Fluffy Zucchini Cornbread

Brandon's mother, Linda, called Wednesday to discuss Thanksgiving. Linda calls to discuss Thanksgiving the way generals call to discuss troop movements — there is a plan, the plan has been made, your role has been assigned, and your opinions, while theoretically welcome, will not alter the operational timeline. We are going to Idaho Falls. We are going Thursday morning. We are bringing a side dish and a dessert. I said I would bring funeral potatoes and a pie and Linda said, "Oh, you don't need to bring funeral potatoes, I'm making a potato casserole," and I said, "Those are the same thing, Linda," and she said, "Mine are different," and I let it go because marriage is choosing your battles and my mother-in-law's potato casserole is a battle I will fight internally and never out loud.

I'm bringing funeral potatoes anyway. And a pie. Pumpkin, from scratch — Denise Cooper's recipe, which is my grandmother's recipe, which is probably Betty Crocker's recipe with my grandmother's name written over the top in pencil, but it's ours now, three generations deep, and the crust is lard-based because some things are worth the arterial risk.

Sunday prep went well. Eleven meals this week — I was short on chicken so I pivoted to a double batch of taco soup, which is the most forgiving recipe in my rotation because you can throw in whatever you have and it still tastes like Tuesday night comfort. I also made a big batch of turkey meatballs because turkeys were on sale for forty-nine cents a pound — loss leader pricing, the grocery store's way of luring you in for Thanksgiving shopping. I bought three turkeys. One for Idaho Falls, one for the freezer in parts, one because forty-nine cents a pound is forty-nine cents a pound and the accountant in me does not leave money on the table.

Olivia has been asking questions about Thanksgiving — not the holiday, the history. She's doing a school project on the Wampanoag and she came to me with her textbook open and said, "Mom, this is really sad," and I said yes, and she said, "Why do we celebrate it then?" and I didn't have a good answer, so I said what I always say when I don't have a good answer: "Let's make something." We made cornbread together. She measured the flour. She cracked the eggs. She didn't ask any more questions she knew I couldn't answer, and I was grateful, because I am fresh out of answers this year and the cornbread was enough.

The cornbread we made that afternoon wasn’t fancy—it was just something to do with our hands while the hard questions sat unanswered on the counter. But Olivia kept sneaking bites before it cooled, and that felt like enough of a verdict. I’ve since made it my own with shredded zucchini, which keeps it moist for days and makes me feel slightly better about calling it breakfast—here’s how it comes together.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 12

Ingredients

1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup yellow cornmeal
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup shredded zucchini (about 1 medium), squeezed dry
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup whole milk
1/3 cup unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled
1/2 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese (optional but recommended)

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 400°F. Grease a 9x9-inch baking pan or a 10-inch cast iron skillet and set aside.
Squeeze the zucchini. Grate the zucchini on the large holes of a box grater, then wrap it in a clean kitchen towel or several layers of paper towel and squeeze firmly until most of the moisture is out. You want about 1 cup after squeezing.
Mix dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder, and salt until evenly combined.
Mix wet ingredients. In a separate bowl or large measuring cup, whisk together the eggs, milk, and melted butter.
Combine. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir until just combined — a few small lumps are fine. Fold in the shredded zucchini and cheddar cheese if using. Do not overmix.
Bake. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and spread evenly. Bake for 22–26 minutes, until the top is golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
Cool and cut. Let the cornbread cool in the pan for at least 10 minutes before slicing. Serve warm.

Nutrition (per serving)

Fluffy Zucchini Cornbread — The Batch We Made When the Questions Got Too Big