Want to "Wow" Your Crush? Bake This Irresistible Chocolate Cake

This is, hands-down, the most unforgettable cake I’ve ever baked. I remember the first time I stumbled across the recipe at the back of Mom’s cupboard, hidden behind legions of jars filled with sprinkles from the early 1990s that probably still haven’t expired (I highly recommend fresh sprinkles, but honestly you don’t need them with this recipe. It's that good). Prom was two weeks away and my crush — ugh, remember those days? — was all set to be Homecoming Queen with one of several muscular-and-generically-handsome dudes by her side. I had a powerful need to eat my feelings.

Please don’t judge this cake by my teenage self's poor taste. We’ve all grown since high school. Hopefully.

I fought the urge to share this recipe for a long time, but after the year we’ve had I felt it would be selfish of me to keep it a secret. I’ve added a few of my own twists to the instructions over the years, and I strongly recommend that you follow the full set now. If I could make you sign a waiver before skipping down to the recipe, I would. But let’s be honest, half of you have already scrolled right by this preface and started gathering ingredients.

Here’s hoping it goes better for you than it did for me on my first try.

Cook Time: 45 minutes

Prep Time: 20 minutes - 6 months (depending on ingredients)

Ingredients:

CAKE

• 3 cups all-purpose flour
• 3 cups granulated sugar
• 2 cups cocoa powder
• ½ cup dried pig heart, chopped
• 1 tablespoon baking soda
• ½ tablespoon white beach sand
• 1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
• 1 ½ teaspoons salt
• 4 large eggs
• 1 1/2 cups buttermilk
• 1 1/2 cups warm water
• 1 handwritten profession of love

FROSTING / FILLING

• 1 1/2 cups butter (softened)
• 1 1/2 cups cocoa powder
• 3 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 8 cups powdered sugar
• 1/4 cup milk
• A lock of your own hair (don’t cut it yet)
• One red rose with an odd number of petals
• 1 mammalian thyroid (can substitute lizard brains, but expect side effects)
• 6 shredded butterfly wings -OR- 8 fresh fireflies, captured at twilight

Instructions:

1. It’s essential that you get the profession of love right. If it’s not true adoration, completely vulnerable and honestly confessed, it won’t work. Take your time. Write several drafts.
2. Prick your thumb on a thorn from your rose and pull the petals off in the Old Way. Make sure you end on “(s)he loves me.” Don’t bandage your wound until you’re done. Let the petals dehydrate so you can crush them with a mortar and pestle, then set them aside.
3. Preheat your oven to 350°.
4. Combine the batter ingredients, holding out the pig heart, sand, and your handwritten profession of love. Purists will tell you that the batter has to be mixed in a cauldron, but most any metal bowl will do. You may want to pulverize the pig heart in a food processor, though. I get the best results from putting the more traditional ingredients together in the bowl while I blend the sand and heart on the side. Sprinkle that mix into the rest as it combines. Concentrate on your best memories - especially ones that involve your crush - as you sprinkle.
5. When your batter starts to thicken, crumple up your profession of love and burn it. You can dig a fire pit or just drop it on a gas burner, but the key is to get your bowl/cauldron in place above the flame fast. You want to get the most possible heat beneath the batter as it cures; having multiple pages to burn can help but only if you pace yourself. You’ll know you’ve got it when you get a whiff of your crush from the bowl.
6. Separate the batter evenly into three nine-inch cake rounds and place them in the oven for 30-35 minutes. You may want to butter or flour the pans for easier removal. Check moisture every 10 minutes; if it dries out or you’re seeing sand particles, the love letter wasn’t strong enough.
7. DO NOT LICK THE SPOON.
8. The icing won’t take long if you’ve got the right ingredients. Take a few minutes to really think about what you’re doing. Is it fair to do this to someone else? Is it really love?
9. Using a silver knife, dice the butterfly wings or press the luciferin out of the fireflies. The effect will be strongest if they’re alive when you start.
10. Take that same knife and cut off a good clump of hair, but not too much! Use roughly a half-inch of whatever you can pinch between two fingers.
11. Seriously, think about this. Remember how weird it was that your mom used to bake this cake for your dad all the time. Stew in the horror.
12. Slowly combine your icing ingredients (don’t forget those powdered rose petals!). Let them spin in the mixer for a bit while you juice the thyroid or puree the lizard brain.
13. As you pour the thyroid/brain into the rest of the icing, ask yourself why this kind of magic is always so disgusting. Your brain will try to push that thought away with some kind of justification, but it’s worth dwelling on.
14. Stir until smooth.
15. Let cake pans cool on wire racks, then turn the cakes out and allow for further cooling as necessary.
16. Once your cake layers are ready, you’ll want to frost the top of the bottom two individually before stacking the final cake and frosting the outside. You may need to cut the top off of those layers to get the whole thing to sit evenly. Go heavy on the filling layers; the frosting loses its power as it dries out, which happens faster on the outside edges than in the center.
17. DO NOT LICK THE KNIFE.
18. Figure out how to be sure your crush is looking at you when they take their first bite. Things get really weird if they’re watching TV or someone else wanders into the room. Especially if that someone is their father. Or actor Tate Donovan. Just random examples.
19. Box the final product and deliver it within 48 hours. If you get any icing on you, wash it off with soap and water. I cannot emphasize enough the need to avoid eating any of this cake during the baking process.
20. Use this time to continue thinking about the ramifications of your actions. Sleep on it. Distract yourself from the urge to do this. Maybe watch a Dale Launer flick.

For best results:

Write the letter to and about yourself. Take a nice, warm bath. Light some candles. Eat a slice in front of the mirror. Call your ex and apologize.