I live just down the road from Fall River, Massachusetts, and New Bedford, Massachusetts, two thriving proud Portuguese communities. In middle school, my daughter had to take mandatory Portuguese language classes. We’ve got dozens of authentic Portuguese restaurants in the area, and even a well-stocked supermarket with its own bacalhau (salt cod) room: Portugalia Marketplace, in Fall River.
So when I first posted my recipe of Portuguese kale soup, I was told by many Portuguese friends that my soup wasn’t authentic so I couldn’t call it that. Fair enough. After all, my soup has far less carbs (no potatoes or pasta), fewer spices, and it uses homemade stock instead of water. It may not be Portuguese, but it’s full of flavor.
My semi-Portuguese kale soup.
4 cups home-made chicken or beef stock 4 cups water 1 cup lentils, rinsed in cold water 1 onion, finely chopped 1 carrot, finely chopped 2 stalks celery, finely chopped 1 clove garlic, through a press 1 lb. Portuguese chourico, peeled and chopped into small cubes 1 large bunch organic kale salt and pepper
Add the stock and water to a large pot. Heat until boiling. Add the lentils.
In a saucepan with a little olive oil or bacon fat, sauté the onions, carrots, celery, and garlic for a few minutes. Add the chopped chourico and sauté a few minutes more. Add the contents of the sauté pan to the pot.
Wash and de-stem the kale, tearing the leaves into smaller pieces. Add the leaves to the pot and stir. The stems go in your compost pile. (You can also use them in a juicer.) Kale is always on the “dirty dozen” list of vegetables with large amounts of pesticides, so I always buy organic.
Cook the soup until the lentils are al dente. Taste and season for salt and pepper before serving.
Simple and delicious, especially with fall on the way.
I recently rediscovered a story I wrote a couple of years ago, after my trip to New Zealand. I had hopes of getting it published somewhere, with no luck. So, what the heck…I’ll reprint it here, adding a few photos to help with the story.
A Guy Walks Into a (New Zealand) Bar…
I recently returned from a two-week trip to New Zealand, touring the northern half of the South Island, clocking over a thousand miles by car and train.
My journey started and ended in Nelson, the oldest city on the South Island. It was a great home base to explore the famous Abel Tasman National Park, ending each day with dinner and drinks.
One of my favorite stops was the Urban Eatery and Oyster Bar in Nelson, where fresh, creative seafood filled the menu. I walked in and noticed there were no seats at the bar, my spot of choice when I’m traveling solo. I had made a reservation, but I saw a bar stool in the corner and pulled it up to the bar, much to the surprise of the bartender and manager.
The manager explained that no one usually sits at the bar in New Zealand, opting for small tables, but it being obvious that I was an American, if I chose to do so, I was more than welcome to. I did get some interesting glances as I pulled my barstool up.
Bar view.
The bartender, a lovely young woman who perhaps wasn’t used to having someone to talk to in her workspace, asked me what I wanted to drink. I was craving for a vodka martini, very dry, expecting what I got at most American restaurants: 3 to 4 ounces of vodka, chilled, in a martini glass with olives. But instead, she hesitated.
She explained: “Here in New Zealand, if you order a ‘double,’ you get 30 mls.” (I quickly Googled it to find it was only 1 ounce.) “But, legally, I can pour an extra 30 mls into a shot glass that you can then pour into your glass yourself.”
Doing quick ounces-to-mls math in my head, I explained that a martini in the States can be almost 4 ounces, or 120 mls, and I could see her eyes widen in disbelief. “That’s irresponsible!” she gasped.
I laughed as I told her that two of those monstrous drinks were commonly referred to as a “businessman’s lunch” in the States, and she shook her head as she poured my first ounce in a rocks glass and then poured my side shot. (There were no martini glasses in sight.)
I poured my extra ounce into my glass and it still looked really low. “I’m guessing not too many people order martinis,” I said. “What do you usually fill the rest of the glass with?”
“Tonic, olive brine if it’s dirty, something like that.”
Ordering beer in New Zealand was simpler. It was served mostly in pints. Wine glasses, however, had a clearly marked line on each glass, a regulation set nationally. No “nice pours” the bartender would sometimes give you at the end of the bottle.
Clos Henri Vineyard, Marlborough
They allowed me to order as many drinks as I wanted, as long as I wasn’t inebriated, but it felt a little embarrassing to have to order so many drinks.
