I’ve never had much use for traditions. I was something of an iconoclast in my youth and thought that traditions were empty rituals, things done over-and-over for the sake of being done over-and-over. I frequently (and annoyingly, truth be told) bemoaned all traditions from the benign to the malignant.

Despite my best intentions, traditions have crept into my life over the years. Part of that is due to moving away from home; part of it to getting married and experiencing the fun of creating new rituals with my partner. But most of it was Iraq. I was volun-told for a four-month deployment, scheduled to depart in the spring. I was frantic that I would have to leave before Easter, not simply because I didn’t know what the holiday would be like on the base, but because I needed that last milestone, that last touch point with familiarity before I left for a place that was deeply unfamiliar. I found myself clinging to traditions in the days before I left, wanting to run my favorite routes, visit my favorite coffee shops, and make my favorite dishes one more time. When it came to Easter dinner, I took no chances at all, making my now-traditional chicken, leek, and mushroom pie and a carrot cake for dessert.

Several years older and a dubious amount wiser, I now see that it was only because my upbringing was secure that I could question tradition and see it as so unnecessary. Certainly, some of them are, but they’re also powerful. When they are thoughtful, traditions provide us with fixed points from which we can chart our course and our progress. They provide vantage points through which we can study other times, either happier or more difficult than the one we are abiding in. Traditions form anchors, the kind that steady us or the kind that keep us from moving forward. It’s up to us to decide.

Nowadays, no Easter feels complete without a towering carrot cake. For years, I used the same recipe, but this year I decided to push my own bounds by making not one but three different versions to taste test. Much to my surprise, the clear winner was not my traditional recipe, but it was the best carrot cake I’ve ever had. It’s a three-layer stunner redolent of spices, chock full of carrots and nuts, and crowned with the most glorious cream cheese frosting. Really, it encapsulates my new and old feelings on tradition awfully well—traditions do have their place, but there’s always room for improvement.

The Best Carrot Cake I’ve Ever Had

Sources: Adapted, barely, from Stella Parks’ Brave Tart

Makes one 6-by-5-inch cake, serving at least 6 people

Active time: ~2 hours; total time: ~3 hours

Note: This might be the best carrot cake I’ve ever had, but fair warning: it’s also the most labor intensive. I highly recommend making this over the course of several days. For example, prepare the custard for the frosting, chop and toast the nuts, grate the carrots, and brown the butter on day 1. Bake the cakes on day 2, and make the frosting and frost the cake on day 3. Make sure to leave time for the finished cake to set up before slicing it, or it will be difficult to cut.

One More Note: I call to make this in three 6-inch cake tins. If you don’t have this size pan, you could make a two-layer cake using 8-inch cake tins or a one-layer cake in a 9×13-inch baking dish.

Cream Cheese Frosting Ingredients:

• 3/4 cup milk, any percentage
• 1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar
• 2 1/2 tablespoons cornstarch
• 1 1/2 eggs (to get a half egg, crack one into a small bowl, whisk, and measure out roughly half)
• 1/2 tablespoon vanilla extract
• 8 ounces cream cheese (I used Neufchatel)
• 1 1/2 sticks butter, softened but still cool (I used salted butter)
• 1 tablespoon lemon juice
• Salt, to taste

Carrot Cake Ingredients:

• 1 3/4 cups walnuts or pecans (optional)
• 1 pound carrots
• 2 sticks butter (I used salted butter)
• 1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup whole-wheat flour
• 1 cup white sugar
• 1/2 cup gently packed brown sugar
• 1/2 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
• 2 teaspoons ground ginger
• 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 1/2 teaspoon ground coves
• 1/2 tablespoon vanilla
• 3 eggs (no need for them to be at room temperature)

Directions:

