ROSEMARY, FIG & LEMON POLENTA CAKE (DAIRY FREE).

Readjusting to home is strange. In Italy, I walked. I walked miles and miles every day—without even realizing, I’d find myself clocking 11 or 12 miles on my daily explorations, rapt as I was by every corner, every cobblestone, every leaf and church and cliffside. As I’ve lamented before, LA is not a walking city. It’s a city bound by the grid of streets and the crush of vehicles rushing to get to meetings and the grind of folks hustling to live out their dreams before they die. It’s a strange place to come home to after one has finally, briefly, settled into deep relaxation.

On one such walk, from the tip top of the tiny town of Positano on the Amalfi Coast, I descended a set of staircases from the Chiesa Nuova (the “new church”, which is not at all new, as my Airbnb host pointed out) down to the spiaggia grande (the main beach). The steps took me by one fragrant plant and tree after the next: Lavender and jasmine to olive and rose geranium, citrus blossom and rosemary to lemon and fig.

Each time I swooped past the rose geranium bush, I’d take a little leaf and crush it between my fingers, allowing its aromatic oils to escape: the smell of my mother, of the aromatic plants she lived by as an aromatherapist, of rejuvenation. I’d slip the crushed leaf into my pocket and keep step-stepping down the stairs, a glimmering sea beckoning ahead.

Closer to the water, at a small landing in the steps, I noticed some dark splotches on the ground, purplish circles mottled by seeds. Figs! Looking up, I saw what I’d hoped was true: There was a fig tree overhead, and even though its fruit was just out of reach, its simple existence filled me with joy. I was on a path cutting through a stunningly beautiful Italian hillside freckled with Sicilian lemons and figs and rose geranium. The sea was waiting just below. Life was simple, and clean, and smelled very, very good.

Back here in LA, I have no beckoning sea awaiting my arrival. Or, I guess I do—it’s just at the end of an hour and a half of hot, sweaty traffic on the 101. Sweaty traffic aside, there was one thing that I was excited to return to: my kitchen. My tiny, clanging, entirely unpristine kitchen.

On the Uber ride home, I texted a friend: I want tofu. I wanted tofu and millet and spirulina and all of the weird hippie foods I forewent for two weeks in Italy. (Except, to be fair, I brought spirulina green powder with me. Can’t live without the stuff.) I wanted food that I couldn’t get in Italy. And I wanted a break from all the dairy I was consuming (pasta and pizza and gelato, oh my!).

Enter: This dairy-free, dense cake, bright with lemon, fragrant with rosemary and lemon rind, and rich with olive oil and vegan Earth Balance Buttery Sticks. Though the cake isn’t entirely vegan, the lightness of Earth Balance makes a difference. Plus it makes me nostalgic for my days as a vegan.

For three years, I lived under the thrall of a buttery vegan Earth Balance overlord: The spread was the solution to all my vegan woes. Friends would spread thick slabs of it across toast. I made cookies with it. We were enchanted by the power of the EB.

Today, though dairy is a very real part of my diet, I always enjoy veering plant-based, or, as the lovely folks at Earth Balance refer to it, Plant Made.

For me, going Plant Made is the best way to rebalance my body upon return from travel, or after any period of eating that feels skewed towards saturated fats. But, as I experienced first-hand at a dinner Earth Balance hosted last month here in LA, going Plant Made has no correlation to lacking in richness or flavor. This lovely cake proves it in spades.

Enjoy it—the flavors of my walks in Positano come alive in snack cake form. Perfect for any and every time of day, and a cinch to throw together.