food

Dye Hard: a History of Red Velvet Cake

Part 1: The Victorian era - 1930

Red velvet cake is the stuff of legends. Whispered tales and conflicting accounts follow it wherever it goes.  Today’s incarnation of red velvet cake, an electric red substance that may or may not have a subtle hint of cocoa and slathered with a thick cream cheese frosting barely resembles its humble beginnings as a chocolate cake. So how did it get to be this Franken-color hybrid? For that, we have to take a trip in our Wayback Machine to the origins of velvet cake. (Note that a color wasn’t associated with it yet.)

Velvet Cake

Velvet cake dates back to the Victorian era. According to multiple sources, a velvet cake is simply a cake that has a light, airy, delicate, velvety crumb. “Velvet cakes, without the coloring, are older than Fannie Farmer. Cooks in the 1800s used almond flour, cocoa or cornstarch to soften the protein in flour and make finer-textured cakes that were then, with a Victorian flair, named velvet.” (New York Times) In his 1873 book Dr. Chase Allen Woods describes the newfangled velvet cake:  “There is quite a tendency of late to have nice and smooth names applied to things as well as to have nice things hence we have Velvet Cake.” This description sounds just like…well…cake. But back in the Victorian era, not all cake was created equal.

While there were forms of cake that got their lightness from whipping air into eggs (pound, genoise, sponge), the only way to chemically leaven a cake was through yeast.  Pre-19th century, the line between cake and bread was blurry. Typically, cakes were distinguished from bread because they were sweeter and included richer aspects like butter and eggs. Additional ingredients such as nuts and dried fruits were included to give cakes an added sweetness and to make them a treat. However, as we see today, the distinctions between cakes and breads were flexible. Today, we may classify desserts such as panettone or brioche as a bread, whereas a traditional fruitcake is a cake. In the 19th century, all of these could have been cake.

Yeast raising made these cakes incredibly labor-intensive, frequently taking more than a day to get through all of the proofing. Additionally, yeast did not come in little packets as it does today. In fact, it wasn’t until 1861 that microbiologist Louis Pasteur published his discovery of yeast. (Fun Fact: His work on killing unwanted organisms in wine also led to the creation of pasteurization.) Bakers needed a mother yeast strand, typically in the form of uncooked starter from a previous baking project or from the yeast taken from beer and other fermented drink or risk the flavor of a wild yeast strain. (Wild yeast is gathered simply by making a wet dough or batter from water and flour and leaving it sit to allow the wild yeast to find the space to grow. Environmental factors are important; it can't be too hot, too cold, or too dry or the wild yeast won't be available or won't prosper. And the flavor is highly variable.) Bakers were desperate for a way to replace yeast rising with something faster and more consistent.

The first attempt at a leavening substitution was potash (AKA pottasche, pearlash, potassium carbonate, salt of tartar, or carbonate of potash). Potash is a product made by pressing water through wood ash to create lye and then evaporating the water out. At first, it seemed to be a good substitute. However, it was known to leave an often-undesirable smoky flavor. Potash also didn't interact well in foods with a high-fat ratio (such as cake) as it would leave behind a soapy taste. As the Spruce Eats points out, this is unsurprising, as the two main ingredients in soap are lye and fat—a fact I learned from Fight Club.

In 1846, baking soda happened. Baking soda, when combined with an acid, such as vinegar, produces carbon dioxide. When used in a batter, you get a cake that has instant leavening with no soapy or ashy aftertaste; it was an immediate hit. We still use baking soda today for baking, cleaning, and science projects. It is a wonderful ingredient! The only drawback is that for it to create its bubbles, you need a reliable source of acid. While today store-bought buttermilk and vinegar are consistent in their acidity, it was hard to be sure in the mid-19th century just how acidic your buttermilk was, or how strong a reaction you would get.

