Advice, and Double Dark Chocolate Beet Muffins

Yesterday, my friend Kathy hosted her monthly Time Warp Tuesday blog hop.  I missed the hop, but I loved the theme for this month, which was Advice.


I tend to give a lot of advice, I suspect, not even under the guise of opinion; I probably offer it up as fact.  Though I was trained in advising, and when I'm working with students I'm careful not to give advice so much as facilitate their own inner dialogue, there are plenty of times outside of my professional duties when I offer up my own ideas about someone else's dilemmas.

I ask for advice a lot, too, but I don't take advice very well; more often than not I am--even subconsciously--looking for verification of an opinion I've already arrived at, and would like confirmation of my choice.

But the tables were turned on me a bit this week, on Sunday, when I was sitting with my son for a while before he went to sleep.

"I'm nervous about my first day," I confided.

"It's OK, Mom," he told me, "I was nervous about my first day of school, too."

"You were?" I asked, both amused and genuinely surprised.  "But you looked so confident when you waved good bye to me on the bus.  What were you most nervous about?  Meeting new people?  Having someone ask you something you didn't know the answer to?"

"Yes, not knowing the answer," he agreed. 

"Well, that's what I'm most afraid of," I said.  "That I won't know the things they want me to know."

"Well," he said, thoughtfully, "just remember, that if they ask you something you don't know, it's OK to tell them you don't know, and then ask them questions, so they can help you out."

Wow, I thought. Pretty fabulous advice for a six year old.  Better, even, than "eat your vegetables so you can grow up big and strong."

I followed his advice, and told my new boss what he'd told me that night.  "How old did you say he was?" she asked.

"Six," I said.

"He is wise beyond his years," she marveled.

Yes, I agreed.  Except when he really does act like a six year old, and thinks that poop jokes are the funniest thing ever.  And I couldn't be more grateful for both elements.
 

Double Dark Chocolate Beet Muffins

Eat your vegetables and grow up big and strong.  I made these with our CSA share to take to the Cape for the week we spent before my first day, and I told everyone right up front that they were made with beets.  That didn't seem to matter, and they were gone in less than two days.

1 c. beet puree (use about 3 good-sized beets; see below)
1 c. whole wheat flour
1 c. all-purpose flour
2 t. baking powder
1 t. baking soda
1/2 t. salt

1/4 c. ground flax seed
1/2 c. Ghirardelli bittersweet chocolate chips
1/4 c. butter

2/3 c. Ghirardelli bittersweet chocolate chips
3/4 c. packed brown sugar
2 eggs, lightly beaten
2/3 c. buttermilk
1 t. vanilla extract

1 T. espresso powder

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Wrap beets in foil. Place on a baking sheet; bake until beets are slightly soft to the touch, 45 minutes to 1 hour depending on their size. Cool beets in packets, then rub off skins under cold running water (use a paring knife for tough spots).  Puree one at a time until you get 1 c. (you can set aside the unpureed parts, if there are any, for a salad).  Cool completely.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.  Line a 12-cup muffin tin; set aside.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flours, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and flax until well combined.  Stir in the half cup chocolate chips; set aside.

In a small saucepan, melt the other 2/3 cup chocolate chips and butter over very low heat.  Stir to combine and set aside to cool until lukewarm.

In a medium bowl, whisk together eggs, brown sugar, beet puree, buttermilk, vanilla and melted chocolate.  Pour the chocolate mixture into the dry ingredients and stir with a wooden spoon until just combined. Don’t overmix. Immediately spoon batter into prepared muffin cups.  The batter will almost completely fill the cups.

Place muffin pan in a preheated 375 oven and bake for 18-20 minutes. Muffins are done when they spring back when touched lightly in the center (or when a toothpick inserted in the center of a muffin comes out clean). Cool muffins for 10 minutes in pan then remove them to a wire rack to cool completely.

Perfect Moment Monday: Simple Birthdays and Strawberry Muffins

Perfect Moment Monday is a monthly blog hop/writing prompt, sponsored by Lavender Luz at Write Mind Open Heart, about noticing a perfect moment rather than creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between. On the last Monday of each month we engage in mindfulness about something that is right with our world. Everyone is welcome to join.

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When my son was old enough to start attending birthday parties, I was a little bit appalled at the kinds of birthday parties being thrown for the preschool and kindergarten aged set.  I felt lucky when he didn't complain about a party-in-the-park that turned into a big-playdate-at-our-house due to rain one year, and when he asked, at age four, for an "adults-only" celebration.  Last year, we celebrated more traditionally with a space-themed party at our house, but, type A person that I am, I spent months planning and preparing.

