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Whole Wheat Zucchini Bread -- The Dough That Rises When You Need It Most

Election week. The country is distracted. I am also distracted, but not by politics — by the fact that chemo starts in two weeks and I have been reading about side effects at 2 AM on my phone and I need to stop but I can't because my brain has decided that preparation and obsession are the same thing. Hair loss. Nausea. Fatigue. Neuropathy. Mouth sores. Immune suppression. The list reads like a catalog of things designed to make you miserable, and I am going to endure all of them because the alternative is the cancer coming back, and I am more afraid of the cancer than I am of being miserable.

I had my chemo consultation on Thursday — met with the oncologist, Dr. Reyes, who is warm and thorough and wears glasses that are slightly too big for her face, which makes her look like a very smart owl. She explained the protocol: four rounds of AC (adriamycin and cyclophosphamide) followed by twelve weeks of Taxol. Six months total. Every other week for the AC, then weekly for the Taxol. I took notes. I asked questions. I was the most organized cancer patient in the building, which is how I cope — I turn terror into a spreadsheet.

I asked Dr. Reyes about working during chemo. She said some people can, some can't. She said to listen to my body. I have never listened to my body in my life — I am a ranch girl from Idaho who was raised to ignore pain and push through and "walk it off" — and now a doctor is telling me to listen to a body that just tried to kill me. The irony is not lost on me.

Scott went out Thursday night. Beer with the construction crew. He came home at 11, not drunk exactly but not sober either, and I was awake because I'm always awake now, sleeping in two-hour shifts between bouts of anxiety, and I looked at him in the doorway and thought: I cannot do this. I cannot fight cancer and fight a marriage at the same time. Something has to give. I don't know yet what it will be.

Mason brought home a picture he drew at school — "My Family." In it, there are four stick figures: a tall one labeled MAMA, a medium one labeled MASON, a small one labeled LILY, and a three-legged shape labeled HANK. There is no DADDY in the picture. I don't know if he forgot or if he drew what he sees. Either way, I put it on the refrigerator and didn't say anything about it.

I baked bread this week — the first real cooking I've done since surgery. My arms are weak and the kneading was hard, and I had to rest twice, but I made it. Mom's recipe. Flour, yeast, salt, water, sugar. The dough rose on the counter while I sat in the kitchen chair and watched it, and watching dough rise is an act of faith — you put the ingredients together, you do the work, and then you wait and trust that something will happen. It rose. It always rises. I shaped it into a loaf and baked it and the house smelled like bread and hope, which are the same thing.

That bread I baked from Mom’s recipe reminded me how much comfort lives in a loaf — in the weight of it, the smell of it, the way it makes a house feel inhabited again. When I was ready to bake something new, zucchini bread felt right: it’s humble and wholesome, the kind of thing you make when you want to feed people without making a fuss, when you just want something good to come out of the oven. Here’s the version I’ve been making for years, with whole wheat flour for a little extra heartiness.

Whole Wheat Zucchini Bread

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 55 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 10 minutes | Servings: 10 slices

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
  • 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
  • 2 large eggs
  • 1/3 cup olive oil or melted coconut oil
  • 1/2 cup honey or pure maple syrup
  • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  • 1 1/2 cups shredded zucchini (about 1 medium), lightly squeezed
  • 1/4 cup plain yogurt or unsweetened applesauce

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prepare. Heat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x5-inch loaf pan and set it aside. Take a breath. You’re already doing the hard part.
  2. Mix the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the whole wheat flour, all-purpose flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg.
  3. Mix the wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, beat the eggs, then whisk in the oil, honey, and vanilla until smooth. Stir in the yogurt or applesauce.
  4. Add the zucchini. Fold the shredded zucchini into the wet mixture. The moisture from the zucchini is what keeps this bread tender — don’t squeeze it too dry.
  5. Combine gently. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry and stir until just combined. A few streaks of flour are fine. Overmixing toughens the loaf; this one deserves to be gentle.
  6. Bake. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 50–60 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. If the top browns too fast, tent it loosely with foil after 35 minutes.
  7. Cool before slicing. Let the bread cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then turn it onto a wire rack. Wait at least 20 more minutes before slicing — the inside is still setting. Trust the process.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 195 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 210mg

Heather Dawson
About the cook who shared this
Heather Dawson
Week 33 of Heather’s 30-year story · Boise, Idaho
Heather is a forty-two-year-old vet tech, divorced single mom, and cancer survivor who grew up on a cattle ranch in southern Idaho. She beat Stage II breast cancer at thirty-two, lost her marriage six months later, and rebuilt her life around her two kids, her three-legged pit bull, and her mother's cinnamon roll recipe. She cooks ranch food on a vet tech's budget and doesn't sugarcoat anything — except the cinnamon rolls.

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