Enter baking powder. In 1856 the first viable baking powder was patented in the US. Made from an extracted acid compound and baking soda mixed together, baking powder was truly a “just add water” product. When incorporated into any liquid, the baking soda and the acid in the powder would react with each other, causing carbonation. 

These products gave rise (pun intended) to the then entirely new genre of velvet cake.

When velvet cakes first came on the scene, they still contained many of the added flavors and ingredients of the bready cakes of yore. They would include things such as nuts and dried fruit for sweetness.  They were baked in long pans that we would now consider loaf bread tins.

Gradually, however, added sugar, sweet frostings, and fillings that we consider traditional to other forms of the different popular types of cake began to take over as the main sweetening agents. One of the first, and still most popular additions, was chocolate. Chocolate was very expensive, so initially, “chocolate cake” meant a yellow cake that had chocolate frosting or filling.

 The Red Color

Chocolate began being fully incorporated into cake as early as 1781 (Brave Tart) but didn't start to become really popular until 1893 when the April issue of Table Talk published a recipe for a fully chocolate "Devils Cake!" This was a moist, decadent cake consisting of a paste made from chocolate and boiled milk, and people began to incorporate chocolate into their cakes. Chocolate was still expensive, however, and as time went on, substitutions for the cheaper cocoa powder began to be made.

In 1911, the first recipe for “Velvet Cocoa Cake” with a thick boiled brown sugar frosting appeared in the Ohio Telegram.

Just a few years later, in 1914, the same recipe started showing up in newspapers across the US, and a craze had started. Through the nineteen-teens and twenties, the chocolate cake craze only continued to spread. And people began to comment on the red-brown color these cakes sometimes turned. But not all the chocolate cakes turned red. Recipes spread, and the tale of red cakes grew in popularity through the 1920s. People all across the United States wanted to try their hand at making not just a chocolate cake, but a red cake.  And at this point in the research, so did I.

The Re-Creation

The red or "devils" moniker came from a combination of using red sugar (brown sugar), and the red-brown hue the cake would take on when the chocolate and acid combination interacted. Chocolate, particularly raw cocoa powder, naturally contains red anthocyanin in it. When combined with an acid, it intensifies the anthocyanin notable red coloring. Coincidentally, this level of acid either from vinegar or buttermilk, was also necessary for baking soda to activate. This meant that cocoa cakes that used vinegar and baking soda as opposed to baking powder had a more noticeable red color.

Since names such as red cake, cocoa velvet, devil cake, and devil’s food, began to be used interchangeably, It is important to set up the distinction between a devil's food cake, red velvet cake, and other varieties. While the styles are all similar, there are important distinctions.

For this purpose, a devil’s food cake is a cake that traditionally involves brown sugar and chocolate, giving a deep black color. By contrast, a red velvet cake must be made with cocoa powder, an acid liquid such as buttermilk, and baking soda as the leavener, all reacting to give the cake a rich red-brown color. 

This important distinction helped in sifting through the old recipes and figuring out which ones count as “red velvet” and which are simply chocolate cakes.

I searched through several recipes, including one recipe from 1915 actually calls for fermenting the baking powder leavened cake overnight to produce a genuinely red color. 

This recipe from 1924 mentions the chemical interaction that gives its cake a red color.

I settled on a 1927 recipe, first appearing in the Richmond Item, for “Red Devil’s Food.”

While its title is that of devil's food cake, it carries all the hallmarks of red velvet. The recipe uses a buttermilk and baking soda base and gives the baker the option of cocoa powder and chocolate. It even calls for topping it with a traditional ermine (boiled milk) buttercream frosting. The recipe also had some of the most specific instructions for baking, actually giving a baking time and temperature, a true luxury when you work with old recipes.

