I didn’t plan to love this cake as much as I do. Honestly. I thought it would be one of those “restaurant famous” desserts that’s good, sure, but maybe a little overhyped? You know, the kind people talk about because everyone else talks about it.

And then I tasted it.

The Mastro’s Butter Cake doesn’t shout. It doesn’t come in dressed up with frosting swirls or fancy layers. It just shows up warm, rich, slightly golden on the edges, and somehow manages to feel comforting and indulgent at the same time. Which sounds dramatic for cake, I know. But also… not wrong.

A Little Backstory (Because Recipes Don’t Exist in a Vacuum)

The first time I had Mastro’s Butter Cake, I was already full. Like, loosen-the-jeans full. Someone at the table ordered it “for the table,” which is always a lie because we all know everyone secretly wants their own bite.

One bite turned into two. Two turned into, “Okay, who’s actually finishing this?”
And suddenly I was doing mental math about whether recreating it at home would be a good idea or a dangerous one.

Spoiler: it was both.

Making this copycat Mastro’s Butter Cake at home brings back that same feeling — the quiet table, the pause between bites, the moment where no one talks because they’re too busy chewing. That’s the kind of dessert this is. Familiar. A little nostalgic. Almost emotional in a way you don’t expect from something made mostly of butter.

Why This Cake Feels Different (Even If You Can’t Explain It)

I’ve baked a lot of cakes. Light cakes. Dense cakes. Cakes with too many steps and cakes that promise “one bowl” and then lie. This one sits in a strange, wonderful middle space.

The Mastro’s Butter Cake recipe is rich but not greasy. Dense, but not heavy in that regretful way. The edges bake up just firm enough, while the center stays soft — almost creamy — like it’s deciding whether it wants to be cake or cheesecake and refuses to choose.

And maybe this is just me, but it feels like the kind of dessert you make when you want people to feel taken care of. No flash. No trends. Just something warm, solid, and good.

Ingredient Notes (Nothing Fancy, Just Honest)

This cake doesn’t hide behind toppings, so every ingredient pulls its weight.

• Butter
  A lot of it. I won’t apologize. This is a butter cake, not a suggestion of butter. Let it soften fully. Cold butter will fight you, and honestly, who has the energy for that?
• Sugar
  Sweet, yes — but it also helps create that lightly crisp exterior. It’s doing more than you think.
• Eggs
  These add structure, richness, and that smooth interior texture. Add them one at a time. Rushing here always shows later.
• Cream Cheese
  This is the quiet magic. It doesn’t scream “cheesecake,” but it gives the cake that subtle tang and creamy mouthfeel. Softened cream cheese is non-negotiable unless you enjoy weird lumps. (I do not.)
• Flour
  Just enough to hold everything together. Don’t overmix it. Ever.

Let’s Talk About Making It (No Stress, Promise)

This isn’t a complicated cake. It just wants your attention for a minute.

Step 1. Start Slow

Preheat your oven to 325°F. Low heat matters here — this cake doesn’t like to be rushed. Cream the butter and sugar until it’s pale and fluffy. Not “kind of mixed.” Fluffy. This step sets the tone.

Step 2: Eggs, One by One

Add the eggs slowly, mixing after each one. The batter might look slightly weird at some point. Don’t panic. It always comes back together.

Step 3: Cream Cheese Moment

Add the softened cream cheese and beat until smooth. Scrape the bowl. Then scrape it again. You’d be surprised what hides on the bottom.

Step 4: Flour, Gently

Add the flour and mix just until combined. Stop as soon as it comes together. Overmixing here changes everything — and not in a good way.

Step 5: Bake and Wait (This Is the Hard Part)

Pour the batter into a greased, small round bundt pan. Smooth the top. Bake for about 1½ hours. Yes, it’s a long bake. No, it’s not a typo. Let it cool before removing from the pan — this cake likes to settle into itself.

Storage (In Case You Have Self-Control)

• Room temperature: Wrapped well, up to 2 days
• Refrigerator: Up to 5 days (bring to room temp before serving — cold butter cake is just sad)
• Freezer: Slices freeze beautifully for up to 2 months

Variations (If You Feel Like Experimenting)

I don’t think this cake needs changing, but sometimes curiosity wins.

• Add a splash of vanilla
• A little citrus zest if you want brightness
• Bake mini versions for gifts (dangerous, but effective)
• A good 1:1 gluten-free flour blend works surprisingly well, though the texture softens slightly

What I Like to Serve With It

The cake is rich, so simple pairings work best.

• Fresh berries
• Light whipped cream
• Vanilla ice cream (or salted caramel, if you’re feeling reckless)
• Coffee. Always coffee.

FAQ:

Is this just a pound cake?
Not really. The cream cheese changes the texture completely.

Why such a low oven temperature?
Because slow baking gives you that signature soft center without drying it out.

Is it better the next day?
Honestly… yes. Slightly. And that feels like a secret I shouldn’t admit, but here we are.

One Last Thing

This Mastro’s Butter Cake isn’t trendy. It won’t go viral because it doesn’t photograph like a circus act. But it’s the kind of cake people remember. The kind they ask about later. The kind that quietly disappears slice by slice while everyone pretends they’ve only had one piece.

If you make it, I really want to know —
Did you eat it warm?
Did you sneak a second slice?
Did it remind you of something?

Tell me. That’s the best part.