10 Bizarre Vintage Cakes Nobody Eats Anymore

Cake trends come and go like changing seasons. Just try to remember the last time you saw a galaxy cake at a dinner party or a geode-encrusted cake, two viral baking fads of the 2010s. It's been a while, hasn't it? Once the stars of every Pinterest board, these cakes have all but vanished from bakeries and birthday parties. No matter how timeless select birthday cake recipes may be, most of the styles and flavors that influence cake trends are constantly shifting.

Sometimes it's the preparation methods that age out. Think of the once-ubiquitous upside-down cakes or Jell-O poke cakes, both relics of mid-century kitchens. Other times, it's the ingredients that fall out of fashion. Crushed pineapple, maraschino cherries, and raisins all had their moment in the spotlight but have since faded into pantry obscurity. Go even further back in time, and you'll find that baking trends were born from wartime rationing and Depression-era thriftiness, cleverly made without eggs, flour, or milk.

Whether beloved or bizarre, these vintage cake recipes reflect how home cooks have always found creative ways to whip up delicious desserts using inventive techniques and whatever ingredients they had on hand. While these culinary creations might lose popularity in more prosperous times, they're a testament to the longevity of hand-me-down family recipes that are just too ingenious to forget.

If you were given a slice of spiced cake that was something along the lines of a carrot cake, you probably wouldn't guess that the main ingredient is condensed soup. But canned tomato soup cake was a very real and popular dessert throughout the 20th century.

The earliest known version of the recipe dates back to the late 1920s or early 1930s, appearing in an undated cookbook as a clever way to make a dessert during the Great Depression. The soup adds moisture and acidity to the batter, while the strong spices, like cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg, mask any savory undertones. By 1949, the New York Times had published a version of the cake, and in 1960, Campbell's printed the recipe on their soup labels.

Tomato soup cake reached peak popularity in the 1960s and '70s when mid-century cooks weren't afraid to get experimental. Not to mention, there was always the added fun of shocking guests with the reveal of the secret ingredient. Dozens of versions exist, altering the number of eggs, types of flour, and oven temperatures, but all have one thing in common: a can of condensed tomato soup. Cream cheese frosting is a common finishing touch, bringing sweetness and tanginess to balance the spices.

Depression cake, also known as "wacky cake" or "war cake," is wacky for a few reasons. It contains neither dairy nor eggs, and you mix it right in the baking pan. A moist and fluffy vegan chocolate cake made like this sounds like it would be a modern invention, but this recipe has been around for nearly a century.

In case you're wondering — no, the name doesn't mean you're supposed to eat it when you're feeling down. Depression cake gets its name from the Great Depression, a time when ingredients like milk, butter, and eggs were too expensive for many families. The recipe was also popular during both World Wars when dairy products were rationed. Some older versions even call for using leftover bacon grease instead of vegetable oil. For decades afterward, it was passed down through home economics classes, 4-H competitions, and family recipe boxes.

So how does it work? Instead of butter, vegetable oil keeps the cake moist. Baking soda and vinegar stand in for eggs, helping the batter rise into a surprising fluffiness. The one-pan method is simple and satisfying: First, you add the dry ingredients — flour, sugar, cocoa powder, baking soda, and salt — directly into a baking dish. Then you make small wells for the wet ingredients — vinegar, vanilla, and oil. Mix it all together, and it's ready to bake.

Considering that decreased egg prices haven't hit all grocery stores, this cake might be due for a revival soon. It's a recipe that has truly stood the test of time, created from the desire for a treat even in times of scarcity.

Few vintage desserts are as visually iconic as the pineapple upside-down cake. With its glistening rings of pineapple, bright red maraschino cherries, and a golden sugary glaze that seeps into the spongy layer below, it tastes just as bold as it looks.

The dessert rose to fame in the 1920s when canned pineapple became the "it" ingredient in home cooking. In earlier times, pineapple was an extravagant luxury; in the 17th century, a single fruit could cost thousands of dollars! But by the late 19th century, improvements in industrial canning brought it closer to the average household. In the 1900s, James Dole industrialized pineapple farming in Hawaii and transformed the fruit into a mass-market staple. He wasn't the first to sell canned pineapple, but Dole was by far the best at promoting it, and soon the U.S. was in the middle of a full-blown pineapple craze. In 1925, Dole held a recipe contest, and pineapple upside-down cake was the clear winner.

