Zucchini Carrot Bread

Three weeks. The recliner was moved to Cedarhurst on Monday. David supervised. I did not go. I could not watch the chair leave this house. I stood in the living room after it was gone and looked at the space where the chair had been — the rectangle of slightly less worn carpet, the indent in the rug, the ghost of the chair, the absence of Marvin's most personal possession — and I thought: the chair is gone. The chair is in a room in Cedarhurst waiting for the man who will sit in it. The man is still here, in this house, for three more weeks. But the chair has gone ahead, like an advance scout, preparing the way, making the room a little more Marvin before Marvin arrives.

I spent the weekend cooking for the freezer — containers of brisket, containers of soup, containers of kugel, all labeled and dated and stacked in the facility's kitchen with the staff's permission, because when Marvin arrives, the food will be there, the familiar food, the taste of home in a place that is not home, and the taste will be the bridge, the way the chair is the bridge, the way the visits will be the bridge. Everything I can carry from this house to that room, I will carry. Everything that can travel, will travel. The food travels. The love travels. The chair travels. Ruth travels. Every day. With food. With love. With the chain.

Passover is in three weeks and I will do it — the seder, the table, the fourteen people — without Marvin. Not without Marvin: Marvin will be at Cedarhurst. I will bring him a seder plate. I will bring him matzo. I will bring him brisket. But the seder at the Oceanside table will be the first seder in forty years without Marvin in his chair, and the chair at the table will be empty, or filled with someone else, or removed entirely, and I have not yet decided which option is more bearable, because none of them are bearable, and the choosing between unbearable options is the work of this month.

I made this alongside the brisket and the soup — another container to label, another thing to stack, another piece of home I could carry through those doors at Cedarhurst. The bread freezes beautifully, which matters when you are cooking for a future that is already arriving faster than you can prepare for it. A slice alongside soup, a slice with afternoon tea, a slice that says: I was here, I made this, I thought of you — that is what I wanted to give him, and this bread does it.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 55 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 10 minutes | Servings: 10 slices

Ingredients

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 large eggs
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup light brown sugar, packed
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 cup zucchini, grated and lightly squeezed of excess moisture
1/2 cup carrot, finely grated
1/2 cup chopped walnuts or raisins (optional)

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x5-inch loaf pan and line it with parchment paper, leaving an overhang on the sides for easy removal.
Mix the dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Set aside.
Whisk the wet ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, vegetable oil, granulated sugar, brown sugar, and vanilla extract until smooth and well combined.
Fold in the vegetables. Stir the grated zucchini and grated carrot into the wet ingredients until evenly distributed. If using, fold in the walnuts or raisins at this stage.
Combine wet and dry. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and fold gently with a spatula until just combined — do not overmix. A few streaks of flour are fine; the batter should be thick.
Bake the bread. Pour the batter into the prepared loaf pan and smooth the top. Bake for 50–60 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean and the top is golden brown.
Cool before slicing. Let the bread cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then lift out using the parchment and transfer to a wire rack to cool completely before slicing.
Freeze for later. Wrap individual slices or the whole loaf tightly in plastic wrap, then in foil, and freeze for up to 3 months. Thaw at room temperature or warm gently in a low oven.

Nutrition (per serving)

Zucchini Carrot Bread — Baked with Love for the Freezer, for Marvin