Yes, Milky Way Cake. Seriously, what kind of crazy person would melt 8 candy bars with a stick of butter and fold them into a cake batter containing a full cup of shortening? I don’t know who gave my mom this recipe or who created it, but they are my hero. In fact, I’m giving up this whole cooking thing to personally finance and manage their campaign for President.
This recipe was at the top of my mother’s recipe box, wrinkled and flecked with bits of flour and who knows what else. All evidence of a recipe well-lived. It produces a cake that despite all the candy bars, is surprisingly light. It’s the frosting that turns it into an insanely rich confection. If you have a favorite chocolate frosting recipe, give it a try but we always had it filled and frosted with two jars of milk chocolate frosting. It’s so rich that only a ginormous dollop of non-dairy whipped topping (you know the one) can temper the decadence. It occurs to me every time I make this cake that I should whip up a batch of whipped cream to serve with the cake but I can never bring myself to do it. The cake and the Cool Whip (you knew all along) go together, at least in my mind. It’s like eating a plateful of my chocolate childhood and I don’t want to mess with it. If you do, let me know how it turns out.
I’ll be celebrating National Dessert Month by opening up my mother’s recipe box and sharing one of my favorite retro dessert recipes each week.
You’ll need twice as many of the small candy bars if you don’t have regular-sized bars on hand.
Be careful not to overbake these. Because the batter is divided between three pans, you’ll have thinner layers that will bake quickly.
Let cake cook completely before frosting. Warm cakes will melt the frosting.
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