Simon’s Special Chocolate Cake
Simplicity in a complicated world.
“A compromise is the art of dividing a cake in such a way that everyone believes he has the biggest piece.” - Ludwig Erhard
My younger son has a certain … sobriety in his eating habits that genetically I have yet to trace and culturally have yet to understand. He will eat only a select few vegetables, refuses soups and sauces with chunks of anything in them, he dissects meat and casseroles to extract even the tiniest hint of fat, gristle, or anything remotely foreign with a meticulousness that would make a forensic scientist proud. He enjoys a very carefully curated repertoire of approved foods. And he can shrug off dessert with an insouciance that never ceases to astonish me.
If our (the rest of the family) approach to food has always been driven by unbridled joy, curiosity, and adventure, Simon’s is guided by the comfort and dependability of the familiar and the simple.
As parents, don’t we all have one kid wired like that?
On the rare occasion he craves something sweet, he unfailingly insists on the simplest of my home baked goods — my chocolate chip banana bread, the delicate, barely sweetened coffee cake with the streusel topping studded only with mini chocolate chips and pecans, cranberry muffins, classic chocolate chip cookies, or our special chocolate layer cake. Oh, and profiteroles (another quirk alongside his love for sushi).
Simplicity seems to be his guiding principle. Not austerity, but straightforward, unfussy, and uncomplicated foods. Like my special chocolate layer cake.
I have recipes for richer, denser, more decadent chocolate cakes, but he refuses each one. What makes this one so special is that it is feather light yet moist and tender, and with an intensely chocolate flavor. It is so good, it has brought grown Frenchmen to tears. And it is my son’s favorite.
The world is burning now, both literally and figuratively. I’m going a little out of my mind. We’re all experiencing stress, anxiety, anger, fear, and sadness to a greater or lesser degree. I tend to turn off social media and turn to baking to relieve the symptoms, to make me forget the bad things, if only for a little while.
And then my son arrives for his annual summer visit and brings a strange and magical serenity. He’s the one person who is able to calm my nerves, quiet the noise in my head that has been making me weep.
I know just how fortunate I am to have at least one person in my life who restores a sense of balance to the world.
And so I make him this cake every time we’re together.
What I love most about this recipe is that it is so easy and quick to put together. The fat is vegetable oil, so no waiting for butter to come to room temperature, and as I always have the rest of the ingredients in the house, I can whip it up on the spur of the moment. The butter for the frosting softens while the layers bake. And all I need is one bowl, a measuring cup, and a whisk. When I want something simple to have on hand for breakfast, I make it in a 9-inch X 2-inch-deep pan, bake it for about 30 minutes, and serve it plain, or drizzled with ganache. When I want to make something a little richer or have an elegant dessert - or when my son comes to visit - I bake it in two 7-inch pans for closer to 20 - 25 minutes, sandwich the layers together with the quick chocolate buttercream, and sprinkle the top with powdered sugar.
Special Chocolate Cake for Simon
Our favorite cake, either in a single layer as is or in double layers sandwiched together with chocolate buttercream filling
For the cake:
175 grams (6 ounces, about 1¼ cups) flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 tablespoons (about 25 grams) unsweetened cocoa powder
150 grams (¾ cup) sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
150 ml (⅝ cup) warm milk
150 ml (⅝ cup) vegetable oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
Preheat the oven to 325°F (170°C). Oil and line with parchment paper either two 7-inch (18 cm) round cake pans one 9-inch (23 cm) round cake pan.
Put the flour, baking powder, baking soda, cocoa powder, sugar, and cinnamon in a large mixing bowl and whisk vigorously to blend and to break up any lumps.
Measure out the milk into a 500 ml / 2 cup (or larger) Pyrex liquid measuring cup and warm very briefly in a microwave, about 20 seconds or so. Remove from the microwave and measure in the vegetable oil and vanilla.
Add the 2 eggs to the liquid ingredients and whisk rapidly until well blended.
Pouring the wet ingredients into the dry can be tricky, but I have the perfect method to end up with a smooth, lump-free batter, and for this I prefer using a whisk: Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients. Pour about a quarter of the liquid ingredients into the well, and with small, brisk circular movements, whisk with just enough of the dry until you have a thick, smooth, lump-free batter in the center. Add some more of the liquid, pull in a bit more of the dry ingredients, and briskly whisk again until your batter is smooth. Continue until all the dry ingredients have been incorporated into your (now) lump-free batter, add any remaining liquid and give it a go.
Pour this batter into your prepared pan(s) and bake for about 20 - 25 minutes for the smaller layers, closer to 30 minutes for the single larger cake, or until the center of your cake or layers is just firm to the touch and the cake is beginning to pull away from the sides of the pan (it will continue to do this a bit after it is removed from the oven).
Remove to racks, let cool for about 10 minutes, then slide a sharp knife blade around the edges to loosen, turn the cake(s) out onto racks, peel off the parchment paper, flip back upright and let cool completely.
For the buttercream:
6 ounces (175 grams) powdered/confectioner’s sugar (I usually prefer using 5¼ ounces (150 grams)
4 tablespoons (60 grams) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
3 tablespoons (25 grams) unsweetened cocoa powder
2 tablespoons very hot water
Using an electric hand mixer — or a whisk — cream the butter and the powdered sugar together. Add the cocoa powder and the hot water and beat, scraping down the sides as necessary, until well blended and fluffy.
Put one layer of your cake on a cake plate and, using a spatula, spread thickly with the filling. Place the other layer on top of the filling and sprinkle the top of the cake liberally with powdered sugar. Using the spatula, eat any remaining frosting left in the bowl.
For the dark chocolate ganache (this can be made without the butter if you prefer):
3.5 oz (100 grams) dark chocolate (I use Lindt 70% dark or one of their flavored chocolates)
½ cup (125 ml) heavy cream
2 teaspoons (10 grams) unsalted butter
Coarsely chop the chocolate and place in a bowl with the butter. Heat the cream gently over low heat until it just comes to the boil (it will begin to steam and fine bubbles will appear around the edges). Pour the hot cream over the chocolate and butter and let sit for one minute. Stir until all of the chocolate and butter are melted and the mixture is smooth and creamy. Allow to sit at room temperature until thick enough to drizzle thickly over the top of the cake. Yes, you are allowed to lick the spoon and the bowl at the end.
Jamie Schler is an American food and culture writer — immersed in French culinary history — living in France where she owns a hotel, makes jam, and writes the Substack Life’s a Feast.








Good lord, that looks and sounds delicious. Simon has good taste in chocolate cakes!
And the cherry plates are lovely.