This one is an oldie but a goodie—it dates from Christmas 2010, back when the kitchen was my oyster, work wasn't requiring every second of my days, and my checking account still had no idea how hard it was about to be hit by overzealous trips to the grocery store.
As a rule I'm not much of a sweets person, and particularly not a dessert-for-breakfast sort of girl. (I will spare you my diatribe on the evils of "doughnuts," which is apparently Latin for "stale bread covered in snot." That counts as sort of sparing you, right?)
But as on most occasions, that sensibility was set to rights by Ina Garten, once upon a time many years ago when I first made her Sour Cream Coffee Cake. (Please click on that link and tell me that Sandra Lee's cracked-out Cocktail Time ad is popping up in the right-hand sidebar. It's completely worth the visit to foodnetwork.com, one of the worst Web sites on the Internets. I heart you, Food Network, but your carrier pigeon-style search engine and resulting desperate error messages do you no favors.)
Where was I? Ah, yes. Sour cream coffee cake, with a sweet, nutty streusel (yes, it's still nutty if you omit the nuts) and a decadent glaze. It was my first foray into the world of the bundt pan, too, which was nonstick and worked beautifully, contrary to my every expectation. JBSH and TFin subsequently gifted it to me (their bundt cake-making days being few and far between), and it is now one of my most treasured kitchen implements. Despite all its nooks and crannies it's infinitely forgiving—no matter my lazy buttering/flouring attempts, each cake I've made in it slides out placatingly every time.
But Ina, as we all know, is a girl who loves her ingredients, and even without the walnuts I'm counting 16 different pieces to her puzzle. There were already a lot of dishes planned for that Christmas morning, with LSis's breakfast casseroles and my Easy Cheese Danish (also courtesy la Contessa), so I was craving something simpler.
As you may have guessed from my ongoing obsession with sriracha, I am a lady who loves her spice, so I was instantly sold on Sing for Your Supper's Cinnamon Pound Cake. Only seven ingredients and a procedure that is 80% "stir it together and pour into pan"—even a notorious baking disaster such as myself can manage to pull that off.
I've made this now a few times, and that sweet-hot cinnamon-sugar crust is perfection, like a snickerdoodle pound cake. (HA! Remember these? Good times.) I have tweaked the recipe a bit—my current favorite approach is to stir in semisweet chocolate chips (they MUST be semisweet or darker; milk chocolate would be too cloying here) and to add, sinfully I admit, the glaze from Ina's coffee cake. It does skew things even sweeter, but I just can't resist the combination of maple syrup and cinnamon.
Remember, because we're making this cake in place of coffee cake, that makes it breakfast, and therefore above dietary reproach. So have three slices.
Cinnamon-Chocolate Pound Cake with Maple Glaze
4 tablespoons granulated sugar, divided
2 tablespoons cinnamon, divided
1 box butter cake mix (I used Duncan Hines's Butter Golden mix.)
1 (4-serving size) package instant vanilla pudding
½ cup canola oil
8 ounces sour cream
8 ounces semisweet chocolate chips, optional
½ cup confectioners' sugar
2 tablespoons pure maple syrup
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter a bundt pan.
2. Stir together 2 tablespoons sugar and 1 tablespoon cinnamon; sprinkle mixture into buttered bundt pan, tilting pan to coat bottom and sides evenly. Combine remaining 2 tablespoons sugar, remaining 1 tablespoon cinnamon, cake mix, pudding, canola oil, sour cream, eggs, and chocolate chips, if desired. Pour into prepared bundt pan, and bake 45 to 50 minutes or until cake is springy. Let cool in pan 20 minutes.
3. Remove from pan to wire rack, and let cool completely. Meanwhile, whisk together confectioners' sugar and maple syrup, adding a few drops of water, if necessary, to reach the desired consistency. Drizzle over cooled cake. Makes 8 to 10 servings.