Gingerbread Cake

If you stopped by my kitchen on a drizzly Sunday, there’s a decent chance you’d catch me pulling a Gingerbread Cake out of the oven and mumbling to myself about whether I remembered the salt. The smell is like opening a spice cupboard that’s been sitting in a sunbeam. My first go at this cake was for a neighbor who popped over with a new mug and left with half a pan, because we both lost all willpower after that first forkful. And yes, I once forgot the timer and had to shave off the edges, which turned out oddly deliciously caramelized. Happy accident, as my gran would say.

Why you’ll probably love this as much as I do

• I make this when the house feels a bit too quiet. The scent turns it into a hug with windows.
• My family goes a little bonkers for that molasses depth and the tender crumb. It’s not heavy, just cozy. Proper comfort.
• When I’m knackered after work, this is still doable. One bowl for wet, one bowl for dry, no faffy steps.
• I used to fight with sticky molasses on the measuring cup, but actually, I find it works better if I oil the cup first. No wrestling needed.
• It tastes even better the next day, I think, though it’s hard to prove because, well, we eat it.

What you’ll need, with a few easy swaps

• 2 cups all purpose flour, about 250 g
• 2 tsp ground ginger
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1/4 tsp ground cloves
• 1/4 tsp grated nutmeg
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp fine salt
• 1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled. I sometimes use 1/2 cup neutral oil when I’m in a hurry and it’s lovely.
• 3/4 cup dark brown sugar. My grandmother always insisted on a certain brand, but honestly any decent one works fine.
• 3/4 cup unsulphured molasses. If you’re curious about types, this piece from King Arthur Baking is super helpful.
• 1 large egg
• 1/2 cup milk or buttermilk
• 1/2 cup very hot water or hot coffee for extra depth
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• Optional but highly encouraged: zest of 1 orange, and a small handful of chopped crystallized ginger. Curious about stem ginger differences. Have a peek at BBC Good Food’s stem ginger glossary.

Let’s bake this, shall we

1. Heat the oven to 350 F or 180 C. Grease a 9 x 9 inch pan, then line the base with parchment because it keeps things neat. I call it non negotiable, even though later I’ll say you can skip it if you must.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, ginger, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. I give it a good minute so the spices really mingle.
3. In a large bowl, whisk the melted butter with the brown sugar until it looks glossy and a little thick. Add molasses and whisk again. This is where I usually sneak a taste, it’s like liquid gingerbread.
4. Whisk in the egg and vanilla until smooth. Then pour in the milk or buttermilk.
5. Now add the dry mix to the wet mix. Start whisking gently. Pour in the hot water or coffee in a slow stream as you whisk. Don’t worry if it looks a bit weird at this stage, it always does. The batter should end up pourable and silky.
6. Fold in orange zest and crystallized ginger if using. A few lumps are fine. Overmixing makes it sulky.
7. Scrape into the pan, level it out, give the pan a gentle tap on the counter to pop sneaky bubbles.
8. Bake for 30 to 38 minutes, until the center springs back and a tester comes out with just a few moist crumbs. Mine is usually perfect at 34, but ovens have moods.
9. Cool for 10 minutes on a rack, then lift out if you used parchment and cool completely. If you forgot parchment, loosen the edges with a butter knife and let it cool form the pan. A dusting of powdered sugar makes it look festive with zero effort.

Small digression while it cools. I tried reorganizing my spice drawer last winter and found three half used ginger jars skulking at the back. If that’s not a sign to bake cake, what is.

Notes I learned the messy way

• Molasses types vary. Blackstrap is more bitter and can make the cake drier. If it’s all you have, use half blackstrap and half honey or golden syrup.
• If your spices smell shy, they’ll taste shy. Rub a pinch between your fingers; if the fragrance blooms, you’re golden.
• Actually, I find it works better if the water is very hot rather than boiling. Boiling can seize the batter and make it gummy.
• Metal pan browns more than glass. Glass will take a couple more minutes.
• Curious about fresh versus ground ginger in baking. This Serious Eats explainer is a good rabbit hole.

Fun variations I’ve tried

• Orange glaze: whisk 3 tbsp orange juice with 1 cup powdered sugar and a pinch of salt. Pour over the cooled cake.
• Pear base: lay thin slices of ripe pear in the pan, sprinkle with a spoon of sugar, then add the batter. Upside down vibes, very hello.
• Chocolate chip sprinkle: a small handful of dark chips over the top before baking. They sink a little and make melty pockets.
• Lemon sauce: heat 1 cup water, 1/2 cup sugar, zest and juice of 1 lemon, a knob of butter, and thicken with 1 tbsp cornstarch. Spoon over warm slices.
• One that didn’t quite work: I swapped all the molasses for maple syrup once. Tasty, yes, but too soft and a bit flat on spice. I wouldn’t do that again.

Equipment, and what to do if you don’t have it

• 9 x 9 inch baking pan. A 8 inch square will work, just add 3 to 6 minutes.
• Whisk and a rubber spatula. I call a hand mixer essential when I’m feeling fancy, but honestly, a whisk works fine here.
• Parchment paper. If you’re out, butter the pan then dust with flour and call it good.
• Measuring cups and spoons, or a kitchen scale if you like being precise.

How I store it

Keep the Gingerbread Cake covered at room temp for 2 to 3 days. I think day two tastes best as the spices settle in. You can refrigerate up to 5 days, but bring slices to room temp before eating. Freezes well for up to a month, wrapped tightly. Though honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day.

How we like to serve

• Warm slice with a big spoon of lightly sweetened whipped cream. Simple is best.
• With vanilla ice cream and a drizzle of warmed honey for a Friday night treat.
• My little tradition is a slice with a cuppa after dinner, sitting by the window like a total nana, and I regret nothing.

Pro tips I learned the hard way

• I once tried rushing the cooling step and sliced too hot, regretted it because the crumb tore. Ten patient minutes makes clean slices.
• Overmixing after adding hot water makes the cake tight. Stir just until combined, then stop, hands off.
• I forgot the salt once. The cake tasted oddly flat, a little like a muted radio. That tiny 1/2 tsp matters.
• Grease the measuring cup for molasses so it slides right out. Or spray it. If not, you’ll be there scraping for ages. For more sticky measuring tricks, I like this quick tip from The Kitchn.

FAQ because you asked

Can I make this ahead
Absolutely. Bake the day before, wrap once cool, and leave at room temp. The flavor deepens and the crumb relaxes a bit.

Can I use blackstrap molasses
You can, but go half and half with regular molasses or honey. Straight blackstrap can make it too bitter and a touch dry.

How do I make it dairy free
Use oil instead of butter and a plant milk that you like. Oat milk gives a nice body. The cake stays moist.

Can I bake this in a loaf pan
Yes, in a standard 9 x 5 loaf. Lower the oven to 325 F and bake about 50 to 60 minutes. Check earlier just in case.

Why did my cake sink a bit in the middle
Usually overmixing or an oven that runs cool. Also, if it looked almost swimming when you poured it in, maybe hold back a splash of water next time.

Can I reduce the sugar
Sure. Drop the brown sugar to 1/2 cup. The molasses keeps it flavorful. Texture will be a touch less soft, still good.

Is fresh ginger okay here
Yup. Add a tsp of finely grated fresh ginger with the wet ingredients. I tend to think a mix of fresh and ground is best.

Any gluten free advice
A 1 to 1 gluten free blend works, but the cake is a bit more delicate. Line the pan and cool fully before slicing.

If you try this Gingerbread Cake, tell me how it went. Did you add orange, swap in coffee, or keep it classic. I’m nosy and I love your riffs, mate.