I opted to use cocoa powder when making this recipe. I used raw cocoa powder, as it has the highest amount of anthocyanin. I was lucky and actually managed to find a large bag of raw cocoa at Costco. Still, Costco giveth, and it taketh away; you never know if they’ll have a product the next time you come to the store. If you are at the grocery store, a basic cocoa powder such as Hershey’s will do; it just won’t result in as deep a red color. But be sure your cocoa powder isn’t a Dutch or ‘special dark’ cocoa powder. There are important differences between the raw, processed, and Dutch. Raw cocoa powder is made from the raw, unroasted beans that have been crushed and had the cocoa butter removed. Heat has never been applied to it, which is why it retains the most anthocyanin. A typical processed cocoa powder, such as Hershey’s, has been roasted during the process, removing some of the anthocyanin and the resulting less red color than raw cocoa but leaving most. Dutch press, or ‘special dark’ cocoa, has gone through an alkalizing process, which gives the cocoa powder a much darker tone and prevents it from reacting with the baking soda because it has already been alkalized, so it will give a cake little to no red color. 

Raw vs Dutch Cocoa

Raw vs Dutch Cocoa

While the recipe I used is for a layer cake, I had my one-year-old son's birthday coming up, so I opted to make them as cupcakes and serve them at the party. The recipe transferred beautifully to cupcakes, and the cake was incredibly good. For…ahem…research purposes, I also made a batch of straight chocolate cupcakes. When placed next to each other, the red color is starkly noticeable. 

Red Velvet on left, chocolate cupcake on right

Red Velvet on left, chocolate cupcake on right

These red velvet cupcakes were tender and definitely had a velvety crumb. They also had a noticeably more chocolate flavor to them than a modern red velvet cake. While this cake contains 1 cup of cocoa powder, many modern red velvet cakes contain as little as 2 tablespoons of cocoa powder. That is more of a cocoa “blessing” than a cocoa flavor, in my opinion. The cocoa flavor is replaced by a truly exorbitant amount of red food dye. More on that in Part 2.

I topped my cupcakes with the recommended ermine frosting. I had never made it before, and it was absolutely delicious. It was lighter and less sweet than its American counterpart, more consistent with that of meringue buttercream. And while it is similarly labor and time-intensive to make, it is significantly less finicky, so I was able to do other things while making it. These cupcakes and frosting were a big hit, and I would definitely make them again.

Join us next time, for red velvet 1930-modern day featuring artificial coloring craze, racism in America, and corporate takeover. Red Velvet – Dye Harder

1927 Red Velvet Cake

A soft tender crumbed cake adapted from a 1927 recipe for “Red Devils Food.” This cake pairs well with an ermine frosting.

Servings: 24 cupcakes

Cook time: 10 min prep, 20-30 bake

Ingredients:

1 cup room temperature butter

2 cups of sugar

4 eggs

3 cups flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

1 cup buttermilk

1 cup boiling water

1 cup of cocoa

2 teaspoons baking soda

2 teaspoons vanilla

Instructions:

1.     Cream butter and sugar together.

2.     Add eggs.

3.     Mix flour, baking powder, and salt. (three times as per the incredibly specific recipe)

4.     Alternate adding the flour mixture and buttermilk to the creamed butter and sugar.

5.     Pour boiling water and cocoa together. Mix quickly.

6.     Add baking soda and mix until thick.

7.     Cool slightly, then add to cake.

8.     Mix thoroughly and add vanilla.

9.     Bake at 350 for 30 min as layer cake and 20 min for cup cakes.

Stay Puffed My Friends Part 3: America

The history

In the late 1800s, marshmallow root began being phased out of the recipe altogether and was completely replaced with gum arabic. The marshmallow root had a distinctive flavor that not everyone enjoyed; substituting the more neutral-flavored gum arabic for it led to a cleaner sweet taste (Eléments de Pharmacie théorique et pratique). Additionally, gum arabic produced a similar medicinal effect when it came to treating ailments like a sore throat or cough because it also had mucilage in it. Between the gum arabic and the starch mold mogul marshmallows were almost the perfect confection. There was just one problem: gum arabic was still an expensive product.