When we asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday this year, he told us that he only wanted one person at his party: a little girl who has been his friend and constant companion since he was a toddler.

We love A.  She has the impish grin of an elf, but the seriousness and thoughtfulness of a much older child.  She insists on wearing dresses, but also on climbing trees.  They met when my son went to Montessori school, in the Toddler House, where they spent hours together, since both sets of parents were working full time.  When they moved up to the Primary level, they went to separate classrooms, and were thrilled when those classrooms had to be combined due to some downsizing at the school.  The teachers joked that they were inseparable.  I. and A. talked about getting married, about buying a house at the beach, about how many cars and campers and tractor trailers they were going to have.  It was sweet.  And yet, maybe a little too sweet?

I wouldn't say that we tried to dissuade him from his "party for two," but we gave him every opportunity to renege on the decision. I worried about what her parents would think.  What about your other friends? we asked several times over the next month.  What about the boys?  Every time, he shook his head.  No, he'd say, firmly, I just want to have A. over.  Finally, he became annoyed, and said, in that unmistakeable teenager-y voice, "Mom, haven't you been listening to me?"

Well, I had.  But I hadn't.

I.'s birthday would be early in his first year in a new school, in a class full of people he didn't know.  Of course he wouldn't feel comfortable inviting any of those new people to a party.  And maybe he felt like he just wanted something quiet, and familiar: the companionship of a friend whom he hadn't seen since camp ended, and whom he wouldn't see again for many months.

We agreed, and I offered to take them out to tea, at a local place that does high tea the English way, with small sandwiches, scones, and small desserts.  I'd taken I. before, just the two of us, and he enjoyed the attention, the multiple courses, and feeling grown up; he swilled decaf fruit tea like a pro.  He set about designing an invitation immediately, which I didn't even get to see before he sealed it up and sent it off.  (I still don't know what it said, though A.'s parents assure us that it was entirely appropriate.)

I.'s birthday was a perfect fall day: warm but not hot, breezy without the chill.  A. arrived at mid-day, dressed in blue flowers, and I chauffered them both downtown in the MegaWagon.  We ordered one prince and one princess tea, and they chatted and giggled over banana-nutella sandwiches and strawberries and scones while I tried to eat my salad as inconspicuously as possible.  The staff came out with a candle-adorned cupcake in the middle of generous plates of desserts, and sang happy birthday, as I. beamed, and his companion looked on, grinning broadly.

When tea was over, they went browsing at the adjacent shop that sells all things porcelain, and conspiratorially ran ahead of me back to the wagon.  It was hard going on the way back, since I'd drunk an entire pot of tea by myself, and I made the usual adult groaning noises, which they thought were extremely funny.  Finally, about three quarters of the way back, they decided to pull the wagon together up the hill to our house.

And as I walked behind them, feeling the warm autumn sun on my face, I thought about the beauty of uncomplicated friendships, of the completeness of children's love, and felt grateful both that I. has a friend like A., and that he recognizes what a gem she is.  I felt glad that he didn't feel the need to have a big party in order to feel celebrated, and lucky to have a little boy who has already figured out what's really important.  At one point, I was struck by how perfect it was, watching them walk together, and I snapped this picture with my camera phone,  I hoped that they would always remember that first friendship, and remember how it's easier to pull a really large wagon when you're both holding on to the handle, bodies close together, talking, laughing, wondering about the world, and not paying attention to how heavy it is.

It's a lesson we would all do well to learn.

Happy birthday, I.  May they all be as perfect as this moment.


Strawberry Muffins
These healthy muffins are perfect for a lunchbox, a snack container, or children's tea.  Or maybe for you, to share with a friend.

1 c. regular flour
1 c. whole wheat flour
6 T. unrefined sugar or 1/4 c. agave nectar
1/2 t. salt
3 T. baking powder
1 egg or 1 flax egg (1 T. flaxseed + 3 T. water, mixed and let stand)
1 c. milk of your choice (or 3/4 c. + 2 T. milk of your choice if using agave)
3 T. grapeseed oil (melted coconut or canola will also work)
1 c. frozen strawberries, chopped into blueberry-sized chunks

Mix together dry ingredients in a large bowl.  Separately mix together wet ingredients.  Make a well in the dry ingredients and add the wet ingredients.  Stir with a wooden spoon until just moistened ... do NOT overmix!  Add the strawberries and stir gently until just combined.

Pour into 12 muffin cups and bake 12 minutes at 400 (or 13-14 minutes at 375 if using agave).

