrot cake with some damn good cream cheese frosting. Happy cake-ing!