Sunday, October 3, 2010

Saturday, October 2, 2010

It's really October.  I can't believe how fast this year is flying by.  Because it's October, I'm celebrating fall.  Nothing says fall to me like zucchini bread. Very few things make me happier than the smell of nutmeg, cloves and cinnamon wafting out of the kitchen.

Here is the story of this zucchini bread:  On Monday night, I was in Sequim, Washington with my boss, Jennifer (yes, Sunny Sequim - a beautiful location, but a little light on the whole "restaurant thing").  To be perfectly honest, I haven't dined at a lot of places out here, but the one place that looked promising on Yelp was closed on Mondays.  Ugh.  We wound up at a little Italian joint called Tarcisio's.   The food wasn't horrible, but we both ordered a dish that was served with grilled zucchini on the side.  The slices were ginormous and tasted a little bit like heaven.  We mentioned so much to the waitress.  She explained that there is a local farmer that sells them and right now they have so many that there is hardly any other space in their refrigerators.  I jokingly mentioned that I would be more than happy to take one off of their hands.
It pays to joke around.
The waitress came back to our table with the biggest zucchini I've ever seen all wrapped up and ready to go. *Grin*

On to tonight...
This zucchini shredded enough to make 3 batches of bread.  OMG.  I couldn't justify 3, but 2 batches was a snap...or so I thought.  I mean, I had even picked up extra eggs and everything.  I totally had enough ingredients.  Well, except I was missing a cup of sugar.
Here is the one benefit of living in an apartment complex: My boyfriend totally lived out the experience of literally asking a neighbor for a cup of sugar.
Wow.  He is my hero.
And his efforts helped create the best zucchini bread I've ever had in my life.

(And we have enough to have extra loaves in the freezer.  Woo Hoo!)


  1. The bread looks reallly good. Did you use the flash on this also.

  2. Nope - no flash on this one. Just available light.