Mexican Chocolate Custard Cake with Spiked Marshmallow Whipped Cream

Diego's science teacher called. Mrs. Gonzales wants Diego to apply for a STEM summer program at UTEP — a two-week intensive for gifted elementary students. It costs two hundred dollars, which is two hundred dollars I don't have, but the word "gifted" came out of a teacher's mouth about my son and I would sell the bakery ovens to pay for it. Not really. But almost. The point is: Diego is gifted. His teacher sees it. I see it. Rosa saw it — she told me once, on the phone, "That boy builds things the way his grandfather builds things, but better, because Diego builds things that think." Rosa said this and I wrote it down and it is in the notebook, not as a recipe but as a truth, and truths belong in notebooks alongside recipes because both are things you need to remember.

I asked Carmen if she could help with the cost. Carmen said she'd pay half. I said I'd cover the rest from the bakery account. Luis said we could make it work. We always make it work. Making it work is the Gutierrez family motto, and if we had a coat of arms it would feature a pair of hands holding an empty wallet and a spatula and the words "We'll figure it out" in Latin.

Isabella has been researching nursing programs. She is thirteen. The research is premature by most standards but perfectly on time by Isabella standards. She has a spreadsheet — a spreadsheet, at thirteen — listing universities with nursing programs, their acceptance rates, their tuition costs, and their proximity to El Paso. She showed it to me and I looked at it and said, "UTEP has a nursing program," and she said, "I know. It's number three on my list. But I want to see what else is out there." She is thirteen and she has a list and UTEP is number three and I am simultaneously proud and slightly offended that the university in our city is not number one, but I said nothing because Isabella's list is Isabella's list and my opinion was not requested.

I made machaca this week — dried shredded beef cooked with eggs and onion and green chile, the Chihuahuan breakfast that Rosa made every Saturday morning and that tastes like the desert and the dawn and the particular hunger of a person who has been awake since 5 AM and needs something substantial. Machaca is not delicate food. It is fuel. It is the food of workers and ranchers and women who run bakeries and need their bodies to carry them through twelve-hour shifts. I ate it at the kitchen counter at 3 AM before going to the bakery, standing up, the way Rosa ate — because sitting is for people who have time, and I don't have time, and Rosa didn't have time, and the women in my family eat standing up and make no apologies for it.

Luis fixed the van. The thing that had been making noises since March — ten months of noises — turned out to be a loose heat shield, which Ricardo said was a twenty-dollar part and a thirty-minute job, and I spent ten months worrying about a twenty-dollar part because worry doesn't ask how much things cost, worry just worries. The van is quiet now. The quiet is disorienting. I keep waiting for the noise and the noise doesn't come and I think: this is what healing feels like. Not the absence of the wound but the absence of the noise it made.

The machaca carried me through the week — the 3 AM mornings, the van worries, Isabella’s spreadsheet, all of it — but when Mrs. Gonzales used the word “gifted” about my son, machaca wasn’t the food that came to mind. That word deserved something from the bakery side of me, the side Rosa also carried. This Mexican chocolate custard cake is what I make when something actually goes right: dark with canela and good chile, topped with whipped cream that has no business being as good as it is. Diego doesn’t know it yet, but there will be one of these waiting when he comes home with that STEM program acceptance letter.

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr 10 min | Servings: 10

Ingredients

For the cake:
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup Dutch-process cocoa powder
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon (preferably canela)
1/4 teaspoon ancho chile powder
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup packed dark brown sugar
3 large eggs, room temperature
1/2 cup sour cream
1/2 cup whole milk
1/3 cup neutral oil (such as vegetable or avocado)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
4 oz Mexican chocolate (such as Abuelita or Ibarra), melted and slightly cooled
For the custard soak:
3/4 cup whole milk
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
2 oz Mexican chocolate, finely chopped
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
For the spiked marshmallow whipped cream:
1 cup heavy whipping cream, very cold
1/2 cup marshmallow creme (such as Jet-Puffed)
2 tablespoons Kahlua or coffee liqueur
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
Pinch of sea salt
For garnish:
Shaved Mexican chocolate or cocoa powder for dusting
Pinch of flaky sea salt

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9-inch round cake pan or an 8x8 baking dish and line the bottom with parchment paper. Set aside.
Mix the dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and ancho chile powder until fully combined.
Mix the wet ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk both sugars with the eggs until pale and slightly thickened, about 90 seconds. Add the sour cream, milk, oil, and vanilla and whisk until smooth. Stir in the melted Mexican chocolate.
Combine and bake. Fold the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients until just combined — do not overmix. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 38–45 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with just a few moist crumbs.
Make the custard soak. While the cake bakes, warm the milk, cream, and sugar in a small saucepan over medium-low heat, stirring until the sugar dissolves. Add the chopped chocolate and cinnamon, remove from heat, and stir until completely smooth. Set aside to cool slightly.
Soak the cake. Remove the cake from the oven. While still hot and in the pan, use a skewer or fork to poke holes all over the top. Pour the warm custard soak slowly and evenly over the surface, allowing it to absorb as the cake cools — at least 30 minutes before slicing.
Make the whipped cream. Beat the cold heavy cream with an electric mixer on medium-high until it begins to thicken, about 1 minute. Add the marshmallow creme, Kahlua, vanilla, and salt. Continue beating until soft, billowy peaks form. Do not overbeat. Refrigerate until ready to serve.
Serve. Cut the cooled cake into slices and top generously with the spiked marshmallow whipped cream. Dust with shaved Mexican chocolate or cocoa powder and a pinch of flaky salt.

Nutrition (per serving)

Mexican Chocolate Custard Cake with Spiked Marshmallow Whipped Cream — When "Gifted" Calls for Something Worth Celebrating