Down the street in Nelson, I visited Kismet, a very well-stocked cocktail bar, though their choice of vodka was small due to its limited popularity. The drink of choice is gin, and there are a good number of distilleries in New Zealand, many in Marlborough wine country, that produce delicious floral, herbaceous gins. My own experience with gin was limited to a whatever-and-tonic, but here…gin was something special.
Kismet in Nelson. Great bar!
I tried a couple of brands: Victor, with powerful floral notes that reminded me of Hendrick’s on steroids, and Roots, another Marlborough product. The Roots bottle was labeled “Navy strength,” registering at 54.5%, and I soon realized that if I ordered a “double-double,” as I came to call it, I’d get more alcohol in my drink with gin. I was sold.
(“Navy strength” refers to a time when gin was stored on Navy ships in wooden barrels next to the gun powder, and if there was an accidental gin spill, it had to have enough alcohol in it to still allow the gin-soaked gunpowder to ignite. Hence: “Navy strength.”)
A Roots double-double with just a splash of New Zealand’s own craft-made East Imperial tonic, and I was a happy man.
Wherever I went in New Zealand after that, my use of the phrase “double-double,” with a little smile, made the bartender understand I was here for the alcohol, and not for the filler. I couldn’t be more obviously American if I wore a red-white-and-blue bandana on my head.
A double-double of vodka (they all seem to serve only Finlandia, despite a couple of New Zealand brands I’ve had in the States) with olives at Bamboo Tiger in Blenheim. A double-double of bourbon in my Manhattan at Amazonita in Christchurch. A double-double of Mt. Gay with a splash of Coke at Oxley’s Bar & Kitchen in Picton. I got the hang of this!
Oxley’s Bar & Kitchen
Many wineries in New Zealand have wonderful restaurants, and sadly my attempt at humor by ordering a double-double of wine didn’t go over too well. But, I was able to enjoy more than one filled-to-the-line glass of Chardonnay at Black Estate Winery in Canterbury or Sauvignon Blanc at Saint Clair Family Estate Vineyard Kitchen in Marlborough.
Black Estate, outside of ChristchurchSaint Clair Family Estate Vineyard Kitchen, BlenheimGin tasting in Marlborough
Back on my homeward bound 17 1/2-hour non-stop from Auckland to JFK, I asked for a double-double of vodka on the rocks, and got it, along with a look from the flight attendant like I was some kind of lush. I wonder if her attitude would change when we crossed into US airspace…
What do you do when the hot weather kicks in and the cucumbers start taking over your garden? Make soup!
The original cucumber soup recipe comes from Ikies Traditional Houses, a wonderful hotel in the beautiful town of Oia in Santorini, Greece. After a long, hot day of exploring the island, we would settle down to a refreshing bowl of cucumber soup. They were nice enough to share the recipe with us, and a few tweaks later, it’s my definition of perfect.
3 English cucumbers or 5 regular cucumbers, peeled, seeded and roughly chopped
1 clove garlic, crushed
1 cup vegetable stock, preferably home-made
4 cups plain Greek yogurt
1/2 cup fresh mint leaves
Juice of 1 lemon
Sea salt and pepper
Peel, seed and chop the cucumbers and place them in a blender with the garlic, stock, 2 cups of the yogurt, mint leaves, lemon juice, 2 teaspoons of sea salt, and a grating of fresh black pepper.
Turn on the blender and mix well. Stop the blender and then add remaining 2 cups of yogurt and mix it by hand.
Pour the cucumber soup in bowls. Garnish with diced cucumber or radish.
To make the vegetable stock: rough-chop a few carrots, a few stalks of celery, and an onion, and put them in a pot with 4 cups of water. Boil until the liquid has reduced by half. Strain the veggies before using the stock. You can also roast the veggies on a sheet pan in a hot oven for a bit before adding them to the water for a more robust flavor.
Pork is magical. And though I’ve loved pork chops and store-bought bacon all my life, it’s only been in the last decade that I’ve learned to appreciate other cuts of pork and how they’re prepared. Guanciale is one of those meats, and it’s a key ingredient to a classic Italian dish: pasta carbonara.
In the beginning, I could only find huge jowls that required cutting and weighing to mix with the right amount of cure.
Looking at carbonara recipes online, many said the same thing: “Though a genuine carbonara uses a cured cut of pork called guanciale, it’s hard to find. So use pancetta or bacon.” Although both pancetta and bacon meats are delicious (both come from the belly of the pig…bacon is smoked, pancetta is not) the flavor and texture is not the same as a pork cheek, or jowl…and that’s what guanciale is made from.
