If you grew up in England, or somewhere in proximity to British candy and grocery brands, you might have fond memories of eating Terry’s Chocolate Orange, a round orb of chocolate flavored with orange oil that “peels” apart in sections to mimic the shape of a real orange. I didn’t experience one until after college, when I used to frequent a tiny British sweets and tea shop in the West Village (which felt like stepping into the pages of a picture book set in a small town in 1950s England). I’d stand in the dim light of the shop, ogling the unfamiliar packages and wrappings: Cadbury flake bars and Rowentree fruit gums and McVitie’s Jaffa cakes and Fortnum & Mason lemon curd. Reading the names off the candy shelf sounded like something out of Harry Potter: fizzers and chewits and salted sweet cats and licorice sherbet sticks and peppermint creams.
Chocolate Orange has a bit of a cult following, as any great candy does. But after one taste, I realized I do not count myself as a fan. There’s something off-putting to me about the combination of chocolate and citrus: the tart, sunny, bracing flavor of the latter at odds with the creamy, rich intensity of the former. You’d think the bitterness of both would pair well, but to me it doesn’t.
So it’s extremely rare (and a pleasant surprise) whenever I do come across a dessert that combines that two and I love it. I can count these times on one hand—like the tender, crumbly lemon butter cookies we’d have at Christmastime, shaped into pretty lined squares by a cookie press. One corner was dipped delicately in dark chocolate. The ice cream shop in my college town occasionally featured a dark chocolate orange sorbet which I would not have kicked out of bed, to put it mildly.
So, it happens. But not often. And yet I recently found myself with half a container of sour cream in the refrigerator and no cake in the house.
I had to remedy the second bit (no household should be without emergency cake!), and using up the sour cream seemed like a wise move. I don’t even remember why I’d gotten it, and didn’t anticipate using it in the regular course of the week’s meals.
I scrounged about, noting the few oranges rolling about in my crisper drawer (I know, I know, refrigerating these is odd but I like eating them cold!).
Why it struck me suddenly that I had to make a chocolate chunk sour cream cake with orange zest, I can’t tell you. As we’ve determined above, I don’t even like chocolate with orange! But a sour cream cake sounded too plain. And a citrus sour cream cake sounded…well, a bit too sophisticated. I wanted something homey and substantial. I wanted a cake with heft: one that would freeze well, and also one with enough good bits hidden inside (hello, chocolate chunks) so you get extra excited about taking the next bite.
I searched for recipes in vain. There is a truly bizarre dearth of sour cream chocolate chunk citrus cakes online! (Okay, I know, it’s a bit of a niche category. But still! On the entire internet!) I found one on my friend Ali’s wonderful blog (Alexandra Cooks), but upon discussing it with her, she told me the recipe had gotten mixed reviews. I found a brown sugar sour cream pound cake on King Arthur’s website, and figured that would be a good starting point.
I reduced the sugar and upped the vanilla. I added lots of citrus zest and juice (I did a combination of yuzu and orange but yuzu is tough to find, so just orange is how I’ve written it) and folded in dark chocolate chunks at the end. I subbed a bit of the flour for almond flour, which—in combination with sour cream—makes it extra moist.
And the best part is my new method for ensuring Bundt cakes never stick: sugaring the pan. This works like a charm, every time. It also creates this stunningly chewy, caramelized sugar crust on the outside of your cake.
Guys. This cake. It is really, really, really good. I probably didn’t go about talking it up properly throughout this post, but please believe me and give it a shot! It’s dense and tender with a lovely crumb, golden crust, and just enough orange flavor. You could also use other citrus zest I think with no problem.
Dark Chocolate Orange Sour Cream Cake
Makes one large Bundt cake
1 cup (227g) unsalted butter, at room temperature
3/4 cup (160g) packed brown sugar
1/2 cup (99g) granulated sugar
juice and zest of 3 oranges
2 eggs, at room temperature
1 3/4 cups (210g) all-purpose flour
1/4 cup (24g) almond flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup (227g) sour cream, at room temperature
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup dark chocolate chunks
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Grease a 10-cup Bundt pan very thoroughly (I have the most success with Everbake pan spray) and then lightly sprinkle granulated sugar on the inside of the pan, tapping out any excess.
In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat the butter with both sugars and the orange zest until light and fluffy, about 3 to 5 minutes at medium-high speed.
Add the eggs, one at a time, and beat until well-combined, scraping down the bowl as needed.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, almond flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
Add half the flour mixture to the egg/sugar mixture and mix until just combined. Add the sour cream, orange juice, and vanilla, and mix until just combined. Add the remaining flour mixture and mix until the batter comes together with no dry streaks (you can switch to a spatula here and fold it in if you prefer).
Fold in the chocolate chunks with a spatula and scrape the batter into your prepared pan.
Bake for about 50 to 60 minutes, or until a tester inserted in the center comes out without any wet batter clinging to it.
Remove the pan from the oven and let the cake cool in the pan for about 15 minutes. When it first comes out, I like to run a mini offset spatula around the top edges (or wherever I can fit the spatula) to loosen it slightly and encourage it to release neatly.
Don’t try to flip the cake before 15 minutes! It will be too warm and will likely fall apart. But you don’t want to wait much longer than 15 minutes or the sugar coating will start to harden, also causing sticking.
Place a plate over the cake pan and flip it out onto the plate, then back onto a wire rack to finish cooling fully before slicing.