Initially, there were no viable alternatives to gum arabic. Gelatin was very popular in cooking due to its nutritional value, especially for the French during the Napoleonic wars (What’s Cooking America).   However, during this time, it was a very laborious process to extract gelatin, as it required a lot of boiling and waiting, not unlike the process of extracting the sap from marshmallow root. Gelatin also had a very distinct flavor profile, making it unsuitable for desserts at the time (What’s Cooking America).

This all began to change in 1845 when two different companies developed patents for powdered gelatin. The J and G Company in Edinburgh, Scotland, patented a pre-packaged, unflavored dried gelatin, while American Peter Cooper patented a ‘portable gelatin’ powder (What’s Cooking America). These ready-made—just add water—gelatins were not an initial hit. It took until the end of the century for people to begin using these gelatins and realize their value for desserts.

It wasn’t until 1894 when yet another refined gelatin product was on the market that things finally changed. Charles Knox, of what would become Knox Gelatin, developed refined flavorless gelatin that was produced in sheets (What's Cooking America). This resulted in a superior product, and the use of dessert gelatins began to take off.

In the late 19th century, the concept of “marshmallow” began to be associated with meringue, not the marshmallow plant. By this point, no marshmallow root was involved in the production of the marshmallow candy. Recipes for marshmallow cream, marshmallow frosting, and other such desserts began to show up in cookbooks by the late 1800s, such as this 1895 recipe for marshmallow cake:

Here we can see “marshmallow” is more a reference to the food’s fluffy white appearance and texture than a reference to the root of the marshmallow plant. These recipes are, at their base, meringues.

At this time, marshmallows were being made with less and less marshmallow root, especially in America. By the early 20th century, it was not uncommon to see marshmallows with no actual marshmallow in it at all. Once it was discovered that you could replace the distinctively (and, some would say, offensively flavored) marshmallow root with a flavorless alternative that was also less labor-intensive and expensive to produce, the marshmallow plant was completely pushed aside, and the sweet marshmallow-less confection began its climb into the heart of America.

Marshmallows were reportedly first mass-produced in America by Joseph B. Demerath, founder of the Rochester Marshmallow Company. The Rochester Marshmallow Company began in 1895, pre-dating the marshmallow craze of the 20th century. While it is impossible to say whether this factory was the root cause of the sweet's popularity, it was definitely a contributor. The factory's production, using the starch mogul method, allowed marshmallows to be mass-produced and distributed all over the region, making marshmallows cheaper, and more easily accessible (The Nibble). By the turn of the century, copycat companies were popping up, and marshmallows were being sold as penny candy all over the country. This was one of the first times the confection was being sold exclusively as candy, and not as a medicine.

Americans loved the softy, chewy confection.  And once the marshmallow began to gain popularity in the 20th century, their love, which some might deem excessive, began to show through. This was when things began to get weird. The marshmallow started to transform from a food in its own right to an ingredient in other foods, with some genuinely disgusting results, showing up in some distinct recipes that might give modern-day consumers pause.

In a 1913 edition of Table Talk, a cooking magazine, an article by Eva Alice Miller, appeared titled, "Marshmallow Mixtures." The article was about the incredibly versatile things you can do with marshmallows. These ranged from the sweet recipes that almost make sense—marshmallow on half shell (a pear dessert), marshmallow fruit salad, marshmallow almond whip, and the classic toasted marshmallow—to the truly repulsive marshmallow omelet, which as the name describes, is an egg-based sweet omelet (gross).

In 1924, Mary Chambers published Breakfasts, Luncheons and Dinners: How to Plan Them, How to Serve Them, How to Behave at Them—a Book for School and Home.  Within the text was a recipe for a shepherd’s pie with a marshmallow crust (even worse). While I have not eaten meat in nearly two decades, I just cannot imagine this was a pleasant combination.

