With a semi-successful carrot cake bake under my belt, I’m now testing and trying other recipes to find the right one for this year’s Thanksgiving feast.
When mentioning this to my mother, she mentioned that my grandmother had a carrot cake recipe that I might want to try.
Seeing as how I’m 50/50 on family dishes, I thought this would be a great opportunity to improve my standing.
Raisins?
Ingredients for Grandma’s carrot cake
Pulling in the ingredients one stood out: raisins. I don’t recall eating raisins with my grandma’s carrot cake, but it’s been more than a decade since I’ve had any of her delicacies, so maybe my memory is wrong.
Or – this is like the episode of Friends when Rachel added meat to her Thanksgiving trifle because the pages of her cookbook got stuck together.
Another interesting addition in my family’s recipe: pineapples. Again, I don’t think of traditional Thanksgiving with crushed pineapples, but who am I to argue against the tropical inclusion?
Seven steps to sweetness
I appreciate brevity in baking. This dessert takes only seven steps before you can dive in.
Building off last week’s test, I decided not to grind the carrots down as much. I think that may have been the source of the semi-dry carrot cake; the lost moisture.
Grandma also didn’t specify on whether the raisins needed to be sliced, diced or ground, so I decided to add them as-is.
It looks more like a casserole than a cake.
Unlike last week’s frosting concoction, this recipe seemed a little runny. I’m pretty sure it’s due to the pineapples. I tried to drain them, but the fruit is naturally juicy.
I put the frosting mixture in the refrigerator to solidify while the cake baked and cooled.
Pretty sure Grandma’s didn’t do that…
The original recipe card said the cake takes 35-minutes to bake. I know my oven well enough to know that’s a pipe-dream. I put 40 minutes on the timer. That actually wasn’t long enough either. So, I added another 15 minutes.
There’s clearly a divot beyond these raisins.
When I took it out of the oven, there was a noticeable depression in the middle of the carrot block.
I have no idea what caused that. I know my grandmother’s cake never looked like that.
Good thing I worked out while it cooled
After the cake cooled, I flipped it over to frost it. I could immediately tell the difference in this cake from the allrecipe dessert I made last week.
This beauty was denser, and definitely heavier (I’m sure the raisins had a lot to do with that).
The fridge had done its job to solidify the frosting. While I had leftover frosting from the previous carrot cake that graced my kitchen, there was just enough to cover this version (and that pit in the middle).
The pineapples added crunch and kick.
The smell of carrots, cinnamon, vanilla and pineapple filled my apartment and I could not contain my excitement.
I cut into this spongy treat and my mouth was instantly pleased. It was moist, flavorful and just like I remembered from my childhood.
I think I may need seconds… or thirds.
Oh how I’ve missed this!