A Love Letter: Raspberry Streusel Muffins

Valentine's Day is probably one of those political things that you shouldn't post about if you want to make all of your readers happy.  Because while some people have great relationships, some people are struggling with their significant others, and others have joined in solidarity at the Black Hearts Party.  Then there's the great Valentines Day retail machine: according to the National Retail Federation, the average person celebrating the holiday will shell out $126.03.  Yikes.

I'll admit that we did our little Valentine's Day exchange this morning.  My son got a cookie pop shaped like a heart from me, and a box of Yodels from my husband (there's a longer story there about a Drake's truck on the highway, and curiosity about Yodels, which have never before made an appearance in this house, but I'll leave it at that).  I cut a heart shape into the middle of his avocado and cream cheese sandwich.  I sent him to school with his box of sticker puzzle valentines, and he will come home later, thrilled to show me what he got in return, and as he's pawing through them for the fifth time, we will probably have a discussion about gender norms and why not all girls like princesses and why not all boys like race cars.  We made our own valentines for each other (even for my daughter, who happily ripped hers to shreds), and sent my husband on his week-long business trip this week with an envelope full of handmade cards and a box of conversation hearts, to be opened on Valentines Day.  (I secretly hope that he stashed them in his pocket today and is munching on them surreptitiously during his very serious meetings.)

But as I've been doing all of this, I've been thinking, even more so than usual, that we shouldn't save our hugs and cards and wishes for Valentine's Day.  We should tell people we care about -- not just our significant others, if we have one, or our kids, if we have them, but everyone that we love -- what they mean to us every day.

I am the first one to admit that I'm not very good at this.  I don't make random phone calls to people.  There are several people who are on my list of people to whom I really owe a letter (you lovely ladies who live in Carmel, you know who you are!).  As life has gotten busier, sometimes I even forget to tell my husband I love him when he leaves for work in the morning.  I tell my kids I love them when I kiss them good night, but that's not the same as taking time out of our busy day to do something different, to stop the train barreling down the tracks for a minute.

People aren't around forever.  Friends come and go.  Parents age and die.  Kids grow up and move away.  Colleagues change jobs, get promoted, leave.  Students graduate.  Isn't part of why we're here to leave our beautiful, unique, messy handprints on the hearts of other human beings?  We crave connection with others, and most of us want to feel like we've made a difference in the world.  Why don't we spend more time acknowledging the ways we change each other?

And while we're at it, why don't we spend more time loving and taking care of ourselves with the tenderness and joy we deserve?  Because how can we properly express love for other people if we don't love ourselves?

Back in July, we had a bumper crop of raspberries.  On the advice of friends, I froze a bunch of them and stashed them for use in some undetermined future recipe, to be enjoyed in the middle of winter, when I needed to be reminded of summer days drenched in sunlight.  I finally dug them out this week, when the February weather has taken a turn for the cold and grey, and made these muffins for coffee hour at church.  I wondered what took me so long to use them; after all, we have so many, and more will come in the spring.

Here's my thought for today: do something nice for yourself.  And then tomorrow, when they least expect it, send a love letter to someone who really needs to know what they mean to you.  Maybe, if you're really feeling ambitious, you can make them muffins.

Raspberry Streusel Muffins

Streusel

1/3 c. all purpose flour
1/3 c. whole wheat pastry flour
1/3 c. brown sugar (or date sugar!)
1/8 t. salt
1/4 t. ground ginger
3 T. butter, cold (you can sub Earth Balance if you like)

Muffins

1 c. all purpose flour
1 c. whole wheat pastry flour
1 1/4 t. baking powder
1/4 t. salt
3 T. coconut oil, melted/cooled (or butter)
3/4 c. sugar
1 large egg
3/4 c. buttermilk
1 1/4 t. vanilla
1 1/2 c. frozen raspberries*
Preheat oven to 350F. Line a standard muffin tin with 12 paper liners.

In a small bowl, make the streusel. Stir together all dry ingredients, then cut the butter into small pieces and add to flour mixture. Rub in butter thoroughly until mixture is very fine and sandy. Pick up the streusel mixture and squeeze it in your hand to form small clumps, repeating until streusel appears to have a much coarser texture. Set aside.

In a medium bowl, whisk together flours, baking powder and salt.  In a large bowl, stir together melted oil/butter, sugar and egg until well combined. Stir in half the flour mixture, followed by the buttermilk and vanilla extract. Stir in remaining flour mixture, mixing just until the dry ingredients are incorporated and no streaks of flour remain. Fold in raspberries (toss frozen berries in 2 tsp of flour to keep them from “bleeding” into the muffin batter).

