Brooklyn Blackout Cake Recipe

It was 3 a.m., dead winter in a tiny Brooklyn kitchen, and the radiator had one job—it failed it. I was freezing. But I had this craving I couldn’t shake—that cake. You know the one. Deep, dark, scandalously moist. That cake that looks like it could knock out a heavyweight. Brooklyn Blackout Cake. Born from the shadows of WWII and baked into New York’s food soul like it owns a rent-controlled apartment there.

But here’s the twist: this isn’t just a chocolate cake. No. It’s a full-throttle chocolate assault. Layers of devil’s food so dark they whisper secrets. Pudding that clings like memory. And a finish of cake crumbs so savage, so iconic, it doesn’t just decorate—it dominates.

This is blackout cake. And you’re about to make it better than any bakery in Brooklyn ever dared.

What Makes Brooklyn Blackout Cake Special?

Let’s clear the air—this isn’t your grandma’s Sunday chocolate layer cake. This beast was born at Ebinger’s Bakery in Brooklyn, sometime in the 1940s. Why “blackout”? No, not just the color. It was named after the blackout drills during WWII—yep, when New Yorkers pulled their curtains tight and waited in the dark.

But the cake? Anything but a waiting game.

It’s built different:

• Ultra-dark chocolate cake made with cocoa so rich it bites back.
• Silky chocolate pudding as the filling and frosting.
• Crumbled cake pressed all over like it’s wearing its own chocolate armor.

A sugar bomb? Yeah. Worth it? Absolutely.

Ingredients & Substitutions

Get this wrong and your cake’s just another brown round. Get it right, and you’re a legend at every table.

For the Cake:

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• ¾ teaspoon salt
• ¾ cup Dutch-process cocoa powder (don’t you dare sub regular, unless you have to)
• 1¾ cups granulated sugar
• ¾ cup unsalted butter, softened
• 3 large eggs
• 1½ teaspoons vanilla extract
• 1 cup buttermilk (full-fat only, if you please)
• 1 cup hot coffee (strong, dark, like your ex’s moods)

Substitutes? Sure:

• No buttermilk? Use whole milk + 1 tbsp vinegar. Let it sit.
• Vegan? Sub eggs with flax eggs, use vegan butter and plant milk.
• No Dutch-process cocoa? You can use natural, but cut the baking powder by half. Expect less depth.

For the Pudding:

• ½ cup Dutch-process cocoa powder
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• ¼ cup cornstarch
• ¼ teaspoon salt
• 2½ cups whole milk
• 3 egg yolks
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 2 tablespoons butter

Notes:

Use fresh eggs. Not just because we say it. Pudding made with eggs that have been lingering around too long? Tastes like cardboard memories.

Step-by-Step Instructions

This ain’t one-bowl-and-go. Respect the process.

Step 1: Make the Pudding First

Why? It needs time to cool and thicken. Otherwise, you’ll be chasing frosting down the sides of your cake like a bad breakup.

1. In a saucepan, whisk cocoa, sugar, cornstarch, salt.
2. Add milk gradually—no lumps, please.
3. Whisk in yolks. Gentle now.
4. Bring to a boil on medium heat. Stir like your life depends on it.
5. Boil 1 minute. Not 3, not 10. One.
6. Remove. Stir in butter and vanilla.
7. Transfer to a bowl. Plastic wrap directly on the surface. Chill it. Minimum 2 hours. Overnight? Even better.

Step 2: Bake the Cake

1. Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C). Grease and line two 9-inch cake pans.
2. Sift together flour, baking powder, soda, salt, cocoa.
3. Cream butter and sugar till pale and fluffy—like, really pale.
4. Add eggs one at a time. Beat after each. Don’t rush this part.
5. Stir in vanilla.
6. Alternate adding flour mixture and buttermilk. Begin and end with dry.
7. Pour in hot coffee. The batter will thin out. That’s gold.
8. Divide between pans. Bake 30–35 mins. Toothpick comes out with moist crumbs = done.
9. Cool in pans 10 minutes. Then flip onto racks. Let ’em cool completely.

Mistakes to dodge:

• Overbaking. This cake dries faster than a dad joke at a teenager’s party.
• Not cooling the cakes. Warm cake + pudding = chocolate landslide.

Step 3: Assemble

1. Cut each cake horizontally into 2 layers. That gives you 4 rounds.
2. Crumble one round into fine crumbs. Set aside.
3. Stack 3 layers with pudding in between.
4. Frost the top and sides with the rest of the pudding.
5. Press cake crumbs onto the sides and top. Like a chocolate gravel path. Messy? Yes. Worth it? Absolutely.

Cooking Techniques & Science

Let’s get nerdy.

Why Dutch-process cocoa?
It’s alkalized. That means it’s smoother, darker, and less acidic. Gives a deeper chocolate flavor without the bitter edge.

Why use hot coffee?
It blooms the cocoa. Wakes it up. You want rich chocolate, not sleepy powder. Don’t worry, you won’t taste the coffee—it just intensifies the chocolate.

Cornstarch in the pudding?
Acts like a glue. Gives it that thick, glossy, luscious finish that clings to the spoon and whispers, “one more bite.”

Pudding as frosting?
Weird? Maybe. Genius? Absolutely. Buttercream would be overkill. The pudding keeps it moist and indulgent without turning it into a sugar brick.

Serving & Pairing Suggestions

Serve cold. Always cold. The pudding needs to set. That texture contrast between tender cake and silky pudding? Oh yes.

Presentation Tips:

• Use an offset spatula to swoop the pudding across the cake—don’t overthink it.
• Press crumbs with your hands, not a spoon. You need that tactile control.
• Chill the cake after frosting for at least 2 hours. Slice with a hot knife.

Pair it with:

• A tall glass of cold milk (obvious, but perfect)
• Bourbon spiked coffee
• Fresh raspberries or macerated cherries—bright acidity cuts the richness
• Salty snacks on the side (pretzels, salted almonds) for contrast

Final Thoughts: Why This Cake Still Slaps

Brooklyn Blackout Cake isn’t trendy. It doesn’t try to be Instagram cute. It’s messy. Bold. A little rude. But it delivers every damn time.

It’s a relic of Brooklyn grit. It’s indulgence without apology. It’s every chocoholic’s fever dream, layered with history and slathered in nostalgia.

Mess up the layers? Doesn’t matter. It’ll still taste like a thunderstorm of chocolate.
Forget the crumb coat? Who cares? You’re slapping crumbs on top anyway.

This cake is forgiveness baked into every bite. And honestly? That’s kinda beautiful.

FAQs: Brooklyn Blackout Cake

1. Can I make this cake in advance?
Yes! Bake the cake layers up to 2 days ahead. Wrap tightly. Pudding can be made the day before too. Assemble the day you’re serving for best texture.

2. Can I freeze it?
You can freeze the layers before assembly. Don’t freeze the pudding—texture will suffer. Fully assembled cake? Risky. But tightly wrapped slices? That works.

3. What’s the difference between this and a regular chocolate cake?
Three words: pudding as frosting. Also, the crumb coating gives it a signature texture and rustic look you won’t find in your average chocolate layer cake.

4. Can I make it gluten-free?
Yep. Use a high-quality 1:1 GF flour. Add ¼ teaspoon xanthan gum if it doesn’t include any. Expect slightly denser layers but still delicious.

5. How long does it last in the fridge?
3–4 days, covered. After that, it starts drying out. But let’s be honest—it probably won’t make it past day two.