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Mom's Classic Zucchini Bread — The Loaf That Made Me Forget All My Problems (And the Zucchini Situation)

Dad's garden is producing. And by producing, I mean that we are now drowning in zucchini. There is zucchini on the kitchen counter, zucchini in the fridge, zucchini in a basket on the back porch, and I'm pretty sure if I opened my sock drawer there would be zucchini in there too. Kevin Abernathy does not garden halfway. Kevin Abernathy gardens like he's feeding a battalion. 'We need to eat these,' Mom said on Wednesday, surveying the zucchini situation with the expression of a general assessing a battlefield. And then she did what Donna Abernathy does: she turned a problem into a meal. Actually, multiple meals. Tuesday: zucchini fritters. Grated zucchini, squeezed dry in a towel (this step is critical, Mom says; wet zucchini makes sad fritters), mixed with egg, flour, parmesan, garlic, salt, pepper. Pan-fried in olive oil until golden. Served with sour cream. Dad ate six and said 'These are good' in a tone of genuine surprise, as if the zucchini he'd been growing for months had somehow caught him off guard by being edible. Wednesday: zucchini bread. Two loaves. One for us, one for Mrs. Chen next door. Mom's recipe is a classic — grated zucchini, flour, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, eggs, oil, vanilla, and walnuts. The house smelled like a bakery. I ate two slices warm with butter and temporarily forgot all my problems. Thursday: stuffed zucchini boats. Halved lengthwise, scooped out, filled with a mixture of Italian sausage, breadcrumbs, tomato sauce, and mozzarella, baked until bubbly. This was the winner. The sausage filling was savory and rich and the zucchini was tender and the cheese on top was melted and golden and I think I made a noise while eating that was inappropriate at a family dinner table. Friday: I begged Mom to stop cooking zucchini. She said, 'Tell your father to stop growing it.' I told Dad. He looked at me with the betrayed expression of a man whose own daughter has questioned his agricultural choices and said, 'The plants need to produce. That's what they do.' And then he went back outside to check on the tomatoes. This is my family. My father grows vegetables with military precision and takes it personally when you suggest there might be too many. My mother turns agricultural overabundance into a week-long cooking series. My sister calls from D.C. to suggest we 'donate the extras to a food bank,' which is a lovely idea, Megan, but also you're not here drowning in zucchini, so sit down. I love summer. I love this weird, zucchini-filled life. I love that my father, who spent twenty-two years at war (or preparing for war, or recovering from war), is now at war with zucchini plants and losing gloriously. Four weeks until ODU. The zucchini bread was the best thing I've eaten this summer.

So Mom made zucchini bread—because of course she did, because that’s what we do with a zucchini surplus in this house, we bake our way through it until Dad feels vindicated. It was the right call. There’s something quietly perfect about zucchini bread: it takes the most aggressively abundant vegetable of summer and turns it into something warm and spiced and worth sharing, which feels like a metaphor for my whole family if I think about it too hard. Here’s her recipe, exactly as she made it.

Mom’s Classic Zucchini Bread

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 60 min | Total Time: 1 hr 20 min | Servings: 16 slices (2 loaves)

Ingredients

  • 3 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 tsp baking soda
  • 1 tsp baking powder
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 2 tsp ground cinnamon
  • 1/4 tsp ground nutmeg
  • 3 large eggs
  • 1 cup vegetable oil
  • 2 cups granulated sugar
  • 2 tsp vanilla extract
  • 3 cups grated zucchini (about 2 medium zucchini)
  • 1 cup chopped walnuts

Instructions

  1. Prep the oven and pans. Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease two 9x5-inch loaf pans and set aside.
  2. Squeeze the zucchini dry. Grate the zucchini on the large holes of a box grater, then pile it into a clean kitchen towel and wring out as much moisture as you can. This step is critical — wet zucchini makes a dense, sad loaf.
  3. Whisk the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg until evenly combined.
  4. Mix the wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, beat the eggs, oil, sugar, and vanilla together until smooth and slightly pale, about 1–2 minutes by hand.
  5. Combine wet and dry. Pour the wet mixture into the dry ingredients and stir until just combined. Do not overmix — a few streaks of flour are fine at this stage.
  6. Fold in the zucchini and walnuts. Add the squeezed zucchini and chopped walnuts and fold gently until evenly distributed throughout the batter.
  7. Fill the pans and bake. Divide the batter evenly between the two prepared loaf pans. Bake for 55–65 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean and the tops are deep golden brown.
  8. Cool before slicing. Let the loaves rest in the pans for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack. Slice warm with plenty of butter. Temporarily forget all your problems.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 285 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 15g | Carbs: 36g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 155mg

Rachel Abernathy
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 18 of Rachel’s 30-year story · San Diego, California
Rachel is a twenty-eight-year-old Marine wife and mom of two who has moved five times in six years and learned to cook a Thanksgiving dinner with half her cookware still in boxes. She married young, survived postpartum depression, and feeds her family of four on a junior Marine's salary with a freezer full of pre-made meals and a crockpot that has never let her down. She writes for the military spouses who are cooking dinner alone in base housing and wondering if they're enough. You are.

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