• Make the custard for the frosting: Put the milk in a small glass bowl or measuring cup and heat it in the microwave at 50% power until it’s warm, but not boiling. In a separate, medium-sized bowl, whisk together the sugar, cornstarch, and eggs.
• Pour about one-third of the warm milk into the egg mixture, whisking well, and repeating twice more. Scrap the custard into a medium pot and cook over medium heat, whisking constantly. The custard will change texture quite suddenly, going from fairly loose to thick and a bit lumpy. Keep whisking, and keep cooking the custard for another two minutes or so. At this point, it should be very thick and quite smooth.
• Remove the custard from the heat. After it’s had a chance to cool a bit, stir in the vanilla extract.
• At this point, you can cover the custard—pressing plastic wrap onto its surface so that it doesn’t form a skin—and refrigerate it for a few days.
• Prepare the nuts: Finely chop the nuts and then add them to a skillet set over medium heat. Toast the nuts until they’re golden brown and fragrant. This will likely take 5–10 minutes. Remove the nuts from the skillet and set them aside.
• Prepare the carrots: Wash, trim, and peel the carrots. Grate them with a box grater or in a food processor, then set them aside.
• Brown the butter: Place the butter in a medium saucepan over medium-low heat. Let the butter melt before increasing the heat to medium. Swirl the pan regularly or stir it with a spatula to ensure the butter browns evenly. Continue swirling or stirring until the butter is clear, golden yellow, studded with little brown bits, and smells toasty and delicious.
• Note: If the heat under your pan is too high, the butter might start to foam up, making it difficult to see what color it is. Reduce the heat or even take the pan off the stove for a few minutes to let the foam subside before proceeding.
• Make the cakes: Position a rack in the middle of your oven before preheating it to 350°F.
• Do your future self a favor by preparing your cake tins now. Grease them well, with either cooking spray or butter, and line the bottoms with parchment paper. Yes, you really should do this—after all, you’re spending quite a bit of time making the best carrot cake ever, is this really the time to skimp on preparation?
• Stir together the flours in a medium bowl, then set it aside.
• Stir together the sugars, leavening agents, salt, and spices in a large bowl; this can either be the bowl of your standing mixer or any large bowl you happen to have. Add the vanilla and eggs and beat the heck out of the mixture with whatever you’ve got—standing mixer, hand mixer, bulging biceps—on medium speed for five minutes (yes, really). The mixture should be light in color and fluffy yet thick. Use a spatula to scrape down the sides and bottom of the bowl.
• If you have a standing mixer that allows you to be hands free, add the butter in a slow stream, beating into the egg-and-sugar mixture on medium-low speed. If you aren’t using a stand mixer, add the butter in three additions, stirring to combine after each addition. Once you’re done, give the sides and bottom of the bowl another good scrape down.
• Go ahead and add the flours, mixing well to incorporate. Fold in the carrots and nuts. It’ll look like there’s too much of them, but trust me—they’ll all fit, and it will be delicious. You guessed it: give the bowl a final good scrape down.
• Pat yourself on the bake for having remembered to prep your pans and preheat your oven ahead of time. You’re awesome!
• Divide the batter evenly between your pans. If you have a kitchen scale, you can be precise about this, but otherwise just eyeball it. The cake will still taste just as good. Smooth the batter in each pan, then pop them all into the oven.
• Bake until the cakes are golden brown and a cake tester inserted into the middle of each cake comes out with just a few crumbs clinging to it. This was about 45 minutes for me, but I suggest checking your cakes around minute 40, to make sure they don’t overbake.
• When the cakes are done, remove them from the oven. Let them cool in the tins for a bit before turning them out onto a wire cooling rack, removing the parchment rounds from their bottoms, and turning them right-side up again. After they cool, you can frost them or wrap them well in plastic wrap and frost them the next day.
• Make the frosting: Several hours before you plan to make the frosting, take the custard, cream cheese, and butter out of your refrigerator and set them on the counter to soften.
• Once they’re softened but still cool, congratulate your past self for remembering to have taken out your ingredients ahead of time. If you forgot or are short on time, give the butter and cream cheese a few short blasts in the microwave on 40% power (do this separately, as they have different melting points) to soften them up. Still give yourself a pat on the back because hey, you’re baking the best carrot cake ever.
• Stir the vanilla custard well. If it’s very thick, mash it up with the back of a spoon and give it a good stir.
• Put the butter and cream cheese in a large bowl—again, either of your stand mixer or any large bowl. Cream them together using a stand mixer, hand mixer, or your own power until they’re light and fluffy—this should take about five minutes.
• Add about one-third of the custard to the butter-and-cream cheese mixture and beat well to combine. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and repeat with the remaining custard in two additions.
• Add the lemon juice and mix well. Give your frosting a taste. If it could use a little more pizzazz, add a bit of extra lemon juice and/or a touch of salt. Repeat tasting and flavor adjusting as needed.
• All together now: Your cakes likely domed a bit while baking, so set one on a level surface and use a serrated knife to carefully cut off the dome and create a flat top. Repeat with the remaining two cakes. Pick up one cake at a time and brush any stray crumbs from the sides or top; this will help ensure that your frosting is smooth and bump-free.
• Set one of the cakes on a plate or cake decorating turntable, then dollop on a good amount of frosting. Use an offset spatula or even a butter knife to work the frosting from the middle of the cake to the edges. Add the second cake layer. If you have time, you could let this sit in the refrigerator, to ensure your cake is straight and strong.
• Add a dollop of frosting to the second layer, and again work it from the middle of the cake to the edges. Add the third layer and repeat.
• At this point you have three options: leave the cake as-is for a “naked” look, add a small amount of frosting around the sides for “semi-naked,” as I have shown, or fully frost that sucker, because it’s spring and a pandemic and YOLO.
• If you’re going with either the semi-naked or fully dressed version, scoop up a tablespoon or so of frosting onto your spatula or knife. I prefer to start at the bottom of my cake and move up, so I spread the frosting on the seam between layers and turn the plate around slowly, working the frosting around the cake, adding more to my knife as I go. If you need detailed frosting instructions, I recommend this guide.
• Once the cake is frosted, set it to chill in the refrigerator for at least an hour. If it’s going to be several hours before you cut and eat the cake, consider draping it loosely with plastic wrap. When it’s chilled, cut with a serrated knife and enjoy.