Prayer Night and Depression Era Cake

Prayer Night happens each and every Monday on the Farm, and it has been happening for a little over four years now (at that time the churches stopped meeting, so I set up a meeting here instead, in the way of this Prayer Night). Most of the original people who came have moved away (the Farm is located in a state where things like having meetings when the churches are closed is frowned upon, so there were some of us who felt they’d rather live in another state where the frowning didn’t happen), but there are still a few of us who meet and pray, and of course, because I’m the host, it begins with a meal and ends with dessert. We each bring a dish* (we Lutherans like to call that a potluck) which we all share from, but I like to make a meal-type dish and a dessert just in case everyone else forgot to bring something, we could still have a meal together. Tonight, I’m making chili, which feels like a strange choice considering the time of year, seeing as it is so warm and all, but really, it’s not. I have to empty those mason jars you know, and the chili base is one of the main culprits. So, chili it is. And for dessert, I have to be careful here. I myself would like to make a chamomile custard (the chamomile is in full bloom, and matched in a light, creamy custard is just divine), and I may do so in the next couple of days, but about half the people coming tonight are children. So, it’s best to play it safe. I’m thinking of going with a depression era chocolate cake (no eggs, milk, or butter used, although I always forget the part about the butter and stick some in anyway) with a chocolate glaze. Easy peasy, but delicious.

Depression Era Chocolate Cake with a Chocolate Glaze

The reason why this cake was so popular at the time was there were ration cards for things like butter, eggs, and milk. So, the inventive people of that time, who apparently still wanted cake, came up with a way to make one without any of those things. You might have heard it called a Wacky Cake, or Wack cake. It’s all the same and is rather delicious.

And this is how it is done:

A cup and a half of flour is mixed with a quarter cup cocoa powder, one cup sugar, one teaspoon baking soda and a half of salt. This is all stirred together and set aside while the wet ingredients are mixed. Now. As previously described, a true Depression cake has no butter, but I love butter, so that is what I use. Six tablespoons of it are melted (you can be a purist here and use another kind of oil) and to that is added one tablespoon apple cider vinegar, and one cup coffee (okay, water for most folks, but I’d hate to waste an opportunity for flavor). This is all stirred together and added to the dry mixture and poured into a lightly greased nine by thirteen pan and put in a preheated three-hundred-and-fifty-degree oven where it will bake for about twenty-five to thirty minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Like I said before, easy peasy.

Now. For that frosting. To make that, you take two tablespoons cocoa powder, a quarter cup sugar, one tablespoon corn syrup, two tablespoons butter and a quarter cup half and half and put them in a saucepan over medium heat and cook, stirring all the way. It will bubble. It will spurt. It will take about three minutes and then it is taken off the heat to settle a bit. Once it has, an ounce of dark chocolate is stirred in until all is smooth. Once it is, this can be poured over the cake. The cake can still be warm. The glaze can still be warm. So, this really is one of the easiest and quickest cakes you can make.

*More times than not, those who come to the prayer group tend to be on the same mindset about what to bring. One night we had nothing but potatoes in their various forms, another just desserts were to be had, on this night there was just a hint of that;  Janelle, the mother of some of those children, almost brought chili herself tonight, AND made this very same cake for her family just the night before—except she used a whipped peanut butter frosting—sounds delicious—I might have to try that next time.