For a majority of the 20th century, pineapple upside-down cake was a go-to dessert for home bakers. The unconventional baking method is part of the appeal. Fruit and brown sugar are layered in the bottom of a pan, then topped with batter and baked in the oven. Afterward comes the dramatic flip, revealing the fruit topping caramelized to perfection. While pineapple was the standard, upside-down cakes could be made with nearly any fruit. And though it's largely fallen out of rotation today, its retro charm remains, especially if it reminds you of your grandma's kitchen.

If there's one thing to be said about Jell-O, it's that the company has always had a knack for staying relevant in American kitchens. After the Jell-O salad craze started to fizzle out in the mid-1970s, the company searched for new and innovative ways to keep their product on the table. In 1976, they launched a new marketing campaign promoting a Jell-O poke cake through print ads and recipe booklets, and it was surprisingly effective. By the late '70s and well into the '80s, poke cake had become a colorful, crowd-pleasing staple.

If you're young enough to have never encountered a poke cake, here's the gist of it: You start with a plain white cake prepared from a boxed mix. Once it's baked, you poke holes all over with a fork or chopstick. Next, you pour liquid Jell-O over the top, letting it seep into the holes and sit overnight in the fridge. The final touch is a layer of Cool Whip to complete the cake. The result is a vibrant, tie-dye-colored cake with the right balance of sponginess and fruity flavor.

Part of the poke cake's appeal was its simplicity. All you needed were three grocery store basics: cake mix, Jell-O mix, and whipped topping. It was cheap, foolproof, and endlessly customizable, depending on the type of Jell-O you picked. Poke cake eventually fell out of fashion, but its simplicity and eye-catching charm earned it a lasting place in family cookbooks for generations.

Mmm... nothing says "scrumptious chocolate dessert" like a generous scoop of mayonnaise. No, really, hear us out! Mayonnaise is basically just eggs and oil, two ingredients already found in most cake recipes. In a chocolate mayo cake, that star ingredient makes the texture even richer and softer than your standard chocolate cake.

The earliest known printed recipe for a chocolate mayo cake appeared in 1927 in a California newspaper, but many credit the cake's mainstream breakthrough to a 1937 booklet published by General Foods, the parent company of Hellmann's at the time. The recipe came from the wife of a General Foods sales executive. While Hellmann's didn't invent the cake, they certainly helped bring it to the masses.

Chocolate mayo cake doesn't require separate eggs or oil, which made it especially appealing during times of rationing or empty pantry shelves in the earlier half of the 20th century. And like many "secret ingredient" cakes, it has a certain daredevil appeal. Even James Beard acknowledged it in his book, "American Cookery," writing that chocolate mayonnaise cake has had "great popularity from time to time, mainly because it sounds daring."

In the wake of one of the most infamous political scandals in American history, an unlikely dessert rose to fame: Watergate cake. With its pastel green hue, nutty flavor, and fluffy pistachio frosting, this sheet cake became a popular fixture at potlucks and dinner parties throughout the 1970s. It shares a lot in common with its better-known cousin, Watergate salad, such as that both are minty green, made with pistachio pudding, and a bit nutty in more ways than one.

The cake is typically made with white cake mix, instant pistachio pudding, chopped walnuts or pecans, and lemon-lime soda, which gives it a light, spongy texture. The frosting is a mixture of whipped topping, more pistachio pudding, and crushed pineapple. No one would accuse this vibrant green showstopper of being subtle, but that's part of its charm.

As for the name? There's no confirmed origin, but many believe it was a cheeky nod to the Watergate scandal, which dominated headlines following President Nixon's resignation in 1974. The frosting was sometimes referred to as the "cover-up," and "because of all the nuts that are in it," it's supposedly like the White House.

Of all the surprising ingredients to show up in a cake, lemon-lime soda might not seem as wild as mayonnaise or tomato soup. After all, soda is already packed with sugar, so why not pour it into a dessert? The 7-Up cake is a citrusy, super-moist pound cake made famous by its fizzy namesake. While the exact origins of soda in cake mixes are unclear, this technique has long been popular in Southern cooking. The team behind 7-Up first helped bring this particular recipe for 7-Up cake into the spotlight by publishing it in a promotional booklet in 1953.