Many years ago, my search for guanciale started with a local restaurant, the Back Eddy in Westport, Massachusetts. Being a buddy of the owner (and bribing him with alcohol), I asked if he’d order me some jowls. He did, and that worked well for a while. But I didn’t want to keep bothering him every time I wanted more, so I eventually found my own source on line that supplied me with massive jowls weighing many pounds each, as in the photo above. They were good, but a pain to work with. Eventually, that company went out of business.
I now shop for jowls online at http://www.heritagefoods.com. They sell a variety of pork products made from heritage breeds like Berkshire, also called kurobuta. It’s delicious with wonderful fat that’s healthy and full of flavor.
Berkshire pork jowls with fresh thyme from the garden and the dry cure mix.
My curing process is simple: sugar, salt, peppercorns, and fresh thyme. I cure the jowls for about 3 weeks. I rinse them once they’ve cured, and pat them dry. They still need to cook, but they’re ready to use for carbonara, ragu bolognese, topping a pizza, or any other delicious recipe that comes my way…and they freeze really well.
Once I made my first batch, there was no turning back!
2 lbs. raw pork jowls
1/2 cup basic dry cure mix (recipe below)
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
a handful of fresh thyme sprigs
Combine the basic dry cure mix, brown sugar, and peppercorns in a bowl. We’ll call this the rub.
On a large work surface, lay down several sheets of plastic wrap, overlapping each other to keep the rub from leaking through to the counter underneath. Sprinkle half of the rub onto the plastic wrap in an area where the jowls will lay. Scatter a half-dozen thyme sprigs on top of the rub. Lay the pieces of pork jowl on top of the rub and the thyme.
I place the rub and sprigs of thyme on a long sheet of plastic wrap.
The pork jowls go on top.
Then top the jowls with the rest of the rub, covering them evenly, and top with more thyme sprigs.
Press down on the jowls to really get the rub to stick.
Fold the plastic wrap over the jowls as tightly as you can, pressing the rub into the meat. If the wrap is loose, use more wrap to really tighten it up. Then place the entire pork-wrapped package in a container that will hold the liquid that will ooze out during the curing process.
Into a container with a lid and into the fridge.
Place the container in the fridge to cure for 3 weeks.
Every couple of days, flip the plastic wrap package over, so that the top is now the bottom. Then return it to the fridge. You want the rub to get at every part of the pork. Don’t pour off any liquid that forms…it gets kind of gooey, but it will help the curing process.
3 weeks later, it has transformed…
In about 3 weeks, the pork jowls will feel firmer. This is a sign they’ve been properly cured. Remove them from the plastic wrap, rinse them thoroughly under cold clean water, then pat them dry with paper towels.
They’re perfect…they just need a rinse.
Cured, rinsed and patted dry. Cut the guanciale into smaller pieces before freezing. A little goes a long way!
At this point, cut the guanciale into smaller pieces, wrapping each well and placing them in freezer bags. They will keep in the freezer for a long time.
Many guanciale recipes tell you to hang the meat in the fridge for at least a week after curing, but I haven’t really found the need to do that if I’m keeping them frozen. The drying process keeps the meat from getting moldy, but that’s only if you keep it at room temperature, which I don’t.
Always slice off a little to fry up a test batch! It’s all about quality control!
The Basic Dry Cure Mix
This basic dry cure mix is extremely simple, and you can cure many meats with it. But it does require a special ingredient: pink salt. This is not pink Himalayan salt. This is a very special curing salt that must be used in small amounts. (You can easily find it online.) It contains nitrites which will help preserve the meat and give it a good color. Many people get bent out of shape over nitrites these days, so you need to decide whether you want to use pink salt or not. I do, because I don’t eat pounds of guanciale like a lab rat. If you don’t use it, the meat will turn a bit gray–nothing wrong with it, just not an appealing color.
1 1/2 cups Diamond CrystalKosher Salt*
1/2 cup organic turbinado sugar
5 teaspoons pink curing salt
Combine these ingredients and mix well. Store the basic dry cure mix in a tightly sealed plastic bag in your pantry.
*An important note: the reason I give the brand name for the salt is because all Kosher salt does not weigh the same! A cup-and-a-half of MortonKosher Salt, for example, weighs more and will throw off the recipe.
