Ebinger’s Yellow Cake with Chocolate Frosting: Why New York Still Can’t Let Go

Ebinger’s Yellow Cake with Chocolate Frosting: Why New York Still Can’t Let Go

The Brooklyn of 1950 wasn’t just a place; it was a specific smell. If you grew up in Flatbush, Bay Ridge, or Brooklyn Heights, that smell was the intoxicating mix of sugar, high-quality butter, and cocoa wafting from a green-and-white cardboard box. Ebinger’s Baking Company was the undisputed king of the borough. People talk about the Blackout Cake—the dark, custard-filled legend that usually hogs the spotlight—but real locals know the truth. Ebinger’s yellow cake with chocolate frosting was the quiet, daily hero of the New York dessert scene. It was the birthday staple. The "just because" Sunday treat.

It’s been decades since the last Ebinger’s storefront closed its doors in 1972, yet the obsession hasn't cooled. If anything, it’s fermented into a kind of culinary mythology.

The Chemistry of the Perfect Yellow Cake

What made it different? Most modern grocery store yellow cakes are basically sponges for vegetable oil and yellow dye #5. They’re springy, sure, but they taste like "sweet" and nothing else. Ebinger’s was a different beast. It relied on a high yolk count and a specific type of emulsified shortening that was common in mid-century professional bakeries but is hard for home cooks to replicate today.

The texture wasn't exactly light. It was dense. Not "brick" dense, but substantial enough to hold up against a thick layer of fudge without collapsing into a pile of crumbs. Honestly, it had a specific "tight" crumb that you only get when you cream butter and sugar for a lot longer than you think is necessary. Most people quit after two minutes. Ebinger’s bakers likely went for six or seven until the mixture was practically white.

Then there’s the frosting. Calling it "chocolate frosting" is kind of an insult. It was a fudge-style icing, cooked on a stove, that set with a slight sheen. It wasn't that fluffy, whipped buttercream stuff that tastes like a stick of Crisco mixed with powdered sugar. It was deep, dark, and slightly bitter, providing the necessary counterweight to the rich, buttery yellow sponge underneath.

Why the "Box" Mattered

You can’t talk about Ebinger’s without talking about the box. It was tied with a specific brown-and-white butcher’s twine. There was a ritual to it. You’d bring it home, snip the string, and the smell of that chocolate would hit you before the lid was even fully off. It’s a psychological trigger. When people try to recreate Ebinger’s yellow cake with chocolate frosting today, they aren't just chasing a flavor profile. They’re chasing a memory of a specific Sunday afternoon in a kitchen that probably doesn't exist anymore.

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The Great Recipe Mystery

When Ebinger’s went bankrupt in 1972, they didn't just hand out the recipe cards to the New York Times. The formulas were proprietary. They were industrial secrets. This has led to fifty years of "detective baking."

George and Catherine Ebinger started the business in 1898, and by the time they peaked, they had over 50 locations. They weren't using "cups" and "teaspoons." They were using hundred-pound bags of flour and industrial-scale mixers. When you scale those recipes down for a 9-inch round pan, something almost always gets lost in translation.

Many believe the "secret" was the use of Dutch-processed cocoa in the frosting, which gives it that signature dark hue and mellows out the acidity. Others swear by the addition of a little bit of malt or even a hint of coffee to deepen the chocolate notes. As for the cake, the use of cake flour—low protein, high starch—is non-negotiable. If you use All-Purpose, you’ve already lost. You’ll end up with bread, not a Brooklyn legend.

Misconceptions About the Frosting

A common mistake? Using a standard American buttercream.

  1. Ebinger’s didn't do "gritty" sugar.
  2. The frosting had a "melt-in-your-mouth" quality that usually comes from a cooked flour frosting (sometimes called Ermine frosting) or a boiled fudge icing.
  3. It wasn't overly sweet.

The contrast is the key. You want the cake to be the sweet, vanilla-forward component and the frosting to be the sophisticated, slightly salty chocolate punch. If both are sugary, the whole thing becomes a one-note mess.

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Why We Are Still Obsessed in 2026

You’d think with the rise of artisanal, deconstructed, sea-salt-sprinkled everything, we’d move past a simple yellow cake. We haven't. Actually, there's been a massive swing back toward "heritage baking."

People are tired of cakes that look great on Instagram but taste like cardboard. They want the stuff their grandparents talked about. The Ebinger’s yellow cake with chocolate frosting represents a time before "low-fat" and "sugar-free" hijacked the American palate. It was unapologetic. It used real ingredients and didn't care about your macros.

The Entropy of Taste

There’s a concept in food history where flavors actually "drift" over generations. The butter we buy today doesn't taste like the butter from 1940. The soil the wheat grows in has changed. Even the chocolate fermentation processes have evolved. This makes the "perfect" recreation of an Ebinger’s cake a moving target. You can get close—maybe 95% of the way there—but that last 5% is the ghost of Brooklyn’s past.

How to Get the Ebinger’s Experience Today

Since you can't walk into a shop on Flatbush Avenue anymore, you have to be resourceful. If you’re going to bake this at home, you need to be precise. Don't eyeball the measurements. Use a scale.

The Cake Base
Look for a "High-Ratio" yellow cake recipe. This is a professional term for cakes where the sugar weight is equal to or greater than the flour weight. This creates the moist, tight crumb that Ebinger’s was famous for. Use high-quality vanilla—not the imitation stuff. We’re talking about the good Madagascar Bourbon vanilla. It makes a difference in the floral notes of the yellow sponge.

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The Fudge Icing
You want a recipe that involves cooking cocoa, sugar, and milk or cream on the stove until it reaches a certain temperature (usually around 230°F to 234°F, the "soft ball" stage). Then, you beat it as it cools. This creates a crystalline structure that is smooth but firm. It’s finicky. If you overcook it, you have fudge candy. If you undercook it, it runs off the cake. But when you hit that sweet spot? It’s magic.

Where to Buy (The Closest Substitutes)

Some bakeries in New York still try to carry the torch.

  • Entenmann’s: Some say their "Black & White" or basic chocolate-frosted yellow cake is a distant, mass-produced cousin, but it lacks the soul.
  • Junior’s: Mostly famous for cheesecake, but their layer cakes carry some of that old-school Brooklyn DNA.
  • Bay Ridge Specialty Shops: Occasionally, you'll find a neighborhood bakery run by someone whose uncle worked at the original Ebinger’s plant. These are the gold mines.

Actionable Steps for the Aspiring Baker

If you want to experience the closest thing to a real Ebinger’s yellow cake with chocolate frosting, stop looking for a "shortcut" recipe.

  • Step 1: Separate your eggs. Use the whites for something else and use only the yolks for the cake. This provides that deep yellow color and the fatty, rich mouthfeel.
  • Step 2: Sift three times. Old-school bakers sifted their flour and leavening agents multiple times to ensure perfect distribution. No lumps allowed.
  • Step 3: Temperature control. Ensure your butter and eggs are at exactly 65-70°F. If the butter is too soft, the emulsion breaks. If it's too cold, it won't trap air.
  • Step 4: The Frosting Wait. Let the cake cool completely. Better yet, let it sit for a few hours. A slightly "settled" cake handles the heavy fudge frosting much better than a fresh-out-of-the-oven one.

Ebinger’s may be gone, but the standard they set remains the benchmark for what a "real" cake should be. It wasn't about the fluff; it was about the flavor. It was about a green box and a piece of string. And honestly, it was about a city that knew exactly what it liked.