Tag Archives: nuts

Do you know The Muffin, Man?

Perfect Muffin,
I’ve been hunting for you. I’ve been dropping serious dime in cafés everywhere to find out where you are. What makes you so dangerously irresistible? I’ve been asking around, and I’ve been tipped off by professionals in your kind of business.  I’m on to you, Muffin. I’m on to you. I finally know what makes you tick. And I’m about to expose you for the greater good of all muffin lovers everywhere. Consider yourself found.
~ Gal Foodie

For years, the perfect muffin has eluded me. I don’t consider myself a prolific baker. I tend to shoot from the hip when I’m in the kitchen, and baking is so, well, safe. But to be able to wake the house up on Sunday morning with the smell of perfectly moist, fresh baked muffins? I’ll risk playing it safe. Sort of.

I have used mixes. I have used recipes from Joy of Cooking, Fannie Farmer, Stonewall Kitchen, the Internet… the list goes on. I had yet to make a muffin that wasn’t flat on top, with the consistency and taste of dry cardboard. And then my friend Jean Kerr gave me a copy of her cookbook Windjammer Cooking: Great Recipes from Maine’s Windjammer Fleet, and after I was done deftly identifying all the schooners I had sailed or worked on in my “former life,” I discovered the recipe on page 82 for Orange-Chocolate Muffins.

I didn’t make them.
But the recipe intrigued me because unlike other recipes, it required very little butter, the liquid was orange juice, not milk, and it had very few other ingredients. It also didn’t have “penalty of death” warnings of over-mixing, although I will tell you that through trial and error, over-mixing muffin batter usually does result in lead-like muffins that are better suited for Tom Brady-style practice throws off my deck.

I decided to use this muffin recipe as my baseline, and  started switching things up, experimenting with different liquids and measures and ingredients. I shared an almost perfect batch of the modified muffin with Jean and the cookbook’s co-author, Spencer Smith, and both gave it a resounding  “Delicious!” But I wasn’t done. It still wasn’t right.

Batches later… Victory was mine. I captured the Perfect Muffin.

Strawberry Banana Peach Muffins

Strawberry Banana Peach Muffins
Makes 5-6 Jumbo Muffins

2 cups Flour
1/2 cup Sugar
1 tbsp Baking Powder
1/2 tsp Salt
2 Eggs, beaten
1/2 – 3/4 cups Peach Juice
3 tbsp Melted Butter
1 tsp Vanilla
1 Very Ripe Banana, mashed
2 cups Sliced Fresh Strawberries
Sugar In The Raw for sprinkled topping

Directions
1. Preheat oven to 400. Lightly grease a jumbo muffin tin – I use jumbo muffin cup liners to make it easier to clean.

2. Combine all dry ingredients in a large bowl, making sure to mix well.

3. In a separate bowl, mix together all wet ingredients, including the banana.

4. Combine all ingredients in the large bowl, add strawberries, and hand mix until just combined. The batter should be wet but not runny. If it seems too dry, add touches of juice until it is mixable. Do not over mix unless you want to practice your football passes later.

5. Fill muffin cups completely to the top. This will result in a nice round top. Sprinkle with raw sugar.

6. Bake for about 30 minutes, or until centers are firm to the touch, and tops are just beginning to brown. I have found that this particular recipe yields about 5 jumbo muffins. Smaller muffin cups can be used, just reduce the cooking time, but still fill cups to the top edge for a full muffin experience.

Variations on a Theme:
I have used 1 cup of fresh chopped cranberries with orange juice – just add a little extra juice to accommodate for the missing moisture the banana would provide – or add a banana! I have also used 2 cups of Maine blueberries. I added them frozen right to the batter. I used milk but preferred using orange juice. Banana nut? Carrot raisin? What’s your poison? The key is making sure the batter has enough liquid, but isn’t runny.

Light, moist, sweet deliciousness is all mine.
Now that the hunt is over, I plan to sleep in next weekend.
~ Gal Foodie

P.S.  There’s still time to enter the Dishin’ Up Love Recipe Contest!

P.S.S – Still need a sweet treat for Valentine’s Day? Check out last year’s blog post For the Love of Cheesecake.

Happy Birthday! Love, New Zealand

What I love about old family recipes is that there is usually a story. Over time, the story inevitably gets diluted. The handwriting gets smudged, the facts get a little flour on them, the names become a mystery. But the story always ends the same. “This is a food I know.” And with time-traveling delight, these are the recipes that keep our traditions strong, and the tale of the person who made it before us, tangible. In my family history book, there is a cake. And you can be sure there is a story.