I grill year-round. I’ll stand in 3 feet of snow to get smoked ribs just right, if I have to. Through years of tireless experimentation, I’ve come up with a barbecue sauce that I can be proud of. I prefer a slightly sweet and tangy barbecue sauce, and it works really well with pork or chicken.
What makes this sauce special is the citrus. I originally used lemon juice for this recipe and it was good. Lime juice was better. Adding lime zest: even better than that. I tried orange juice and zest, even Meyer lemon. But the Big Daddy of ’em all was grapefruit. I was craving my barbecue sauce one day and only had a grapefruit in the fridge. I thought: how bad could this be? Turned out to be the perfect foil to the sweetness of the brown sugar and ketchup.
Try this sauce on your next rack of ribs, batch of chicken wings, or even a whole bird. Cook the meat almost all the way through, brushing the sauce on for the last 20 minutes so that the sugars don’t burn. Then just try to stop eating it!
GRAPEFRUIT BARBECUE SAUCE
1 cup ketchup
1/2 cup firmly packed brown sugar
Juice and zest of 1 grapefruit
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 teaspoon granulated onion
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper sauce, like Frank’s Red Hot
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon granulated garlic
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
(no salt)
Combine all the ingredients in a sauce pan. Bring it to a boil and then simmer for about 20 minutes on low, until it’s slightly thickened.
It’s almost impossible to imagine that there would be any leftovers, but the last time I made a batch of boneless skinless barbecued chicken thighs with the sauce, we had a little bit left over. So we decided to make a barbecued chicken pizza with it the next day.
Fresh pizza dough, some of the barbecue sauce, a combination of sharp cheddar and mozzarella cheeses, and of course, the barbecued chicken thighs.
These pancakes are made from fresh ricotta cheese, whether homemade or store-bought. Light as air…and really delicious! I’ve made a few batches of fresh ricotta cheese in my day, but when my daughter has a craving for pancakes at the last minute, a good-quality store-bought ricotta cheese will do.
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour (I use Cup4Cup GF flour if I want to make these gluten-free)
1/4 cup yellow cornmeal
2 tablespoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
2 cups milk
2 large eggs, separated
1/2 cup fresh ricotta
In a large bowl, combine the flour, cornmeal, sugar, salt, baking powder and baking soda. In another large bowl, whisk together the milk, ricotta, and egg yolks. Fold the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients.
In a large stainless steel bowl, whisk the egg whites until they are stiff, but not dry. Fold gently into the batter.
Spray a non-stick griddle with a little cooking spray and drop about 1/4 cup of batter per pancake. Cook over medium heat for about 2 minutes per side, until golden and fluffy.
Sometimes, a cool adult beverage is just what you need after a long day of yard work. The cucumber plants in my garden have started producing, so it’s time to make this refreshing cocktail!
4 fresh cucumbers, peeled and seeded
Small ice cubes
1 cup loosely packed fresh mint leaves
2 teaspoons granulated organic cane sugar
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
4 oz. vodka (I like Tito’s or Ketel One)
1 oz. orange liqueur (I like Cointreau)
Peel and seed the cucumbers. Coarsely chop them and then purée them in a food processor until smooth. Strain them through a fine sieve, pressing the solids to extract as much liquid as possible. Or, if you have one, use a juicer. Set the extracted cucumber juice aside.
To a large glass pitcher, add the mint leaves, sugar and lime juice. Muddle the ingredients so that the mint leaves release their oils. Add 3/4 cup (at least) of the cucumber juice. Add the vodka and Cointreau. Muddle again briefly.
Fill tall drinking glasses with ice cubes. Strain the cocktail into the glasses. Garnish with a cucumber spear or peel…or mint.
If you grow your own cucumbers and mint in your garden, this cocktail tastes even better…a fine reward for a job well done!
It’s not often that my daughter spends extended time at my house, so when I asked her for a food shopping list, and she said she was craving applesauce, I went out and bought a few pounds of organic apples to make my own. Applesauce is so easy to make, I don’t know why people buy that over-sweetened over-processed stuff in the supermarket.
Apples are a heavily sprayed crop, so I always buy organic. (Sadly, that’s also why I never go to you-pick-’em orchards anymore. For those apples to look as pretty as they do, they’ve been sprayed with a ton of pesticides, which I prefer not to eat. You can’t wipe or even wash them off completely.)
My basic applesauce has only 4 ingredients. And if you don’t want any sweetener at all, it’s 3. Can’t be easier than that. The hardest part is getting the apples ready.
