Vanilla Orange Bundt Loaf: Because My Soul Needs Cake (and My New Bundt Pan Deserves a Workout)

It’s January, the month when we all pretend to be the best version of ourselves—eating more vegetables, drinking more water, and generally making life decisions that don’t involve sugar or carbs. But you know what? I’ve decided to take a different approach to my New Year’s resolution. This year, I’m resolving to feed both my body and my soul. And let’s be honest here, my soul is really craving cake. Preferably something that involves a little citrusy zing, a lot of vanilla, and, ideally, a bundt pan. (Because I’m fancy now, obviously.)

Speaking of bundt pans, have I mentioned that Ivy’s brother got me a gorgeous new bundt pan for Christmas? I mean, it’s like he’s psychic and knows that, deep down, I’m just one cute kitchen gadget away from becoming an elite baker. (It can’t possibly be because I totally pointed it out to him in Williams Sonoma along with a “I really, really, really, REALLY like this one Z!” )It’s shiny, intricate, and it definitely makes me feel like I have my life together. HA! As if!! But I digress.

After admiring my new pan for a solid week, I finally decided to make something that would do it justice—a vanilla orange bundt loaf. Why vanilla and orange, you ask? Because I wanted something that would give me a little freshness without sacrificing the kind of cozy, comforting sweetness I crave in January (aka, post-holiday-depression-cake). The result? A fragrant, fluffy loaf that tastes like a hug from a citrus tree. It’s soft, moist, and has just enough zest to remind you that you’re still somewhat alive after the chaotic holiday season.

Ingredients:
• 1 ½ cups all-purpose flour
• 1 ½ tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/2 cup Olive Oil (regular, not EVOO)
• 2/3 cups granulated sugar
• 4 large eggs
• 1 tbsp vanilla extract
• 1 tbsp orange zest (freshly grated, don’t even think about using the jarred stuff)
• 1 cups sour cream (this makes it moist, and I am very into moist cakes)
• 1 tsp vanilla bean paste (or another splash of vanilla extract, but vanilla bean paste is my personal flex)
• A generous dusting of powdered sugar for that Instagrammable finish (because we all know that’s half the reason we bake)

Directions:

1. Preheat and Prep: First, preheat your oven to 350°F (175°C). While the oven is warming up, grease your new bundt pan like your life depends on it. (Trust me, I’ve been burned by a stuck bundt cake before, and it’s traumatic.) I looooooove Pam for Baking. You do you, but make sure this thing is greased like a 1980s action movie star.
2. Mix Dry Ingredients: In a medium bowl, whisk together your flour, baking powder and salt. Set aside. This is the part where you pretend to be a professional baker and nod knowingly as you say things like, “Oh, yes, I always sift my flour before baking.” Spoiler alert: I didn’t sift. But I did whisk.
3. Whisk the Olive Oil and Sugar: In a large bowl, whisk the oil and sugar together until it’s light and fluffy. This will take about 3-4 minutes. Don’t skimp on this step, even though it’s so easy to give up and start snacking on leftover holiday cookies instead. Fight the urge.
4. Add Eggs and Vanilla: Whisk in the eggs one at a time, making sure each one is fully incorporated before adding the next. Then, mix in the vanilla bean paste (if you’re trying to be that cool baker who uses vanilla bean paste). Now your kitchen will smell like a vanilla-scented candle, and you’ll have to resist the urge to just sit in front of the mixer and sniff the air.
5. Mix in the Zesty Goodness: Add your orange zest (which makes you feel like you’re on vacation in a citrus grove). Stir it in like you’re living your best citrus-filled life. Pro tip: If you have a little zest leftover, throw it in your morning coffee. Not a traditional addition, but trust me, it’s refreshing.
6. Alternate Dry Ingredients and Sour Cream: Now, take the dry ingredients you set aside and gradually add them to the butter mixture, alternating with the sour cream. Start and end with the dry ingredients. Don’t worry if it looks a little lumpy—lumps are just evidence of character in this world of over-slick perfection.
7. Pour and Bake: Pour your batter into the prepared bundt pan. Gently tap the pan on the counter to get rid of any air bubbles (this is important, trust me), then bake for 50-60 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean. The smell of this cake baking will seriously test your willpower. I couldn’t resist and had to taste test it at least three times while it was still cooling.
8. Cool and Finish: Once your cake is out of the oven and cooling, resist the urge to cut into it immediately. I know it’s hard, but your future self will thank you when it doesn’t crumble into a sad mess. After about 10 minutes of cooling, remove the cake from the pan, and let it cool completely on a wire rack. If you go more than 10 minutes, the sugar is going to start hardening and that gets cake stuck. Once it’s cool, dust with powdered sugar. Now you’re ready for the Instagram shot.

Why I’m Totally Going to Stick to This New Year’s Resolution

So, about that resolution? I’ve decided that feeding my soul is just as important as feeding my body. And honestly, after all the green smoothies I’ve eaten (because I’m nothing if not health-conscious in January), my soul was starting to sound like a broken record: “Cake, cake, cake!”

Now, I know this vanilla orange bundt loaf might not be the answer to all of life’s problems, but it sure does make everything feel a little bit better. Plus, my new bundt pan is definitely getting a workout. It was a thoughtful gift, and it deserves to be used. And let’s face it, I deserve cake. We all do. So, in 2025, I’m going to feed my soul with more cake, more joy, and more moments where I stand in front of my oven, licking the batter off the spoon, thinking, “This is exactly what my soul needed.”

If you’re in the mood to nourish your body and soul, try this vanilla orange bundt loaf. It’s the perfect mix of cozy and citrusy, and it’s guaranteed to make you feel like you’ve got your life together—even if, like me, you’re just using a shiny new pan as an excuse to eat cake.

Happy New Year, my fellow cake lovers. May your bundt pans always be full.