Marjorie Catley, Melrose, MA 1940

My Grandmother, Marjorie Cattley, 1940

New Zealand is a far away, mythical place for most of us. For my Grandmother, it was home the first few years of her life. While I don’t know the whole story, I know the parts that have helped me understand who I am and where I get my strength and independence. It is the story of Great-Grandmother Lucretia Cattley, who alone, in 1919, packed up her 4 children and a few keepsakes, and crossed a giant sea from New Plymouth, New Zealand, to a small town called Melrose, in the State of Massachusetts. Without a husband to speak for her, she convinced a local bank to lend her enough money to buy a house. With a meager income from odd jobs, she made payments of 50 cents a week to the man at the bank, and alone, she paid for that house, and in it, she raised her 3 daughters, Amy, Eleanor, and Marjorie and her son, Henry.

I love that story.

Surviving the adventure across the sea is a recipe for New Zealand Birthday Cake. My Grandmother’s handwriting on an otherwise neatly typed card in her recipe box states that this is her Grandmother’s recipe. How many women in my family wrote that recipe down, or recited it in a kitchen far away to be made on someone’s special day? That’s a lot of years in one cake pan. At least five generations of my family, and nary a birthday has been celebrated without it.

Birthday Cake

Happy Birthday to us! November 27th, 2004

My beloved Grandmother is gone now, but for 32 years she and I shared a birthday. Every year she made the two of us the New Zealand Birthday Cake, and never once, did she forget to tell me where it came from. Everything, including the recipe, had been committed to memory, and the most important task in making the cake was telling the story. Last night, for my father’s 63rd birthday, my sister made the cake and the story was shared again. And all of those women were sitting with us for a slice.

There are no directions on this recipe card, save a scribble from my Grandmother that tells me to cream the first 3 ingredients together, and that 3/4lb of something equals 1 1/2 cups. I have always used my Grandmother’s 9×13” pan. The comment from my Mother is that this is one of the driest cakes she’s ever had the “pleasure” of eating. At the risk of altering the story, I am experimenting with cooking times – thinking that if I increase the temperature and significantly reduce the time in the oven, it may not be so “pleasurably” dry. No matter what, this story always ends with gobs of plain white frosting and homemade vanilla ice cream.

Grandma Cattley’s New Zealand Birthday Cake

¾ lb butter or shortening (1 ½ cups)
¾ lb sugar
4 eggs
4 cups sifted flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp lemon juice
1 tsp mace
1 tsp salt
¾ cup milk
1 jar of citron and ½ cup nut meats
Bake at 340 degrees for 1 ½  to 2 hours.

Find your recipes and share their stories.
Happy Birthday, Dad!

Love, Gal Foodie

Brownies for Change

Things are changing in the Gal Foodie kitchen. And actually, the kitchen is literally what is changing. The whole idea of change is bred into us Mainer’s as something to be avoided. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” as they say. Well, things here are “broke” and I’m about to fix it. And wow, has it gotten a little stressful around here.

Us islanders thrive on rumors, and this one is true. We’re moving. It is bittersweet to leave Mount Desert Island, and a lot of tears have already been shed for the lifestyle, place and people I’m about to give up. It has been a challenge living here – a hard life, surrounded by a beauty that can’t be denied. It’s a place that captures your heart… if you can survive the winter, of course.

There’s so much to look forward to where we’re going. Farmer’s Markets, and restaurants, and specialty food shops, fishmongers and grocery stores (!!). Family and friends and the familiarity of a hometown. And at the very least,  a burger and a beer within a reasonable distance! (That’s not even an option here 9 months out of the year!). Ben and I are excited about the change, and overwhelmed by the task of making it happen. So, to help relieve the anxiety, I looked no further this week than to the comfort of a food that hasn’t changed in my life in 36 years. Nana’s Brownies.

brownies

My mother is famous for knowing exactly when a giant pan of these needs to be made. We kids always called it “brownie brainwaves.” We would come home from some crazy adventure, and mom would have the brownies already done and cooling on the counter. How did she know?  I’m pretty sure my Nana had the same talent, and I’m pretty sure this recipe was created to ease the heart and soul in times of change. What better way to take your mind off the moment than falling head over heels into a pan of warm brownies?

Nana’s Brownies
1 1/4 cups Shortening, Melted
12 tbsp Cocoa
1 1/2 cups Flour
1 tsp Baking Powder
3/4 tsp Salt
4 Eggs
2 cups Sugar
2 tsp Vanilla
1 cup chopped walnuts or semi-sweet chocolate chips

1. Melt shortening and add the cocoa mix (I do this right in a glass mixing bowl in the microwave for 30 seconds)

2. In a separate bowl, beat eggs and add sugar and vanilla. Beat until smooth.

3. Add egg mixture to cocoa mixture

4. Add dry ingredients and stir until smooth, adding walnuts or chocolate chips (or both!)

5.  Grease a 9×13 pan and bake at 350 for about 35 minutes. Do not over bake.

6. Sit down, relax, enjoy the moment as you bite into the warm,  gooey yummy that is… Nana’s Brownies.

As my Nana said to my mother, and my mother to me, “This too, shall pass.” And so it will, even if I have to bake brownies every day until I’m in my new kitchen, starting my new life on the mainland.

Pass the milk and the packing tape, please.
~ Gal Foodie