The travesties of cooking didn’t end there. In 1927 with the rise in popularity of marshmallows, the California Lima Bean Council decided to hop on the “disgusting marshmallow recipe” boat. The Council ran ads featuring a dish of baked lima beans topped with bacon and marshmallow, with the promise that “you’ll like them even better served these tempting ways” (seriously, who thought this was a good idea). This was truly a troubled times time for marshmallows and cooking in America.

It wasn’t all bad, though. The same year a marshmallow cultural icon was born. The 1927 book, Tramping and Trailing with the Girl Scouts, featured the first recorded recipe for the “some more,” so named because it leaves the eater wanting some more. The classic recipe of graham crackers, chocolate, and a toasted marshmallow is still a staple in Scouting events, camping trips, and summer campfire gatherings.

The 1930s also saw the rise of another modern-day seasonal American favorite, the sweet potato casserole.

Marshmallow eventually graduated to the main course. Sweet potato with marshmallow topping still makes annual appearances on thanksgiving across the land. In a 1930s variant, the clever hostess would surround a marshmallow center with a mashed sweet potato patty, roll in crushed cereal flakes, and bake.
— Candy: A Century of Panic and Pleasure 149

While this sweet main dish claimed a spot on many American tables, today's version is usually more of a casserole-style. It typically includes cubed, or lightly smashed sweet potato, sometimes with the addition of cinnamon sugar, maple syrup, or nuts, and topped with marshmallows and baked until the marshmallows are soft and golden.

The next great marshmallow manufacturing innovation came in 1948 with the invention of the marshmallow extrusion process. In this process, marshmallow is forced through a tube in the desired form and cut into pieces. The individual treats are usually still coated in starch to allow them to set better and to decrease stickiness. This process allowed production to become even more efficient and is what gives contemporary cylindrical marshmallows their shape. This is the same process companies such as Jett-Puff still use today (Campfire Marshmallows), providing the inexpensive, sweet treat to people across the USA.

Some might define Americans’ obsession with marshmallows excessive. In fact, the 2014 edition of the Oxford Companion to Food does just that.

[marshmallow] is a versatile substance, which displayed its versatility to maximum (some would say excessive) extent in the USA in the 1930s to 1960s, when it occurred surprisingly often in recipe books, for example as an ingredient for salads, in fillings and toppings for cakes and desserts, and as toasted marshmallows, crisp outside and melting soft within.
— The Oxford Companion to Food 497

It is true that Americans’ obsession with the sweet treat is astounding. On average, Americans consume 90 million pounds of marshmallows each year (National Confectioners Association). The town of Ligonier, Indiana even hosts an annual festival entirely centered around marshmallows. The marshmallow is also a treat loved and consumed throughout history and across different parts of the globe. While the confection today is different from its predecessors, its sweet, sticky hold on people all over the world will never cease.

The Recreation

I had lofty aspirations for this recreation. I am vegetarian, and I had dreams of finding a simple, few ingredient recipes for vegan marshmallows, which I could share in triumph with the masses.

That is not what happened.

The modern marshmallow is noticeably different from its predecessors, both in look and texture.

Honey Marshmallow, Pate de Guimauve, Gelatin Marshmallow

Honey Marshmallow, Pate de Guimauve, Gelatin Marshmallow

While the honey marshmallow candy is dense with just a little chew, pâte de guimuave is noticeably lighter and fluffier. It does, however, retain a bit of its wetness. It pulls apart, and even when coated with powdered sugar, can still be sticky (were I to make it again, I would pipe them individually to allow a skin to form on each piece). It does not hold its form, and when cut can slump. All this in comparison with the modern, gelatin marshmallow-free marshmallow. They are fluffy, yes, but also firm. They squish but break when pulled apart.

I tried many techniques to achieve this. One was to use the pâte de guimuave ingredients but a modern marshmallow technique (pouring the hot sugar over the egg whites in a stand mixer.) I subbed out marshmallow extract, for powdered marshmallow root. It worked really well and took less time. But you end up with a pate de guimauve style marshmallow, not a modern one. And spending $13 on gum Arabic for each batch is cost-prohibitive.