7-Up itself dates back to 1929 when it was launched in St. Louis under the name Bib-Label Lithiated Lemon-Lime Soda. Like many early sodas, 7-Up was marketed as having health benefits, since its original formula included lithium citrate, a mood stabilizer that's still used in medicine today. This ingredient was quietly dropped in the 1940s along with the overly long name.

For baking, 7-Up serves dual purposes. The carbonation acts as a leavening agent, while the lemon-lime flavor gives the cake a bright, citrusy twist. The classic version is baked in a Bundt pan and finished with a glaze made with a splash of soda. Though the original recipe has a nostalgic appeal, 7-Up still shares the recipe online today — a sign that maybe this old-school dessert hasn't entirely fizzled out of fashion.

Coca-Cola has been a Southern classic for over 130 years, so it's no surprise it eventually found its way onto the dessert table. Coca-Cola layer cake is a rich, fudgy chocolate cake that uses the iconic soda as both flavoring and a leavening agent.

The origins of this cake are surprisingly murky. While Coke was invented in Atlanta, Georgia in 1886 by pharmacist John Pemberton, no one can say exactly when someone first poured it into cake batter. The Coca-Cola Company has acknowledged the cake's devoted following, but it steers clear of claiming it as their own. A printed recipe for "Chocolate Cola Cake" appeared in the Charleston Gazette as early as 1952, and the dessert gained serious traction throughout the South during the 1960s.

The classic version calls for buttermilk, Coca-Cola, mini marshmallows, and chocolate frosting poured over the warm cake. It's intensely sweet (no surprise, given the ingredients), but that's exactly why people love it. Even Ina Garten called this delicious Coca-Cola cake "crazy good." Whether for nostalgia or pure indulgence, this treat still has a cult following today.

It might not have the most appetizing name, but Poor Man's boiled raisin cake has a rich backstory and a surprisingly good flavor to match. Popular throughout World War I, the Great Depression, and World War II, this humble cake was born out of necessity as staples like sugar, butter, eggs, and milk were either rationed or too expensive to buy. Poor Man's Cake provided a clever method for extracting sweetness from raisins to make a simple spiced cake.

There are quite a few variations to the recipe, but the method remains the same: You simmer raisins with water, sugar (if you had it), and spices like cinnamon and cloves until it makes a flavorful syrup. Then, you add flour, baking soda, and whatever fat you could find; back in the olden days, this often meant using drippings saved from cooking meat. The result is a moist, lightly sweet cake that's cheap, shelf-stable, and surprisingly nutritious.

Much like banana bread, boiled raisin cake was a thrifty favorite for many generations. Some versions are naturally vegan, and it can be made gluten-free with the right flour. While it's fallen out of style today, this resourceful dessert is a reminder of how innovative people can create something comforting and nourishing with just a few ingredients. 

Sometimes called "Don't Ask Cake," chocolate sauerkraut cake is part of the grand American tradition of tossing unexpected pantry items into dessert. While the combination of tangy pickled cabbage and rich chocolate might sound inharmonious, the cake is surprisingly moist and decadent thanks to this wildcard ingredient.

One of the most enduring origin stories of this invention comes from a 1962 article in the San Bernardino Sun, which credits a resourceful lunch lady with inventing the sauerkraut cake. Faced with a government-issued surplus of canned sauerkraut, the school cafeteria was tasked with using it up in student lunches. The solution was a double-tiered chocolate cake surreptitiously spiked with chopped kraut and topped with mocha icing. The result was reportedly a hit.

Though that story is memorable, the cake likely predates the 1960s. Long before commercial baking powder was available, home bakers often used acidic ingredients like vinegar to help leaven their cakes. In that context, sauerkraut isn't so much of a stretch. The sourness helps to complement the sweetness of the cake, while the saltiness makes the chocolate taste better, too. It might be a culinary oddity, but chocolate sauerkraut cake is also proof that good baking sometimes comes from bold improvisation.