Brown Butter Carrot Cake at Lake Como

The Winding Road to Paradise

As we wound our way along the narrow road hugging the mountainside above Lake Como, I glanced over at the cherub with wispy auburn hair and a button nose, fast asleep in her car seat after a day of strolling through the charming streets of Bellagio, Italy.

We passed small hamlets that looked as if they could only be reached by boat, since there was no place to pull off the road or park in sight. Extraordinary villas dotted the cliffs above and below us, beauties I longed to stop and admire up close.

My son maneuvered the car with hair-raising precision through the twists and turns of this slice of heaven that can barely fit two passing vehicles. As you may have heard, Italian drivers take daring to a whole new level.

My granddaughter, blissfully asleep, and her mother, also dozing, were spared most of the breath-holding moments as we squeezed between stone walls and a cliff’s edge, narrowly clearing a car that appeared a split second before. It’s the daily dance of Italian roads, and somehow, we all survived.

Celebrating Three Generations

I envied the two sleeping, one from the joy and exhaustion of motherhood and the other lulled into afternoon slumber by the swaying car after a day of new adventures. I sat there, filled with mixed emotions —mostly gratitude and wonder — for this smart, funny, enchanting little being who arrived a year ago and changed our lives forever.

The day before, we had celebrated three generations of birthdays—my granddaughter’s first, my son’s, and mine. All of us, born decades apart, share the same birth date.

A Villa Above the Clouds

We celebrated in a rented villa perched so high above Lake Como that there was a funicular to reach it. It felt like a place straight out of a fairy tale, with sunsets painted in watercolor hues so astonishing they were hard to believe. They say Mussolini once slept here, though I was happy not to run into that ghost.

My son requested carrot cake for his birthday, something rare, if not impossible, to find in Europe. His last encounter with one had not been good. As he put it, “it just tasted like carrots in the shape of a cake.”

Determined to redeem the experience, I decided to bake it myself. I developed and tested the recipe for my Brown Butter Carrot Cake at home in Portugal, then measured and packed all the dry ingredients into a small bag, my own DIY cake mix, ready for Italy.

Baking a Brown Butter Carrot Cake, Boiling Pasta, and the Perfect Meal

As soon as we arrived at the villa, I began baking my Brown Butter Carrot Cake. My daughter-in-law’s mother, who lives nearby, prepared a delicious bowl of pasta with pesto and a generous dusting of Parmigiano Reggiano.

We sat around a small kitchen table, plates piled high, gazing out at Lake Como and the Dolomites shimmering through tall, century-old leaded glass windows. I thought about how the perfect meal has very little to do with the food itself. It’s about being present for one another — to listen, to share, to witness life as others live it. Even speaking different languages, with all its limits, becomes an insignificant barrier when warmth and laughter fill the space. There’s a richness in that exchange, a mingling of perspectives and stories that deepens our understanding of what it means to be alive. That, I thought, is where the true gems of living lie.

A Feast for Family and Friends

The next morning, after coffee and a simple breakfast, we began preparing a meal in earnest. Together, my daughter-in-law, her sister, her mother, and I made smoked salmon crostini, caprese platters of tomatoes and mozzarella, a radicchio and field greens salad with pears and pomegranates, and generous charcuterie boards layered with cheeses, dried meats, figs, dates, and nuts.

My son made sure our heritage was represented, making a platter of cheese quesadillas, guacamole, and chips—because in our family, there’s no party without a little Mexican food.

Let There Be Cake

Twenty or so of us gathered to celebrate, speaking a mix of Italian, Romanian, and English. Children giggled and occasionally cried, a small dog barked, and the house filled with laughter and conversation.

When the time came for cake, my son and I shared one, the rich Brown Butter Carrot Cake I had made the night before, with a candle for each of us. My granddaughter had her own small Winnie-the-Pooh cake with a single candle to blow out.

The Brown Butter Carrot Cake turned out beautifully: moist and tender, with browned butter in both the cake and the cream cheese frosting, and just enough cinnamon and spice to feel warm and cozy without overpowering.

When the party was over, I felt a quiet joy settle in. It was a perfect birthday, the kind that doesn’t come from grandeur or perfection but from the meaningful abundance of life.

A Rustic and Easy-to-Make Cake

Because this cake is baked in a sheet pan and cooks quickly, there’s no need to fret over whether it will turn out perfectly. It’s wonderfully forgiving. I keep the frosting simple, too — spreading a thick layer over the first half of the cake, gently pushing it toward the edges in soft scallops so that, when the second layer is placed on top, a bit of frosting peeks out in an imperfect, rustic way. I finish the top just as casually, using the back of a spoon to swirl the frosting without taking it all the way to the edge. A handful of candied walnuts and a few sprigs of thyme add the final touch, making it as beautiful as it is unfussy.

The cake can be cut into 14–16 small servings. It’s very rich, so this amount is usually just right.

Please read the notes section of the recipe before you begin.

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