Divide muffin batter evenly into prepared baking cups. Cups will be fairly full. Divide streusel mixture over the muffins (be generous, and don’t worry if some of the streusel doesn’t seem to “stick”)

Bake for 25-30 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of a muffin comes out with only a few moist crumbs attached.

Turn muffins out onto a wire rack to cool completely. Cooled muffins can be stored in an airtight container.

Makes 12 muffins.

*Note: If using fresh berries, you may need to reduce the baking time by 1-2 minutes.

Making More Heroes: Banana Oat Mini Muffins

Today I got one of those calls that every parent dreads.

"Mrs. Half Baked?"


"Yes?"


"This is Miss T., from I's school.  Do you have a minute?  I wanted to talk with you about I.'s behavior lately."

It turns out that I. has been using potty talk in the classroom, and today, no less than four times, called another child names, presumably using said potty language.  At my son's school, they work a lot on teaching respect for others, and though the teachers always try to find out what caused the child to behave inappropriately (treating each child with respect, as well), name-calling to this extent crosses the line.  I.'s teacher was particularly concerned because he's generally been a good kid.  I thanked her for calling, and promised her we'd talk with him.

I have to say a word about the bowl here, which
was made by my neighbor, who even makes
his own clay ... beautiful, no?

We had a long chat with I. about what happened from his perspective, why he has been acting this way (he claims that another child was saying mean things to him first), how he would feel if others treated him this way, and what he might be able to do differently if he finds himself in the same situation again.  It was one of those times when I've felt like I'm having an out-of-body experience, wondering whether I'm actually making any sense to a five year old, and wondering who in the world thought that I might be qualified enough to raise a human being.  It's a complex thing, helping your child learn how to strike a balance between speaking up and walking away from a situation that is just not acceptable, fighting back and deciding not to retaliate, being kind to all others and protecting themselves.  And it's particularly difficult when what you've got to teach the lesson is the five-year-old's version of what transpired.

The other day, after the Costa Concordia disaster, I read an article about heroism that described the general lack of human decency aboard the ship as people tried to evacuate, lauded the noble acts of a few people, and wondered whether it is possible to get more people to behave like the few heroes on that ship did.  One of the researchers mentioned that it's possible to give children the tools to make change and "build up social influence" long before disaster strikes, to help them to feel empowered.  But to me, that's not a recipe for altrusim.  This researcher also found that heroes tend to live in urban areas, be more educated, and volunteer.  Though it's unlikely that we're ever going to move to an urban area, we hope to give our children a good education, and model volunteerism for them so that they feel like it's an important part of their lives, too.

And as I'm having a discussion about name-calling and potty language, I'm thinking about the Costa Concordia, hoping I can instill in my son (and daughter, eventually) enough respect for himself, for his fellow human beings, and for all living things, that even if he doesn't leap in front of a subway to save a stranger (actually, I hope he doesn't do that), at least he won't fight over life jackets, push aside the elderly, or launch a life boat before it's full.  Because those seeds, I suspect, are planted very early.

We sent these muffins to I.'s school last week for snack for his classroom (each family takes a turn at providing snack for the week).  They're packed with all kinds of things that are good for you, and they're not overly sweet (you could even sub in apple juice concentrate for some of the sugar, if you reduce the amount of milk a bit).  Because the littlest heroes need the right kind of fuel to learn the important lessons of kindergarten--the ones that last a lifetime.

What do you think?  Can heroism be taught?  What would you have done aboard to Costa Concordia?  Do you think you'd risk your life to save a stranger?

Banana Oat Mini Muffins

3/4 c. all-purpose flour
3/4 c. whole wheat flour
1 c. rolled or quick oats
1/4 c. sugar
1/4 c. packed light brown sugar
2 t. baking powder
1 t. baking soda
1/2 t. salt
1 egg (or 1 T. flax meal w/ 3 T. water)
3/4 c. milk
1/3 c. applesauce (or canola or coconut oil)
1 t. vanilla extract
1 c. mashed bananas (about 3)

Preheat oven to 400, and prepare two mini muffin pans: line cups with paper liners or spray lightly with oil.

Combine flour, oats, sugar, baking powder, soda, and salt. Beat egg lightly in a large bowl and then stir in milk, applesauce (or oil), and vanilla.  Add mashed bananas and combine thoroughly.  Stir flour mixture into the banana mixture until just combined, making sure not to overmix it.

Divide the batter among cups of mini muffin pan.  Bake for 10 to 12 minutes.

Putting Christmas on Standby: Pumpkin Muffins

I don't know what I was thinking. 

