You know that moment when you look at your youngest child , and you swear it was just yesterday that he was a tiny, rambunctious kid stealing your snacks and pretending to be a superhero? Yeah, well, it’s happening. Ivy’s baby brother Zander is turning 18. 18, people. He’s legally an adult. A full-blown human being who can vote, buy a car, and probably open up a bank account without needing me to co-sign. I’m sure he’s thrilled. But me? I’m over here trying not to have a full-on heart attack at the thought of this kid growing up too fast. Seriously, I swear time is just doing whatever it wants lately and not even asking for my permission. Which is not ok. I’m too young to have two adult children, right? RIGHT!?!

Anyway, how am I coping with this deep, existential crisis? Well, like any reasonable adult with way too much emotional baggage—by baking a birthday cake. But not just any cake. No. I’m baking a practice cake. You see, Zander has requested chocolate for his birthday this year. And by requested, I mean, he demanded chocolate. If you’re ever unsure of what someone wants, just remember: chocolate is always the answer.

Now, let’s talk about why I’m doing a practice run. Besides the obvious “I like cake” reason, there’s the small matter of high altitude baking. If you live at a higher elevation, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Baking here is like doing an advanced math problem with frosting as a reward. The atmospheric pressure messes with your cake’s chemistry, and before you know it, your beautiful, fluffy cake is a sad, deflated pancake that’s somehow still delicious but lacks all the pizzazz it deserves. So, this practice cake is not only a test for taste, but a test for structure.

But here’s the good news: I’m prepared. I’ve learned the hard way (trust me) that when baking in high altitudes, you need to adjust your recipe a little bit. What works at sea level is not gonna fly up here. If you don’t make some tweaks, you might end up with a cake that could have been a showstopper but instead is the unfortunate result of gravity having its way.

So, here’s the trick:

1. Increase your oven temperature by 10–15°F. You’re going to need the heat to work a little harder to make sure your cake rises properly.
2. Reduce the leavening (baking soda/baking powder) by 1/4 to 1/2. Otherwise, you’ll end up with a cake that just can’t hold it together. It’ll puff up and then collapse like a tired balloon.

This is why we do a practice run, folks. You get to eat chocolate cake twice (thank you, universe), and you also get to not ruin your son’s birthday. I am here for that. And after I polish off this cake, I’ll have the peace of mind knowing that Zander’s birthday cake will be a perfect, chocolatey masterpiece that doesn't fall apart or give anyone a weird aftertaste.

The Recipe You Didn’t Know You Needed: High Altitude Chocolate Cake with Fudgy Frosting

Alright, enough chit-chat. Let’s get to the good stuff—the recipe. So if you’re living at a high altitude and you’re feeling fancy (and a little emotional about your youngest growing up), this cake will work wonders. I’m not saying it’s a miracle worker, but I am saying that once you taste it, you might find yourself forgetting about your problems—if only for a few minutes.

Ingredients for the Cake:

• 1 and 3/4 cups all-purpose flour (plus a little extra for dusting the pans)
• 1 and 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup unsweetened dutch process cocoa powder (trust me, the good stuff)
• 1/2 tsp espresso powder (it wont make it coffee tasting, it’s just going to make that chocolate SING!)
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• 2 large eggs, room temperature (don't skip this!)
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 cup whole milk (buttermilk works even better if you’ve got it)
• 1/2 cup vegetable oil
• 1 cup boiling water (yes, this is going to be a bit messy, but it’s worth it!)

Instructions for the Cake:

1. Preheat your oven to 350°F (you might need to go a smidge higher if you’re at a serious altitude, like 360°F which is what I do).
2. Line 3 8 inch pans with parchment paper and then give them a coating of baking spray. This is important. You do not want to end up with a cake that sticks to the pan. Trust me.
3. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cocoa powder, espresso powder and sugar. You’re looking for a smooth, even mixture here.
4. Add the eggs, vanilla extract, milk, and oil to the dry ingredients. Mix until it’s nice and smooth. Then, pour in the boiling water and stir it all together. The batter will be thin—that’s okay! This is what’s going to make it all gooey and perfect.
5. Divide the batter evenly between the two pans.
6. Bake for about 30–35 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean from the center of the cakes. (But honestly, it’s chocolate, so let’s not pretend you won’t eat a little bit of the undercooked batter.)
7. Let the cakes cool completely before frosting. This step is crucial unless you want your frosting to melt into a sad puddle of chocolate sadness.

Fudgy Chocolate Frosting Ingredients:

• 1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
• 1/2 cup unsweetened dutch process cocoa powder
• 3 cups powdered sugar (I know, I know, but trust me)
• 3 tbsp whole milk (or more if you need it)
• 3 tbsp light corn syrup (it’s what makes it shiny)
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• Pinch of salt (just a pinch)

Instructions for the Frosting:

1. In a medium saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat. Whisk in the cocoa powder and cook for about 1 minute.
2. Remove from the heat and whisk in the powdered sugar, vanilla, milk, corn syrup and salt. Beat until smooth and creamy. If it’s too thick, add a little more milk. If it’s too runny, add a little more powdered sugar.
3. Frost your cooled cake and enjoy!

There you have it: the chocolate cake that will be the hero of Zander’s 18th birthday and, honestly, my emotional breakdown. Because if this cake doesn’t help me get through the fact that my baby is 18, I don’t know what will.

Also, pro tip: Always make a little extra frosting. For obvious reasons. You’ll thank me later.