I take a pretty authoritarian stance on brownies. If they’re not dense and fudgy (to the point of being mud-like in the middle), with a paper-thin crispy layer on top, I won’t even call them brownies ― they’re a chocolate traybake at that point.
And I’m as stringent with carrot cake, I’m afraid.
I wasn’t always this way. Both rules are born out of deeply disappointing bites ― in the latter case, dry, crumbly, poorly iced concoctions haunt me.
So, in my hunt for the perfect recipe, I was on the lookout for the following: I wanted a big, moist crumb, a thick cream cheese icing, a decent balance of spices and the perfect balance of juicy fried fruit and buttery walnuts.
I tried four recipes in my quest, including some from Gordon Ramsay, Nigella Lawson and even Mary Berry.
While I liked some elements of all of them (in fact some made me alter my tried and true go-to), none of them beat my favourite childhood option.
What works, and doesn’t work, in carrot cake?
There were some standout inclusions in the celeb recipes I tried.
Mary Berry whacks some ginger into the batter, which really brings out the brightness of the veg (it’s lovely in carrot soup too). She also adds walnuts directly into the batter, which I think adds a perfect soft-to-crunch texture.
Muscavado sugar, which is moodier and funkier than the regular kind, produces a caramel flavour. The cake relies on sunflower oil for fat rather than butter, which ensures the cake’s crumb is light enough to hold dense, damp carrot shreds.
Nonetheless, I found her option a little dry and I missed the juiciness of dried fruit.
Gordon Ramsay adapted the recipe into carrot cake macaroons, which I thought I’d try. Desiccated coconut was a welcome addition, but come on ― it’s not a cake. And why is everyone against dried fruit?
Nigella includes crystallised ginger in her recipe (genius), adds walnuts into the mix (check), uses light brown sugar and doesn’t use self-raising flour.
That last point was helpful in the recipe I ended up making. Good carrot cake almost drowns in heavy liquid components, so you’ll likely need more raising agents than pre-mixed self-raising flour has.
Even though most recipes add baking soda too, it’s good to be able to have 100% control over the leavening agents here.
Nonetheless, even the queen of cakes’ recipe wasn’t quite perfect for me ― I wanted something softer, lighter, and less ginger-heavy (Nigella put two forms in the cake and added both spices and crystallised ginger to the icing too).
So what’s the best recipe?
I always think flour company Odlum’s baking recipes are Ireland’s best-kept secret. I’ve sworn by their carrot cake advice for years (with some modifications).
Their recipe includes orange zest, which brings out the sunnier flavours hiding in carrot shreds. Like Mary Berry, they use light muscovado sugar and sunflower oil ― they add cinnamon and nutmeg too and suggest optional sultanas.
Having tried multiple chef’s options, I still like this one most for its tender but dense crumb and gently zingy flavours.
But I haven’t left the pros’ masterclasses empty-handed. Instead of chucking out the oranges after zesting them, I squeeze their juice into a bowl and let a half dried cranberry, half crystallised ginger mix sit in it for at least an hour. Those soaked fruits take the place of sultanas.
Like Nigella, I also add my own teaspoon of baking powder to plain flour rather than using self-raising flour. That helps me to control my rise.
Mary Berry and Nigella taught me it’s useful to add some butter to the cream cheese icing. This gives it some extra hold at room temperature – whack in some cornstarch too if you like a stiffer bite.
I also add chopped walnuts and a half teaspoon of ground ginger to the batter for an extra fiery kick. And as for the placement of the icing, that was at my boyfriend’s request ― he likes the stuff both running through and sitting on top of his annual birthday carrot cake.
I am normally with Nigella on this though ― I wish I had left it “only on top, not running through the middle as well.”