Apples, cinnamon, and water. That’s it.
I happened to have a bunch of organic Fuji apples this time, but use whatever apples you like. My Mom used to combine varieties. It’s up to you.
And if I choose to sweeten my applesauce, I use maple syrup instead of sugar.
2 lbs. organic apples, peeled, cored, and cubed 1/3 cup water 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon 1/4 cup (or more) maple syrup
I clean and peel the apples and chop them up into nice chunks, placing them in a pan with the water.
I turn the stovetop on high, and bring the apples and water to a boil. As the apples cook, they will release a lot of their own liquid, and you’ll have “apple soup” for a while before it finally reduces.
I add the cinnamon, and continue cooking the apples until have the consistency I like. (Some people like a more watery applesauce than others.) Depending on the apples, you might have to add water if all of it has evaporated, and the apples aren’t soft enough.
I pull the pot off the stove and mash most of the apples with a potato masher, then put it back on the stove to cook further. I leave some of the chunks whole, because I like a chunky applesauce. I always keep an eye on it, because I don’t want the natural sugars in the apples to burn.
When the apples are cooked to my desired softness, I take the pan off the heat and add the maple syrup.
Is there anything better than pure Vermont maple syrup? I don’t think so!
If it still looks too watery, I bring it back over the heat, but I watch it carefully.
I let the applesauce cool and enjoy! Keep it refrigerated.
I recently drove up to Maine to pick my daughter up from the Hardy Boat in New Harbor, a ferry that takes you to and from Monhegan Island, about 10 miles offshore. My daughter spent a week there with her mom, and we decided we’d take our time getting home, with a night in Portland and a night in Kennebunk.
Lunch was in Wiscassett, Maine, home of the famous and overrated and overpriced Red’s Eats, which always has a line down the street. We chose Water Street Kitchen and Bar for our lunch with my sister, who lives in the area, and it has a fun menu and great drinks. Lunch was simple: some oysters to start, followed by a beef burger for her and a salmon burger for me, but it was exactly what we were craving.
No food shots, but the drinks were wonderful!
Portland, Maine, is my favorite food town in New England, beating out my close-to-home Providence and even Boston. What makes Portland better is the walkability of the town. If your hotel is in town, once you park your car, you’re done. You can pretty much walk anywhere for food and drinks, and there are so many great small, eclectic restaurants to choose from. (We stayed at the Residence Inn, because I try to use my Marriott Bonvoy points, and we want to be near Commercial Street, on the water. But over the years, we’ve stayed at the Hampton Inn, Hilton Garden Inn, Holiday Inn, Westin, and Courtyard byMarriott. For us, it’s all about not having to drink and drive.)
For whatever reason, the choice of Asian restaurants in Portland is incredible. Some of our favorites over the years have been Crispy Gai, The Honey Paw, Boda, Miyake, and Jin Yan Tavern. We decided to try a newer one, Lucky Cheetah, serving dim sum and and other plates meant to be shared. We were not disappointed!
What a cool space! This is definitely a great date night out kind of place.
A beautiful bar, really cool decor, great food, and awesome cocktails.
I recently read an article about fat-washed vodka, where sesame oil is thoroughly mixed with vodka, then frozen. The oil hardens into a disc that is removed, but the tiniest droplets of the oil remain, infusing the vodka. They had it at Lucky Cheetah, and they served it with caviar-stuffed olives on the side.
It was weird, wild, intense, and strangely delicious.
Caviar stuffed olives.
Our dinner was a lot of fun, too.
Iberico pork soup dumplings, lobster dumplings with scallion sabayon and caviar.A refreshing plate of sichuan cucumbers.Mushroom and truffle dumplings.Fantastic broccolini and chicken cracklins.Sesame beef bao.
We chose not to have dessert at Lucky Cheetah, and instead decided to walk around town a bit. We landed at my favorite Italian restaurant in Portland: Solo. It was well past the dinner rush, so we found a couple of seats at the bar and ordered dessert.
My daughter ordered a semifreddo.My dessert came in liquid form: the well-made house negroni.
Breakfast the next day was at Ocotillo, a cute place on the west side of Portland that serves Mexican-style brunch food. (The name means “little torch” in Spanish, referring to the bright red flower clusters that bloom at the tips of the ocotillo plant every spring.)
What great food and fun atmosphere!
I bet this place jams in the evening as well!
Breakfast was awesome, starting with a great cup of coffee!
