Monster Cake
Human friends! While I tried my darnedest to push my grilled cheese agenda on all y’all with TWEET CUTE, the biggest post-read request I have received is the recipe for the glorious fever dream that is Monster Cake. Truth be told, I made up Monster Cake in a semi-delirious state at five in the morning during a writing sprint while drafting the book in 2018, and immediately feared I had flown too close to the sun. But after some delicious trial and error, I am happy to present to you a legitimate recipe for Monster Cake that I am 98.9% certain will not give anyone salmonella.
Firstly, though, an extreme shout-out to my partner-in-baking-crime Lily, the sister who aided and abetted in these shenanigans. And also shout-out to my mom for letting us tear up her kitchen with all of its glorious pink accessories, especially because my landlord has been playing a fun game where I’m like “hey, my oven doesn’t work,” and six months later he texts back, “Happy Thanksgiving!” (Hahaha help.)
Without any further ado, here is a full list of everything you’re going to need to make this grocery store candy aisle nonsense, assuming we don’t get beaten up by the Pillsbury Dough Boy for trying to make this nightmare/dream a reality.
Ingredients for Monster Cake
A box of Funfetti cake mix*
A box of chocolate brownie mix*
Edible cookie dough (or cookie dough you make without eggs)
A tub of vanilla frosting
A bag of Rolos
A bag of Reese’s
A box of Oreos
Googly eyes
A general attitude of lawlessness and disrespect for ovens
(*You’re also gonna need eggs/oil/water and all the jazz associated with your Funfetti and brownie mixes.)
Step one. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Step two. Turn on Taylor Swift, era of your choice.
Step three. BECAUSE I SAID SO, IS WHY.
Step four. Mix the brownie batter and cake batter in two separate bowls, and set aside.
Step four. Chop your ingredients. We laid out 16 Rolos, chopped 12 Oreos into fourths, and chopped eight Reese’s Cups into fourths. But this does not by any means need to be precise. LEAN INTO THE ANARCHY.
Step five. Divide your candy in half. Unceremoniously dump the first half in the brownie mix, and the second half in the cake mix, and swirl ‘em up.
Step six. Grease the heck out of the unsuspecting baking dish you’re about to unleash this on. (We had enough mix two do two entire pans of this, and used 8-inch x 12-inch glass baking dishes, but you can improvise.)
Step seven: Put globs of the cake and the brownie mix into the pans. Then take a fork and whoosh it around. A controlled whoosh, if you will. You want the brownie and the cake batter to be separate enough that they bake as separate gooey entities.
Step eight: Stick it in the oven for 20 minutes. Eat from the edible cookie dough. Shake and shimmy to some Swift.
Step nine. Pull the Monster Cake out of the oven, and stick balled up globs of edible cookie dough on top of it. Stick it back in the oven for another ten minutes.
Step ten. Behold the majesty of your Monster Cake while waiting an hour-ish for it to cool down. (I mean, I did not wait that long because I took it almost immediately to the face, but if you want to make it look fashion then def wait.)
Step eleven. Stick the googly eyes on your cake and give it a lil squiggle mouth. Or do what my sister did and indiscriminately pour icing and eyeballs all over it. (The pic of hers is up top, because it is truly an aesthetic and deserved to be admired.)
Step twelve. Pose for so many photos that the family dogs get concerned that you are no longer sentient, but instead a cardboard cutout of yourself holding cake.
Step thirteen. CONSUME.
Pro-tips:
You could slightly underbake it for an ooey-gooier mess. If you’re worried about raw eggs and your mortality, you can swap out eggs for something like applesauce.
We preferred it a little heavier on the brownie than the cake, if you can swing it. Also, you can never have too many Rolos.
It is EXTREMELY DELICIOUS with a pinch of salt on top!