No, actually, I do know what I was thinking.  I was thinking that it was the second rainy day in a row, and I needed to get out of the house with N., and that she needed to have something in her stocking this year (for the sake of appearances for I.), even if it was something small.  I was thinking that it was a weekday in the middle of the afternoon, and that perhaps the stores wouldn't be so crowded.  I was thinking that I had a few gift cards that I needed to spend, and what better way to use them up than on Christmas presents.

I thought wrong.  Forgive me, friends: I went to the mall.

And honestly, after about an hour there, I felt dizzy.  The bright colors, the noise, the crowd, the toys that went "dingalingaling" and the toys that talked ... I couldn't handle it.  I walked with N. back out into the rain and I could hear myself think again; I could breathe again.  I started to wonder what kind of freak I am that I can't go shopping in T.oy.sRu.S any more.

I haven't been to yoga in a few weeks because S. has been traveling.  But one of the last times I went, my yoga teacher talked about restoring vata, the dosha (one of three humours that comprise the body according to ancient Ayurvedic medicine) comprised of wind and space.  When things are swirling around us, and in us, she said, vata can get very off balance. We might experience nervousness, anxiety, irritability, sleeplessness and loss of range of motion: our bodies feel stiff, tight and contracted. And so go our minds, following our bodies.  We practiced re-establishing equilibrium by breathing, imagining the place where the inner and outer air are connected.  We also did partner yoga, which made us all laugh as we played with the asanas, trying to balance each other in a blooming lotus asana, and inevitably toppling over.

Laughing, playing, breathing ... all of these things are supposed to restore equilibrium between the inner and outer air.  And during this time of year, it's essential: our own equilibrium will go a long way towards helping those around us to stay calm.

Standing there in the rain, breathing, I thought to myself: yes, I need to bake cookies and write cards and get some gifts.  But I also need to do the holidays on my own terms, not on someone else's.

These are not Christmas cookies.  They are good for breakfast, when you need something to hold in one hand while you're holding ten things in the other hand, on your way out the door.  They are equally good with a cup of tea, as you're sitting at the window, looking out at the rain.  Which is where I am tonight, in a much saner place.

Buttermilk Pumpkin Muffins

Cooking spray
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup whole-grain pastry flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
3/4 cup packed dark brown sugar
3 tablespoons unsulphered molasses
1/4 cup canola oil
2 large eggs
1 cup canned pumpkin
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3/4 cup lowfat buttermilk
1/4 cup raw, unsalted pumpkin seeds

Directions

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Coat a 12-cup muffin pan with cooking spray.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the all-purpose and whole-wheat flours, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and nutmeg.

In a large bowl, whisk the sugar, molasses, oil and 1 egg until combined. Add the other egg and whisk well. Whisk in the pumpkin and vanilla. Whisk in the flour mixture in 2 batches, alternating with the buttermilk. Whisk just until combined.

Pour the batter into the prepared muffin pan and sprinkle with the pumpkin seeds. Tap the pan on the counter a few times to remove any air bubbles. Bake for 20 minutes or until a wooden pick inserted in center of 1 of the muffins comes out clean.

Let cool on a wire rack for 15 minutes. Run a knife around the muffins to loosen them and unmold. Cool completely on the rack.

Devotions: Chocolate Zucchini Muffins

I've been terrible about posting lately.  It's funny; you'd think that I'd have more time, being a stay at home mom and all.  But life has had a funny way of catching me up in the current, and it's been moving pretty quickly.  I found myself nodding in agreement with Mel's recent posts about not being able to keep up: with Facebook feeds, Twitter feeds, blogging comments ... all of which I tend to put before my own writing.  Probably not ideal if you're aiming for regular writing practice, which was, once upon a time, the original purpose of this blog.

And then there's the job scene.  It turns out that I did, indeed, nail that interview.  I've had a tentative offer, and I'm going to talk with them about numbers tomorrow.  The down side is that the numbers are not good.  It's a grant, and they have a limited budget.  Like, $20K less than I was making limited.  And I'd need to pay for another child in day care (part of the craziness has been the search for, and interviews with, potential in-home day care providers), which makes the numbers look even worse.  And it's a grade lower, though that's a blow to my ego.  On the plus side, they are good people.  And it's an important project.  The question is whether it's the right decision for me.  I'm still not sure ... and am hoping I get some clarity, in a hurry.

In the meantime, one of our best friends was diagnosed with heart failure.  He is only a few years older than I am, and in incredible shape: runs half marathons without sweating, bikes miles and miles without a second thought, swims ... and is the energetic stay at home dad to two truly wonderful kids, aged 2 and 5.  It was such a shock to hear the news, and right now, it's hard to think of anything else.  Though today he's doing better, and his heart is beating on its own, there is still the possibility of a transplant, and even without that, the figuring out of what to do about help with the kids over these next few months.  Though this is going to sound ridiculous, part of me doesn't want to go back to work, so that I can help take care of his kids while he heals.  I've been watching my friends go through this, admiring their calm, level-headed strength, and wondering if I'd be capable of the same if I ever found myself where they are right now.

