<p>This cake, It’s not just red. It’s loud. Moist as anything, with that sneaky cocoa twist that catches you off guard, and a cream cheese … </p>
Ingredients
250g plain flour
1 1/4 teaspoons bicarbonate of soda
40g cocoa powder
240ml neutral oil (sunflower or canola)
300g golden granulated sugar
2 large eggs
2 tablespoons red food colouring
1/2 tablespoon vanilla extract
100ml brewed coffee, cooled
240ml buttermilk
1/2 tablespoon white wine vinegar
Preparation Info
Prep Time: - min
Cook Time: - min
Rest Time: - min
Serving: - people
Difficulty: -
Meal Type: -
Steps
I started with the tins. Three 8-inch ones. Greased them, lined the bottoms with parchment, muttered a small prayer because my oven’s temperamental. Set it to 180°C. That’s 350°F, give or take.
Next, I sifted the dry stuff. Flour, cocoa, bicarb. Cocoa flew everywhere. Classic. I let it sit while I moved on.
Oil and sugar—into the stand mixer. It looked weird at first. Like, oily slush. But after a minute or two, it turned creamy. That’s when you know. I cracked in the eggs, one at a time. They disappeared fast. Then came the red dye and vanilla. The batter turned this shocking crimson—looked like velvet feels, if that makes sense.
Now for the dance. A third of the dry mix, then a bit of the coffee and buttermilk, alternating like I was doing some strange batter tango. I didn’t overmix. Just enough to make it smooth-ish. Then the vinegar. Quick stir. Bubbly and alive.
Poured it into the tins—eyeballed it—and shoved them in the oven. 35 minutes felt like an hour. The smell, Chocolate with a whisper of something tangy. They rose perfectly. Miracles happen.
Once they cooled, I made the frosting. Butter first, then icing sugar, bit by bit. Took forever, but you’ve got to commit. Then in went the cream cheese—soft but not sloppy. I didn’t overdo it. Learned that the hard way last Christmas.
Assembly time. First layer down. Frosting. Another layer. More frosting. Final cake. I slapped on a rough coat around the sides—not too much. I like seeing a hint of crumb. Into the fridge for half an hour. That wait? Torture.