Ahhh quick-breads. So simple to create and also so quick to disappear. This zucchini bread was a main feature of our summer menu a number of years back. The reason? Each year our vegetable patch would explode with zucchinis. They were everywhere. Far more flavoursome than those purchased from the supermarket, we frantically tried to convert them into quiches, pastas and the like. This loaf became a favourite – largely because it was sweet rather than savoury (we are a household of sweet tooths). My cousin used to make shoes by carving out the centre of the ones left to grow to abnormally large sizes. There were also one or two incidences of ‘sword-fighting’ though it usually ended with one persons weapon exploding into a grisly mess. I have a feeling that making zucchini bread is a slightly more economical way of using up the masses.
A crunchy outer layer gives way to a soft almost crumbly, centre. It is surprising how sweet the bread tastes considering the sugar to flour ratio. The zucchinis keep it lovely and moist whilst the walnuts add a hidden crunch and enhance the nutty undertones of the wholemeal flour. All of this culminates in by far the best zucchini bread I have tasted. A dangerous statement, I know, but now you will just have to try it!
Makes one 12 by 22cm loaf.
1 tsp vanilla essence
2/3 cup caster sugar
2/3 cup vegetable oil
1 1/3 cup grated zucchini
1 cup wholemeal flour
1 cup wholemeal SR flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp cinnamon
½ cup walnuts, chopped
Preheat oven to 180C and grease a 12 by 22cm loaf tin (or one of a similar size).
Whisk eggs until pale and thick. Gradually incorporate sugar, then vanilla and oil.
Sift together flours, baking powder, cinnamon and salt. Fold in zucchini, then dry ingredients and nuts, until just combined.
Transfer to loaf tin and bake approximately one hour or until brown on top and a skewer comes out clean when inserted.
Leave in tin on a wire rack for ten minutes. Remove from tin and allow to cool completely.
Serve sliced with a little butter and a cup of tea.
Source: Dad’s ‘holy’ recipe folder.