And in much more mundane news, our CSA continues to teach us to make do with what we're given.  As my son says (or rather, as his teacher taught him), "you get what you get, and you don't get upset."  It's been four weeks straight of not much else besides cucumbers and zucchini (and not even good produce, at that), and I've been trying to keep the menu interesting, with squash soup, zucchini frittata, calabacitas, zucchini crusted pizza, zuccanoes, zucchini pancakes (unlinked recipes coming soon) ... and these chocolate zucchini muffins.  They actually turned out quite well, and I froze them, and then ... well ... defrosted them and ate them.  Because they're, like, healthy.  Right?

In yoga this month, we were practicing Hanumanasana, which is basically a split.  Years ago, when I was taking regular dance classes, I could do splits; now, I am thankful for bolsters and blankets that my teacher surreptitiously places next to us as class is in session.  Hanumanasana teaches us to be completely open, but also to love where we're at instead of cursing ourselves for not getting it "right."  It symbolizes (and actually looks like) a leap of devotion, not necessarily to another, but possibly to ourselves, understanding that knowing deep love and knowing our highest selves is one in the same.  So much of where I am right now is mid-leap.  Perhaps that's the same for all of us?

Chocolate Zucchini Muffins
 
2 eggs
2 cups shredded zucchini
1 3/4 cup flour
1 cup buttermilk
2/3 cup sugar
1/2 cup oil
1/2 cup cocoa
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon cloves
1/4 teaspoon allspice

Preheat oven to 350. Grease and flour or line 12 wells in a muffin tin. Set aside. In a large bowl, mix together the eggs, oil and buttermilk. Add in all of the dry ingredients, including spices. Mix thoroughly. Stir in zucchini. Fill the prepared wells about 3/4 of the way. Bake 30-40 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the center muffin comes out mostly clean.

What's a UU? 7th Principle Muffins: In Which I Get Religion

I'm about to talk about one of the things you're never supposed to talk about in polite conversation.  Hopefully you'll stick around at the table.

I had the occasion, at a party the other day, to mention that I'm Unitarian Universalist (UU).  When I tell people this, they usually look at me like I'm Satan spawn, or at least like I'm a little less credible in the realm of spirituality.

It's sort of funny that I ended up a UU; my husband and I were married by a UU minister, simply because my husband was raised without religion, I was raised Catholic (and had long since left the church because it just wasn't a good fit for me), and we wanted something more than just a civil ceremony, but I never in a million years thought that I'd be a member of a UU fellowship.  I remember sitting in the parking lot of the church where the minister who married us was going to meet us, watching people come out, and thinking "hm, so that's what Unitarians look like.  They're sort of ... weird."  My father, old-world Catholic that he was, almost had a heart attack when we told him what we were doing for our wedding, saying that UU's didn't believe in anything, begging me to reconsider.  Luckily for him, I guess, he didn't live long enough to see me sign the book in our church.  (Though in all seriousness, he probably would be glad that I at least go to a church.)

After a long hiatus from organized religion, when I was pregnant with my son, about five years ago, we started to look for a spiritual home.  It was less that I felt like I needed one, and more that we both wanted a community of somewhat like-minded people to help us raise our child with the kinds of values we espoused.  And though we happened upon this particular community by chance (it was a potluck picnic day when we arrived ... how ironic is that, given what you know about me?), it's really come to fit us.  Our fellowship is full of young families like ours (though there are plenty of older members, too, and single people, and divorcees, and every other kind of family configuration you can imagine), and the people really do live their values: they're people I find myself looking up to, and wanting to be when I grow up.

So what's a UU?  There are seven principles which Unitarian Universalist congregations affirm and promote:

1. The inherent worth and dignity of every person;
2. Justice, equity and compassion in human relations;
3. Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations;
4. A free and responsible search for truth and meaning;
5. The right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large;
6. The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all;
7. Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part (more on this, and muffins, in a minute).

Sources of wisdom include

• Words and deeds of prophetic women and men which challenge us to confront powers and structures of evil with justice, compassion, and love;
• Wisdom from the world's religions which inspires us in our ethical and spiritual life;
• Jewish and Christian teachings which call us to love our neighbors as ourselves;
• Humanist teachings which counsel us to heed the guidance of reason and the results of science, and warn us against idolatries of the mind and spirit;
• Spiritual teachings of earth-centered traditions which celebrate the sacred circle of life and instruct us to live in harmony with the rhythms of nature.

