Okay friends, let’s just go ahead and get this out of the way: Hi, my name is Christine and I am a confessed coffee addict. I love coffee. I love the smell of it, the ritual of it, the way it hits my bloodstream like a warm hug and a motivational speech all in one. I love it iced, hot, cold brew, latte’d, or straight-up black like my soul when I accidentally click “Reply All.”

And while we’re confessing things, let’s add this one: I love me a trip to the coffee shop. You know the one. You walk in and they already know your name (and if they don’t, they should, because you're basically funding their espresso machine maintenance plan). You get your favorite drink and—because you’re just being a little treat girl today—you add a sweet something from that tempting little display case. It’s the adult version of a Happy Meal.

But here’s the thing.

And I say this with all the love in my lemon-scented heart: that quick little caffeine-and-cake run is starting to feel a tad less “treat” and a bit more like a car payment. Have you SEEN the price of a slice of lemon loaf these days? It’s giving “inflation who?” energy, and not in a good way.

Worse? Miss Ivy (this girl is a super taster, which makes our ARFID journey even more interesting) recently took a bite of that lemon loaf and turned to me with all the sass and honesty of a Michelin reviewer and declared:
“Why does this taste like lemon-scented cleaner?”

RUDE.

But not wrong.

So! Mama had to pivot. Because I still need my lemony hit with my afternoon coffee, and Miss Ivy needs something she’ll actually eat (and no way am I losing my favorite coffee date buddy). That’s when I remembered that I do, in fact, own a bundt loaf pan for reasons that have nothing to do with practicality and everything to do with aesthetics. If I’m going to eat cake, it better be cute.

Thus, this Copycat Starbucks Lemon Loaf was born. But like, better. Because this one actually tastes like real lemons and doesn’t have that weird fake citrus vibe that makes you wonder if you should be cleaning windows with it instead.

So let’s get to it, shall we?

Real Deal Lemon Loaf (Because We Deserve Better)

What you’ll need:

For the loaf:

• 1 ½ cups all-purpose flour

• ½ teaspoon baking powder

• ½ teaspoon baking soda

• ½ teaspoon salt

• 3 large eggs

• 1 cup granulated sugar

• ½ cup sour cream (full fat, don’t get fancy here)

• ½ cup vegetable oil

• Zest of 2 lemons

• Juice of 1 large lemon (about 3 tbsp)

• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract (okay, fine, this is the one extract I’ll allow)

For the glaze:

• 1 cup powdered sugar

• 1–2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

• Extra lemon zest for the top if you’re feeling extra (and when am I not?)

Directions (aka How to Make Your Kitchen Smell Like Heaven)

1. Preheat your oven to 350°F (175°C). Grease that bundt loaf pan like it owes you money. You could also use a regular loaf pan, but this is not the time to be basic.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk together your flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Set aside. Let it sit there and reflect on its purpose.

3. In a large bowl (or the bowl of your stand mixer, because we are luxurious now), whisk the eggs and sugar together until it’s light and a little fluffy—kind of like how I feel when I accidentally drink coffee on an empty stomach.

4. Add the sour cream, oil, lemon zest, lemon juice, and vanilla extract. Mix until smooth. Take a deep breath. This is going to be good.

5. Slowly add the dry ingredients to the wet, mixing until just combined. Do not overmix. I say this with love, but we’re making cake, not cement.

6. Pour that sunshiney batter into your prepared bundt pan and smooth the top. Bake for 40–50 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean and the top has a lovely golden glow like it just came back from a beach vacation.

7. Let it cool in the pan for about 10 minutes, then turn it out onto a wire rack to finish cooling. Feel smug. You’ve done something excellent today.

Now for the glaze:

1. Whisk together the powdered sugar and lemon juice until smooth and pourable. You want it thick enough to cling but thin enough to drizzle dramatically.

2. Once your loaf is cool, drizzle that glaze allllll over the top. Don’t rush it. Let it fall into the grooves and dips of your bundt like a lemony lava flow.

3. Top with a bit of extra lemon zest if you’re feeling fancy, which, let’s be honest, I always am.

A Few Notes from the Trenches (a.k.a. my kitchen)

• You could totally use lemon extract if you’re into that kind of thing, but I’m all about that real lemon life. Fresh juice, fresh zest, fresh perspective.

• If your glaze ends up too runny, add more powdered sugar. If it’s too thick, a splash more juice. It’s not brain surgery—it’s cake.

• This loaf gets better after a few hours (if you can wait), and it’s divine the next day with a hot cup of coffee and five minutes of peace (read: hiding in the pantry).

So there you have it. My latest excuse to avoid the overpriced pastry case and make my own joy at home. Honestly, I may never go back to the store-bought version unless it’s an emergency. Or I’m already in the drive-thru. Or it’s Tuesday. No promises.

But for now, I’ve got a slice of sunshine sitting on my kitchen counter, a fresh cup of coffee, and Miss Ivy’s seal of approval. That’s a win.

Go forth, friends. Bake the loaf. Live your lemon dreams. Make it pretty.

And don’t forget to take a picture before you eat half of it “just to test it.”

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.