Last night, when Sparks and I had finished our feast of rockfish and chanterelles, we barely had the stamina for dessert. Sparks confined himself to coconut gelato, but I doughtily ate my dessert as planned, with figs. I then decided that I was probably finished eating for the rest of my life.
That resolve broke around 9:30 this morning, but it was good while it lasted. Which leads to the question: what to do with the rest of the roasted figs, in which Sparks showed no interest? The gelato was gone. I had a lot of zucchini, though. The figs (which I keep mis-typing “fogs”) were roasted with honey and cinnamon. Zucchini bread has cinnamon, so it must go, right? Right!
Stop. Admire that photo for a moment. Martha Stewart would be proud.
My zucchini bread recipe comes from my mother, who got it from my aunt. It’s easy to find a good banana bread recipe, but for whatever reason, every other zucchini bread recipe I’ve tried has been disgusting: too greasy, too sweet, and too pale are my usual complaints. This zucchini bread is dark because it has a lot of cinnamon and a lot of vanilla, and if you added even more than it calls for, you wouldn’t go wrong. It’s a moist cake bread, but it won’t leave grease spots on a napkin, and is just not-sweet enough that the leftover syrup from the figs was good when sopped up with it.
So here it is.
Preheat oven to 350F.
Beat 3 eggs, 1 cup oil, and 2 c granulated sugar. Stir in two cups of grated zucchini and 1 T vanilla extract. Now mix together 3 1/2 c AP flour, 1 t salt, 1/4 t baking powder, 1 t baking soda, 4 t cinnamon, and 1 c nuts of your choice (which choice can be no nuts, if you’re me). Stir into the wet ingredients.
Pour into two prepared loaf pans or, as I did here, one 9×13 cake pan. A word about pan preparation: I am a person who gets away with things whenever I can, but long experience has taught me that there is no getting away without pan preparation, here. Grease the pan, then put wax paper in it, then grease the wax paper. You’ll thank me later.
Bake for 45 minutes, or until a fork comes out clean. Enjoy! If you’re me, you’ll spoil your dinner with this (and a dab of Noosa honey yogurt alongside), then decide you didn’t spoil dinner because that was dinner. You’ll also drip fig syrup on your white sweater. It will be worth it.