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Olive Oil Cake -- The Zucchini Season and the Glass Between Us

I met Sarah at the VA in Billings.

Not this week — she was there two weeks ago, briefly, in the waiting room, and we didn't talk. She's a nurse at the VA, not a patient, and I noticed her the way you notice someone who does their job with an unhurried competence: she was explaining something to a veteran twice her age who was frustrated and confused, and she explained it three times in three different ways until he understood, and she never looked at the clock once. I noticed that.

This week she was in the parking lot when I came out from my PT appointment, and she said, "You're from Roundup, right? I've seen you a few times." I said I was. She said, "I'm Sarah." I said, "Ryan." We talked for maybe five minutes about nothing important — the drive from Roundup, the heat, whether the VA cafeteria coffee was really as bad as everyone said (it is). I drove home thinking about the five minutes more than I'd thought about five minutes with a person in a long time.

I mentioned it to Gary Thursday. He said, "Did you ask for her number?" I said no. He said, "Why not?" I said I didn't know. He said, "Yes you do." I thought about that for the rest of the week. Yes I do. Because I'm behind glass and I don't know how to come through it toward someone without the glass breaking everything.

Mom made her zucchini bread this week — we're into the zucchini portion of August, where the garden produces zucchini faster than any reasonable family can eat it and you have to get creative. Zucchini bread. Zucchini soup. Zucchini in everything. The bread is genuinely good though, sweet and dense, sliced thick and eaten with butter.

Mom’s zucchini bread has been on the counter all week — sliced thick, eaten with butter, the kind of thing that doesn’t ask anything of you. I’ve been thinking about that quality a lot lately: food that just shows up and is what it is, no glass between you and it. This olive oil cake has the same feel — dense and a little sweet, built from simple pantry things, the kind of recipe that belongs to August kitchens and slow Thursday mornings when you’re still working something out in your head.

Olive Oil Cake

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 10

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 cup granulated sugar
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon fine salt
  • 3 large eggs, room temperature
  • 3/4 cup good-quality extra-virgin olive oil
  • 3/4 cup whole milk
  • 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
  • 1 teaspoon lemon zest
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • Powdered sugar, for dusting (optional)

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prepare. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9-inch round cake pan with a little olive oil and line the bottom with parchment paper.
  2. Combine dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt until evenly mixed.
  3. Whisk wet ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk the eggs until lightly beaten, then whisk in the olive oil, milk, lemon juice, lemon zest, and vanilla extract until smooth and combined.
  4. Mix the batter. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and stir gently with a rubber spatula until just combined — a few small lumps are fine. Do not overmix.
  5. Bake. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top. Bake for 40–45 minutes, until the top is deep golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
  6. Cool. Let the cake cool in the pan for 15 minutes, then turn it out onto a wire rack to cool completely. Dust with powdered sugar before serving if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 17g | Carbs: 36g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 160mg

Ryan Gallagher
About the cook who shared this
Ryan Gallagher
Week 124 of Ryan’s 30-year story · Billings, Montana
Ryan is a thirty-one-year-old Army veteran and ranch hand in Billings, Montana, who cooks over open fire because microwaves feel dishonest and because the quiet of a campfire is the only therapy that works for him consistently. He hunts his own elk, catches his own trout, and makes a camp stew that tastes like the mountains smell. He doesn't talk much. But his food says everything.

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