One of my main motivations for writing this blog is to document my well-worn, favorite recipes. Like curling up with your favorite pillow or slipping on your coziest sweater, favorites offer expected satisfaction that can often be more rewarding than bold and flashy newness. Every cook must have a mental folder of recipes/dishes they can whisk up in no time, guaranteed crowd pleasers.
I am ambitious and often overly-exhaustive when it comes to exploring options. I am wooed by the horizon of possibility and often overlook avoidable complexities. My attitude that anything is possible if you just go for it sometimes marches right over the beauty of simplicity. This tendency influences my life decisions, and what I choose to cook. The spark of experimentation is essential to any cook, but an appreciation for simplicity and the familiar is foundational.
In the post-graduation period, there is a pressure to cast your net wide. To explore, to adventure, to open as many doors as possible in the job search. But this tendency can also lead to a loss of purpose; it can introduce too many outside factors that easily influence you during a very formative, directionless and transitional stage. In exploring endless possibilities, one may loose touch with the core self. I know I am particularly vulnerable to this tendency and want to remain grounded with an end-goal in mind during these next few months. My next classic recipe, and how I came to bake it this weekend, illustrates this tendency perfectly.
This father’s day (Sunday, June 19th) I planned to make a beer cake for Dad. I have always been intrigued with baking with beer. My uncle Steve makes a dense beer loaf crusted with cornmeal, sunflower and poppy seeds. To be honest, I’ve never really liked it. Even lathered in butter, a big bite leaves a sharp pilsner-ish taste. Regardless, Dad likes beer, and I like exploring new recipes, so I put a six- pack of Guinness on the grocery list for my beer cake.
The day before, Dad went to Bloom Grade and harvested a basketful of our summer squash, onions, beets, and garlic. That morning, four bulbous zucchinis lay nested on the kitchen counter like over-saturated walruses (my ambitious Dad goes for the big daddies, rather than the more petite version.) He also calls these sun-soaked beasts zukes (rhymes with nukes), a nickname that emphasizes the overblown heftiness of these vegetable patch kings. Whenever there is a surplus of zukes, my Dad asks for Zucchini bread.
101 cookbooks has an excellent zucchini bread recipe. My favorite part: poppyseeds. An unexpected dainty crunch in each bite. Heidi Swanson also adds handfuls of other great mix-ins: toasted pecans, crystallized ginger, cinnamon, curry. While classics are essential, there is no reason to prohibit experimentation and add-ins. Knowing your classics often allows for moments of bravery that put a great new twist on a basic recipe.
Zuccini Bread (101cookbooks.com)
1 1/2 cups chopped walnuts, plus a few to sprinkle on top (I like toasted pecans)
1/3 cup poppy seeds (optional.. for me a must!)
zest of two lemons (optional)
1/2 cup crystallized ginger, finely chopped (optional…I tend to leave this out)
1/2 cup unsalted butter
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar, lightly packed
3 large eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
3 cups grated zucchini (about 3 medium), skins on, squeeze some of the moisture out and then fluff it up again before using
3 cups whole wheat pastry flour (or all-purpose flour)
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 tablespoon curry powder (optional)
Special equipment: two 1 pound loaf pans (5 x 9 inches)
Preheat your oven to 350°F. Butter the two loaf pans, dust them with a bit of flour and set aside. Alternately, you can line the pans with a sheet of parchment. If you leave a couple inches hanging over the pan, it makes for easy removal after baking. Just grab the parchment "handles" and lift the zucchini bread right out.
In a small bowl combine the walnuts, poppy seeds, lemon zest, and ginger. Set aside.
In a mixer, beat the butter until fluffy. Add the sugars and beat again until mixture comes together and is no longer crumbly. Add the eggs one at a time mixing well and scraping down the sides of the bowl between each addition. Stir in the vanilla and then the zucchini (low speed if you are using a mixer).
In a separate bowl, combine the whole wheat pastry flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, and curry powder. Add these dry ingredients to the wet ingredients in two batches, stirring between each addition.
By hand, fold in the walnut, poppy seed, lemon zest, and crystalized ginger mixture. Save a bit of this to sprinkle on the tops of the zucchini loaves before baking for a bit of texture. Avoid over mixing the batter, it should be thick and moist, not unlike a butter cream frosting.
Divide the batter equally between the two loaf pans. Make sure it is level in the pans, by running a spatula over the top of each loaf. Bake for about 40-45 minutes on a middle oven rack. I like to under bake my zucchini bread ever so slightly to ensure it stays moist. Keep in mind it will continue to cook even after it is removed from the oven as it is cooling. Remove from the oven and cool the zucchini bread in pan for about ten minutes. Turn out onto wire racks to finish cooling - if you leave them in their pans, they will get sweaty and moist (not in a good way) as they cool.
So, the Fathers day morning, I contributed my zucchini bread to the brunch table. Dad was pleased.
