You know those recipes that aren’t showy or complicated, but people always ask for the recipe after one bite? This is one of those.
I first made this lemon butter cake on a random Tuesday when the weather couldn’t decide if it was spring or still dragging its winter boots around. I had a couple of lemons on the edge of “use me now” territory, and a box of cake mix that had been loitering in the pantry for… let’s just say, a while. What came out of the oven was this buttery, tangy, creamy thing that somehow tasted like sunshine and comfort at the same time.
I didn’t expect it to become a family favorite. But now it’s the one I bring when someone’s sick, celebrating, heartbroken, or just craving something sweet with their cup of tea. It travels well, slices up beautifully, and always disappears faster than you think.
Why You’ll Love This Little Slice of Sunshine
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Bright and buttery — Like a lemon bar and a cheesecake had a baby.
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Easy ingredients — Most of ‘em are pantry staples or fridge regulars.
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Crowd-approved — People will ask, “what’s in this?!” in the best way.
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Works ahead — It actually tastes better the next day. I don’t know the science. Just trust me.
Ingredients (with real-life commentary)
For the crusty, buttery base:
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1 box yellow cake mix
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1 stick unsalted butter, melted
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1 large egg
For the dreamy lemon layer:
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8 oz cream cheese, softened
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2 cups powdered sugar
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2 large eggs
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Zest of 2 lemons (don’t skip this!)
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Juice of 1 lemon (optional if you like a little more tartness)
How to Make It (just like I do in my kitchen)
1. Preheat your oven to 350°F.
Grease a 9×13″ pan — butter, spray, parchment, whatever you like. Just don’t skip it or you’ll be scraping cake out with a spoon later.
2. Mix the base.
Dump the cake mix, melted butter, and 1 egg into a bowl. Stir until it comes together. It’ll be thick—like play-dough, but yummier. Press it evenly into the pan. Use your hands. It’s fine. You’re baking, not performing surgery.
3. Make the top layer.
In a separate bowl, beat the cream cheese until it’s nice and smooth. Add in the powdered sugar slowly or risk a sugar explosion cloud. Then crack in the eggs, add that glorious lemon zest (it smells so good right now, doesn’t it?), and the juice if you’re using it.
4. Pour and smooth.
Spread that lemony cream cheese mixture over the base. It’ll feel a little luxurious. Like, you’ll want to stick your finger in it. (Again: I won’t judge.)
5. Bake.
Pop it in the oven for 38–40 minutes. You’re looking for slightly golden edges and just a barely set center. A little jiggle is okay! It’ll firm up as it cools.
6. Cool completely.
This part takes patience. Let it cool on the counter, then chill it if you want cleaner slices. Warm cake is a gooey mess (still delicious, but less Instagram-worthy).
7. Dust with powdered sugar, if you’re feeling fancy.
Totally optional, but it makes it look like it came from a bakery instead of your slightly chaotic kitchen.
Want to Tweak It? Here’s How
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Add berries: A handful of blueberries or raspberries on top before baking adds a pop of color and flavor.
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Lime it up: Swap lemon zest for lime for a tropical twist.
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Make it gluten-free: Use a GF yellow cake mix. Easy-peasy.
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No lemons? Try orange zest and juice — it turns into a creamsicle dream.
Storing & Snacking Tips
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Fridge is best: Keep leftovers in an airtight container in the fridge. It’s actually better cold — like cheesecake’s fun cousin.
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Lasts about 3–4 days, but rarely makes it that long.
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Freezes well, too. Wrap individual slices in parchment and tuck ‘em into a zip-top bag for those days when only cake will do.
Let’s Wrap This Up, Friend
I didn’t expect this cake to become the one. But here we are—dozens of batches later, and I still light up when it’s in the oven. It’s humble, sure. But it tastes like home, like brightness in the middle of a cloudy week, like the kind of treat that makes people linger a little longer at the table.
If you make it, let me know! Send me a picture, tell me if you added berries, or if your kid licked the bowl clean. This isn’t just a recipe—it’s a little thread connecting kitchens and stories. And that, to me, is what baking’s really about.