For me, those principles are a no-brainer.  They describe how I want to live my life. And the sources of wisdom are the things I've read all my life, that have shaken my foundations, or made me stop and hold my breath.

And it's funny ... I really do find myself thinking twice about my actions, sometimes, because of the community I belong to, and the way that it's required me to articulate my values.

The other day, I interviewed with an office, back at my previous employer, that seeks to recruit and retain women faculty members in the sciences ... to diversify the field.  I think I nailed the interview, though unfortunately, it would probably mean a drop in both salary and in title, if I were offered the job (not that I'm jumping the gun here). Thing is, I may be offered the opportunity to live my values.  To do something important for a change, besides cater mostly to people who would do just fine without me.  It's not often that such an opportunity falls into our laps, is it?  Do you get to live your values in your line of work?  (SAHMs are definitely included  in that question!)  Should I can this whole return to higher education, and just open a bakery already, or an online mail-order baked goods supply company (K, from Pull Up Your Potty Seat, says I should ... and even sent me a lovely gift toward my startup supplies ... thank you, K!)

These muffins are another way I get to live my values.  They're vegan (so they affirm the 7th principle of recognizing/appreciating the interdependent web of existence, and our role in tending that delicate web), and incredibly delicious.  This recipe is modified from one that was developed by one of our fellowship members; I promised not to reveal his secret, but I think I can share my version with you.

7th Principle Fruit and Nut Muffins

1/2 c. raisins
1 c. dried apricots, chopped
1 c. prunes, chopped
1 c. chopped walnuts, lightly toasted
1 c. chopped almonds, lightly toasted
4 T. flax seed neal mixed in 3/4 c. water, set aside to thicken 2-3 minutes
2/3 c. canola oil
2 t. vanilla
1/4 c. orange juice
2 c. white whole wheat flour
1 c. evaporated cane juice (fair trade, please)
2 t. baking soda
4 t. cinnamon
1/2 t. ginger
1/2 t. salt

Place dried fruit in a small saucepan and add enough water to cover.  Bring to a boil, remove from heat and let sit 15 minutes to plump fruit.  Drain.

Preheat oven to 400.  In a large bowl, blend dry ingredients with a whisk.  In a small bowl, blend flax mixture, oil, vanilla, juice; pour into a well in the middle of the dry ingredients and mix until just blended.  Fold in nuts and fruit.

Line 12 muffin tins with large liners, and fill each cup with a generous helping of batter.  Bake at 400 for 20-25 minutes, until lightly brown and springs back to touch.

Little Indulgences: Banana Chocolate Chip Bread

On Wednesday it was Ian's real birthday.  We went to Sonic (his request), gave him our present (a new bicycle helmet), and lit a candle on a single cupcake (two cakes in a week was one cake too many).  He was thrilled with the whole thing, and I think, felt pretty celebrated.

Our neighbors also gave him a gift, a book with a wind-up train that runs around a cardboard track built into the pages of the book itself.  It was a cute gift.  Ian's still making thank you cards (we do this with all of the gifts he gets ... little does he know what torturers we are), but when he saw one of the neighbors outside, I encouraged him to go say thank you and offer her a hug.  This neighbor is in her mid to late eighties, and still drives around and sweeps the street and has her nose in everyone's business: let's just say she's pretty active for her age.  She means well, but you sort of need to take what she says with a grain of salt (or several), because she has a lot to say; she's the sort of person who will continue her one-sided conversation long after you've turned your back and waved goodbye.

She accepted Ian's hug gratefully, and followed him back to our porch to chat, and suddenly, noticed my belly.

"Are you pregnant?" she asked, staring at my protruding belly.

"Yes, quite," I answered.

"Ohhhhh ... And when should we expect the baby?"

We?  "Late January, early February, we hope," I replied.  (Busybody though she is, she doesn't know about our losses, or my diagnosis of secondary infertility.)

"Oh, that'll be nice.  Are you excited?"  She looked at Ian, then at me.  "He's four?"  she said.  "You know, you shouldn't have waited so long to have another.  Now you'll have to start all over again."

I took a deep breath, looked her straight in the eye, and said, evenly, "well, A., things don't always work out like you might want them to, now, do they."

She chewed her lip a little, thinking.  Then agreed, looking at me, almost surprised at the realization.  "You're right.  I guess you can't really plan that."