I next played around with modern marshmallow recipes, subbing in Agar-Agar, to no avail. The agar-agar simply does not have enough hold.

I tried subbing in aquafaba for egg whites and doing a meringue-based marshmallow. Again, it kind of works, but you end up with a dense marshmallow and still need additional stabilizers.

Finally, I was forced to admit it. There is no easy vegan substitute for the marshmallow. Gelatin is the perfect binder. It is a stabilizer and a protein. It takes the place of the egg whites and the gum and does the job better. Unflavored gelatin is truly a marvel of modern food technology. And it is cost-effective. A pack with enough gelatin for two batches of marshmallow only cost two dollars.

That being said, working with gelatin, something that as a vegetarian I have literally never done before and doubt I will ever again, felt more like a science experiment than cooking. When you use gelatin powder, you have to "bloom" it. Soaking it in water to activate it. It takes only a few minutes, and the entire thing turns to a hard gelatinize mass. This is what gives you the base for your marshmallow. I found that when cooking it, I noticed a smell (my meat-eating husband did not). And the mixture before it cooled, seemed unnatural almost like a shaving foam. It was, however, straightforward to work with.

A basic marshmallow is very easy and only contains three ingredients:

  • Sugar

  • Water

  • Gelatin

A pinch of salt and vanilla extract helps round out the flavor as well but isn't strictly necessary.

Once you bloom your gelatin, you mix it and your water and sugar in a pan, bring the contents to a boil on medium heat and cook until your liquid reaches hard-ball stage or until when a spoon is dipped in, a long thread comes out. I thought this part would be more finicky than it actually was. Mine technically never reached hard-ball stage but turned just fine. And I saw many people who barely took theirs to soft-ball and also turned out okay. The forgiving nature of gelatin.

Pour the entire contents into a stand mixer and beat for about 10 min. Pour onto your surface, or into a pan. It will be stiff, so I put a little oil on my hands and patted it down to form a more even hunk.

That's it. That is modern marshmallows. Quick. Easy and relatively painless, though not vegetarian or vegan.

I did find a great recipe for vegan marshmallows, though.

Here is what you do. You go to Trader Joe’s. Go to the packaged goods section. You buy their marshmallows and use those instead. That’s it.

Are there recipes for vegan recipes online? Yeah. Of course. And some are good. But the number of ingredients you need just isn't worth it. Buy the Trader Joe’s ones.

Or make these all sugar gelatin filled marshmallows.

Leaning tower of marshmallow

Leaning tower of marshmallow

All sugar marshmallow

This is a simple, easy marshmallow recipe. You will get light, fluffy marshmallows each time.

Cook time: 20 min active, 3 hours cooling

Servings: 24-30 marshmallows

Ingredients

  • ½ cup water + 2 tablespoons Gelatin

  • ½ cup water

  • 2 cups of sugar

Optional:

  • Pinch salt

  • ½ teaspoon flavoring extract

And/or

  • 2 Tablespoons Cocoa powder

Instructions

1.     Prepare a marble slab or baking sheet by sprinkling it with powdered sugar or starch. If using a pan, coating with oil first helps to coat the sides with powder.

2.     Combine ½ cup water and gelatin in a small container.

3.     In a medium pot, mix sugar and, if using, cocoa powder. Pour in gelatin mixture.  Then add an additional ½ cup water. Bring mixture to a rolling boil over medium heat.

4.     Boil until the mixture reaches hard-ball stage.

5.      Once the mixture reaches hard-ball stage, pour contents into the stand mixer. Beat on low for 2-3 min, then turn up to high heat until mixture has at least doubled. About 10 min.

6.     Using a ruby spatula, transfer contents to starch covered surface or pan. If large peaks form and do not level out, put a little oil in your hand, and gently press down to create an even surface.

7.     Allow the marshmallow to set for at least 3 hours. Then cut and toss with additional starch or powdered sugar and save in airtight containers.