Cowboy curds and gravy. Basically a breakfast poutine. It comes with a poached egg, which my daughter didn’t want, so……the extra egg made it to my incredible plate of smoke haddock benedict!When I saw they smoke their own brisket, I had to have a side plate of it! Really good!Oh, and something healthy.
We arrived in Kennebunk too early to check into our hotel, so we walked around town, the very busy and touristy Dock Square, where you cross into Kennebunkport.
Since we had that amazing breakfast, lunch was a quick but very tasty bite at KPORT Provisions, where we shared a ham and cheese sandwich on freshly baked bread, and a lobster roll. (We are in Maine, after all.)
My best friend, Lee, has a home in Kennebunk, so we met him and his family for dinner at Pedro’s, a most excellent Mexican restaurant, serving up great food and very tasty watermelon margaritas!
After dinner, cocktails at the Hurricane were recommended, an old-school restaurant that has been in Kennebunkport for over 30 years.
Our bartender was very sweet, and gave me a generous pour of Weller’s, my favorite bourbon!
The next morning, we opted for the continental breakfast at our hotel, because we knew we wanted to hit the road to get home to Rhode Island. (We stayed at the King’s Port Inn. Literally steps from Dock Square, so we walked everywhere. Clean rooms, great water pressure! What more do you need?)
We decided we were still craving Asian food, so for lunch, we made a stop in Portsmouth, NH (another great town you should explore) and enjoyed the food at Domo.
The sushi was fresh and delicious, but I didn’t realize just how huge the maki rolls were! I ate way more than I should have!
Domo’s Triple Three Roll and Sexy Girl Roll.Beef Yaki Udon.
A great food adventure!
But I think it goes without saying that yet another diet is in order!
I’m pretty good at keeping the zucchinis in my garden harvested on a regular basis, so they don’t get too big. But once in a while, I miss one, and it gets to be huge. That’s when it’s time to make zucchini bread.
I was recently told that zucchinis are green…summer squash is yellow. I use the word “zucchini” interchangeably, but technically, the variety I grow is, in fact, a zucchini and a squash!
Whatever you call it, use it! And make some delicious bread!
If the zucchini is really large, I slice it lengthwise, and remove the center section with all the seeds, because I don’t want that in my bread. But the smaller ones don’t have that problem. Then I grate the rest on a box grater. This recipe needs about 2 1/2 cups of grated zucchini, which is about 16 ounces.
When it comes to baking, I use my small kitchen scale to make most of the crucial measurements, because accuracy counts. It’s much more accurate than going by volume. But this recipe has both measurements, so you can try either method.
Substituting gluten-free flour for the basic all-purpose flour, will make this recipe gluten-free. I like to use the all-purpose GF flour by Cup4Cup.
And I like using olive oil as my vegetable oil, because I love the flavor and its health benefits. But feel free to use whatever vegetable oil you like.
2 cups all-purpose flour 1 teaspoon baking soda 1 teaspoon baking powder 1 teaspoon Kosher salt 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon (optional)
1 cup light brown sugar 1/2 cup white cane sugar 3/4 cup vegetable oil 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 2 eggs, lightly beaten
2 1/2 cups (16 oz.) grated zucchini
Preheat the oven to 350°.
Grease an 8 x 8“ or 5″ x 10″ loaf pan with some of the vegetable oil. Then line it with parchment paper…it makes it easier to remove later.
In a bowl, mix together the first five ingredients.
In a separate bowl, combine the remaining ingredients except the zucchini.
Add the grated zucchini to the bowl with the flour mixture and toss it around to coat.
Add the dry mixture to the wet mixture and stir until it’s combined.
Pour it into the pan.
Bake until a toothpick comes out clean, about 45 to 60 minutes…but it could be even longer. Every oven is different, and different zucchini can have different moisture levels, so you may need to cook yours longer, depending on your situation. Even with all the high-tech thermometers I have, I find the good old-fashioned toothpick method still works best.
Remove the baking pan from the oven and let it cool for 15 minutes. Then turn it over on a wire rack, removing the pan, and let the zucchini bread cool completely to room temperature before slicing.
This bread is so good, I just might let the zucchini overgrow more often!
I recently cooked another batch of zucchini bread in a round pan. Worked great! And I experimented with substitutions: I replaced 1/2 cup of the all-purpose flour with corn meal to give it a more rustic taste. And I replaced the 1/2 cup white cane sugar with 1/4 cup of maple syrup. Delicious!