This Lemon Loaf Is Basically Like Sunshine in a Pan

You know how sometimes you crave something citrusy and sweet, but also want to actually be able to eat it without any trouble? That was basically my brain when I started playing around with this gluten-free lemon loaf. There was one birthday years ago (okay, fine, last year) when I made this for my cousin—she has celiac, so most bakery versions are off-limits—and people were actually fighting over crumbs. I don’t always get it right on the first go, but after a couple kitchen disasters (including one batch that completely shrunk into itself like my confidence after karaoke), this is the version. And let me tell you, it’s my rainy day mood-booster. Or you know, Tuesday treat. Plus, it smells so much like spring that even my grumpy neighbor commented, which I think is saying something.

Why You’re Gonna Want to Make This ASAP

I make this when I want something that feels fancy but only takes like, a coffee break’s worth of effort—my family goes nuts for it every time (especially my mum, who claims she “doesn’t like sweets” but somehow manages two slices). It’s the loaf I whip up when friends are coming over for tea, or when I feel like life needs a little more zest (pun intended, duh). The best part? It stays super tender without any of that weird graininess you sometimes get in gluten free bakes. Also, if you’ve ever fought with lemon zest grating everywhere, I promise this one is worth the clean up. Even if you do find tiny bits hiding under your fingernails for hours. Not that I speak form experience, of course!

What You’ll Need (and What to Swap if You Must)

1 cup gluten-free all purpose flour blend (I usually use King Arthur or Bob’s Red Mill, but honestly, whatever is handy will probs work)
1/2 cup almond flour (when I’m out, I totally just use ground oats—texture changes a bit, but no one’s fussed)
2 teaspoons baking powder (non-negotiable!)
1/4 teaspoon salt (I usually just eyeball a pinch though)
2 large eggs
1/2 cup sugar (sometimes I swap in coconut sugar but it makes the color darker—still yum)
Zest of 2 lemons (my grandmother always insisted on using Meyer lemons, but regular lemons are totally fine here)
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice (yep, squeeze it yourself—bottled is only for emergencies)
1/4 cup milk (dairy or any not-too-sweet plant milk—oat milk is great, soy is fine, you get it)
1/3 cup melted butter or mild olive oil (I know, butter is classic, but oil keeps it extra moist—your call)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (sometimes I forget and the world keeps turning)

How To Throw It Together (Don’t Stress)

Preheat your oven to 350F (175C). Grab a standard loaf pan and line it with parchment if you can—less washing up, honestly. If you forget, just grease it well; a buttered napkin works in a pinch.
In a big bowl, whisk your dry ingredients: gluten-free flour, almond flour, baking powder, and salt. No need to sift unless you’re out to win a patisserie medal.
In a separate bowl, beat together eggs and sugar until it looks pale and a bit frothy. Now zest those lemons right in—some gets on the counter? That means you’re doing it right.
Add in your lemon juice, milk, melted butter (or oil), and vanilla. Give it a good stir. This is where I usually sneak a taste, just to make sure it’s “lemony enough.” Don’t worry if it looks separated at this point; it magically sorts itself out after the next step.
Mix dry into wet with a spatula until just combined. No over-stirring! Actually, when in doubt, I under-mix a little. There might be lumps and that’s okay.
Pour (or plop, really) the batter into the loaf pan. Smooth the top, but don’t fuss. Into the oven it goes for 45-50 mins. Sometimes mine’s done in 42, sometimes 52—I dunno, ovens have moods.
Test with a toothpick in the middle; should come out nearly clean. A crumb or two clinging is perfect. Cool in pan for 10 mins, then pop it onto a wire rack (or just a regular cooling rack that does double duty for laundry in my world).
Optional: While it’s still warm, brush the top with a bit more lemon juice mixed with confectioner’s sugar, if you’re feeling extra snazzy.

Stuff I’ve Learned the Hard Way (Notes!)

The texture improves as it sits. I think this tastes better the next day—if you can wait that long.
If you skip parchment paper, the corners might stick—don’t panic, just run a knife round the edge.
Squeezing lemons with a fork works fine if you don’t have a fancy juicer. Actually, it’s kinda satisfying.

Getting Creative: Variations (You Win Some, You Lose Some)

I’ve jazzed it up with poppy seeds a few times—about a tablespoon or so—big hit with my niece. Adds a fun crunch!
Tried swapping the lemon for orange once. It…wasn’t the same (too sweet for me!). Lime works ok, but lemon’s still my gold star.
Sometimes I stir in a handful of blueberries (fresh or frozen, both work but frozen might make it a bit more dense).

What If You Don’t Have All the Equipment?

Honestly, the only “essential” here is a loaf pan. But, I once used a square cake tin and just watched the clock (shaved about 6 mins off bake time). Mixing with a fork instead of a whisk? Been there. Works. Kitchen gadgets are nice, but not a deal-breaker.

How To Keep Your Lemon Loaf Fresh (In Theory)

Wrap it well in cling film or pop in a container; it’ll keep on the counter up to 3 days. Fridge, if it’s super hot out. Though, honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day. If you do want to freeze leftovers, slice first and wrap tight. Defrosts quick—perfect for secret midnight snacks.

How We Serve It at My Place (Because Everyone Asks)

I love it with a mug of strong tea (Yorkshire Gold, by the way) or lately, dunked in oat milk. My kids sometimes demand a dollop of thick yogurt on the side. Oh, and on birthdays, we top it with extra lemon glaze and some berries. Try it!

Lessons I’ve Learned (a.K.a. Not-So-Secret Pro Tips)

Don’t rush the cooling step, trust me. I once cut into it too soon and ended up with a crumbly mess…delicious, but, y’know, a mess.
Lemon zest gets everywhere. Collect it on wax paper, less chasing stray bits around the kitchen. Or just accept citrus confetti as a kitchen reality.
Don’t skip the salt. I used to forget it—loaf always tasted a bit flat, somehow. Even a little pinch really perks it up.

Gluten-Free Lemon Loaf FAQs (Or, Stuff People Actually Ask Me)

Can I make this vegan?: Yep! Swap the eggs for 1/3 cup applesauce or two flax eggs. Texture gets a bit fudgier but still good. I’ve had mixed results with aquafaba though—sometimes it works, sometimes it’s a flop.
Which GF flour works best? Do I need to add xanthan gum?: I usually use King Arthur, sometimes Bob’s Red Mill; both are good. Most blends have xanthan gum already. Double-check yours—if not, toss in about 1/2 teaspoon. Or don’t stress it if you’re out, loaf will hold together fine for casual snacking.
It cracked a bit on top, is that normal?: Oh, definitely normal! Mine always looks a bit rustic. Adds charm, I say. If you cover it towards the end with foil, you might get a smoother top, but honestly who cares?
Where can I get good GF baking tips?: I like the guides at Gluten-Free on a Shoestring and sometimes browse Minimalist Baker for inspiration—some fab time-saving hacks there!

Oh, side note: If you ever use up all your lemons making these and then realize you’re out of milk, chai with lemon loaf is, weirdly, a decent combo. Anyway, try this loaf and let me know how yours turns out—promise I’ll cheer you on from my own slightly sticky, flour-dusted kitchen.

Gluten-Free Lemon Loaf: My Favorite Zesty Tea Treat