Wacky Cake Revisited

As more people are vaccinated and lockdowns lift, social life is gradually resuming. People are once more gathering and eating together.

Sooner or later, you may be invited someplace, and you may be asked to bring a dessert.

Many people, rightly or not, find the entire business of baking anxiety-inducing. This, of course, due to social media, where many of desserts wouldn’t be out of place on British Bake Off. Were this not enough, many people feel buying a dessert, no matter how nice, is somehow “cheating.”

Given world events, fretting over cakes is ridiculous in the extreme. Duly recognized.

Also difficult to illustrate photographically.

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If you are a nervous baker–and having noted the above, most of us are nervous, period–then the Wacky Cake is for you.

Here is a cake best described as “wholesome.” Vegetable oil makes for a moist crumb, while a scant cup of sugar lends just enough sweetness. Baking soda and vinegar–yes, vinegar–create a texture simultaneously light yet dense enough to eat without a fork, a convenience in these pandemic times.

Best of all, the Wacky cake is absurdly easy to make: one bowl, one spoon, one square pan easily found in the supermarket. Further, the wacky uses no eggs or dairy, making it suitable for vegans and observant Jews. It’s also a good keeper, thanks to the vegetable oil.

A few points for a finer cake:

Recipes for the Wacky abound; Anne Byrne, writing in American Cake, gives a recipe yielding a 13×9 inch cake.  Michele Urvater’s  indispensable Chocolate Cake gives a recipe for an 8×8 inch cake, which I use more often.

Every Wacky recipe I’ve read calls for generic “vegetable oil.” More specifically, I’ve had the best results using canola and sunflower oils. Avoid olive oil, as the flavor is too intense, and don’t even think of pouring your fancy nut oils into this cake. Save them for tomato season.

After using cider, white, and white wine vinegars in various Wackies, I find a white wine vinegar with 6% acidity. is ideal. A fresh vinegar makes a real difference; if your cupboard sports six open bottles of vinegar dating back to 2012, it’s time for a fresh bottle. Just like the oils, this is not the place for your 40-year-old Italian Balsamic.