Glazed Lemon Yogurt Bread

Between Christmas and New Year. The liminal space. Leftover lamb in the refrigerator in four containers labeled by day because I have become the kind of person who labels leftovers, which is either organization or the first sign of middle age. The lamb became Monday sandwiches, Tuesday rice bowls, Wednesday soup. By Thursday the lamb was gone and I was making a fresh pot of avgolemono from the bone broth because no bone in this house leaves without contributing its full nutritional value to a soup. This is the Greek way. This is thrift dressed up as cuisine.

I spent two days at the bakery between the holidays, helping Mama with the New Year rush. Vasilopita orders are coming in — the New Year cake with the hidden coin. Mama makes each one by hand, each one the same recipe: butter, eggs, orange zest, a golden cake that rises tall and cuts into even slices so the coin distribution is fair. She made thirty vasilopitas this week. Thirty. Each with a coin wrapped in foil. Each with a family's luck inside it.

Alexander and Sophia are in full winter break mode — sleeping late, eating constantly, existing in the suspended animation that is the last week of December for every student in America. They watch movies on the couch and eat kourabiedes and argue about what to watch next. I let them argue. Arguing is practice for life. The kourabiedes are practice for nothing — they are already perfect, because Mama made them and Mama's kourabiedes are beyond improvement.

I received my year-end numbers from the brokerage. Top eight in Hillsborough County. Top eight. Two spots higher than last year. The number sat on my screen and I stared at it and felt the particular pride of a woman who has earned every digit through work and persistence and the stubborn belief that a Greek woman with spanakopita can sell more houses than any man with a marketing budget.

I made vasilopita for our family — my own recipe, not Mama's, because every woman needs at least one recipe she makes differently from her mother and this is mine. My vasilopita has more orange zest than Mama's and a splash of brandy that Mama considers unnecessary and I consider essential. I hid the coin and baked it and the cake rose golden and fragrant and the kitchen smelled like oranges and possibility. Tomorrow is New Year's Eve. The cake will be cut. The coin will find someone. 2018 is coming. I am ready. I have been ready since 2010, when ready was the only option because the alternative was giving up, and Papadopouloses do not give up. We do not even know the word. We only know the word for more olive oil.

The vasilopita was already cooling on the rack — Mama’s thirty and mine, all that orange zest and possibility — and I still had Greek yogurt in the refrigerator and the oven warm and the particular restlessness of a woman who has earned her year-end numbers and has not yet figured out what to do with her hands. This glazed lemon yogurt bread is what happens in that space: it is not as ceremonial as a vasilopita, there is no coin inside, no family luck riding on it. It is quieter than that. It is the bread you bake on December 30th because the kitchen already smells like citrus and you are not ready to stop.

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
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
1 cup plain whole-milk Greek yogurt
1 cup granulated sugar
3 large eggs, room temperature
2 teaspoons freshly grated lemon zest (from about 2 lemons)
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/2 cup neutral vegetable oil
For the lemon syrup: 1/3 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice + 1/3 cup granulated sugar
For the glaze: 1 cup confectioners’ sugar, sifted + 3 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice

Instructions

Preheat and prepare. Heat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x5-inch loaf pan with butter and dust lightly with flour, tapping out any excess.
Combine the dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.
Mix the wet ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the Greek yogurt, sugar, eggs, lemon zest, and vanilla until smooth and well combined. Slowly drizzle in the vegetable oil, whisking constantly, until fully incorporated.
Fold in the flour. Add the dry ingredients to the wet mixture and fold gently with a rubber spatula just until no dry streaks remain — do not overmix.
Bake. Pour the batter into the prepared loaf pan and smooth the top. Bake for 50 to 55 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean and the top is deep golden.
Make the lemon syrup. While the bread bakes, combine the lemon juice and granulated sugar in a small saucepan over medium heat. Stir until the sugar dissolves completely, about 3 minutes. Remove from heat.
Soak the warm bread. Let the baked loaf cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then turn it out onto a wire rack set over a baking sheet. Use a skewer or toothpick to poke holes across the top. Slowly spoon the warm lemon syrup over the bread, allowing it to soak in fully.
Glaze and finish. Once the bread is completely cool, whisk together the confectioners’ sugar and lemon juice until smooth. Pour the glaze over the top of the loaf and let it set for 15 minutes before slicing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Glazed Lemon Yogurt Bread — The Citrus Light of a New Year’s Kitchen