On the one hand, she's old.  And she says things without thinking.  On the other hand, this is another instance of how deeply ingrained the expectations are in our culture: expectations of motherhood, childrearing, women's roles.  We've come a long way, baby, but dammit, we still have a long, long way to go.  I wonder, why can't I tell her about our pregnancy loss?  About the frustrating diagnosis of secondary infertility, about being convinced I wasn't being treated for hypothyroidism and that it was messing with all of my hormones?

Keiko has a great post this week about self-nourishment.  She reminds us to take time for ourselves.  To allow ourselves little indulgences that renew us, allow us to keep going when the questions, the doctors' visits, the anxieties of the everyday make us feel like we've been kicked.  When I cook, I try to balance health with a little indulgence, because I cook to feed the body and soul.  This bread is a good example: it's not the healthiest thing in the world, but it's a nice occasional indulgence.  Most recently, I made it for our new friends from northern New England who have taken the plunge and moved to the mid-Atlantic (hi, C!). That time, I put in one less banana, thinking maybe I'd be left with less batter, but I think it made a difference in the moistness, so as strange as it sounds, do go with the five bananas recommended below.

This is my stepmother-in-law's recipe.  She's tweaked it a bunch over the years to make it healthier (my father in law complains bitterly about this), but I think it's just as good as the first time I tasted it.  The one thing you need to remember is to pull out some extra batter and make a muffin or three for yourself ... the down side of packing so many bananas in there is that the center takes a LONG time to cook.  Happy indulgence.

Banana Chocolate Chip Bread

1 c. sugar
1/2 c. butter
2 eggs
1 1/2 c. mashed bananas (~5*)
2 1/2 c. flour (I use half whole wheat pastry flour)
1 t. baking soda
1/2 t. salt
chocolate chips (half a bag, maybe?  or more if you're feeling particularly indulgent)

Preheat oven to 375.  Cream sugar and butter.  Add eggs and beat.  Add bananas and mix well.  Mix dry ingredients in a small bowl and add in two additions, mixing well.  Add chocolate chips and mix well.  Pour into greased and floured loaf pan.  Bake 45 minutes to an hour (I find that sometimes 1 hour 15 minutes is necessary).


* You can freeze bananas that are headed into overripe territory, right in their skins!  They make great banana bread or smoothies later on; all you need to do is run them under some hot water, and they will slip right out of their skins.  Note: while convenient, this is a messy affair, so be prepared.

Banana Walnut Muffins

Here I am, posting from sunny California ... just kidding.  It's my blog, posting all by itself.  I thought perhaps you'd miss me while I'm gone.

We're out of muffins again, which are a good go-to breakfast, both for me and for Ian (I've been trying to eat mostly fruit or yogurt, but sometimes I just want carb).  A few weeks ago a friend mentioned that she makes muffins every Saturday with her boys, and recommended Mark Bittman's recipe.  The wonderful thing about Bittman is that he gives you lots of ideas for tinkering, so that you can end up with something that suits your tastes without risking the potential disaster of a complete baking experiment.  I wanted whole grain, or at least mostly whole grain, and fruit.

I had some bananas in the freezer (for those of you who don't know this, something magical seems to happen to the chemical structure of frozen ripe bananas--skin on--that turns them into pure sugar, and defrosted slightly, they become a breeze to mash or whir into a smoothie ... just run them under warm water to slip them out of their skins), and I like the fact that if I use bananas in a recipe, I don't need to use as much sweetener or oil. 

We came up with these, which have just the right balance of sweetness and whole grain heartiness.  I tossed in some nuts for extra protein, and they were a nice complement to the wheat bran.  I think next time I use this recipe I might also add 1/4 c. or so of Greek yogurt, just to increase the moistness and size of the crumb a little bit.  If you try this, let me know how it works.

Bittman recommends that you serve these warm, and so do I.

Banana Walnut Muffins

3/4 c. all purpose flour1 c. whole wheat flour
1/4 c. wheat bran
1/2 t. salt3 t. baking powder
1/4 c. honey or maple syrup
3 T. light olive oil
1 egg (vegans can use EnerG egg replacer or 1 T. flax seeds ground, mixed with 3 T. water)
1 c. very ripe banana, mashed
1/4 c milk of your choice (rice, soy, etc ... plus more if needed)
1/2 c. walnuts, coarsely chopped

Preheat oven to 375.

Mix together dry ingredients in a large bowl; separately, in a medium bowl, mix together wet ingredients.  Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and pour in the wet ingredients.  Combine the ingredients so that the dry ones are just moistened; the batter should be lumpy and somewhat thick, but you can add a little milk if you need to.

Spoon into muffin cups or a greased/oiled muffin pan and bake 20-30 minutes, until the tops are just beginning to brown and toothpick comes out clean.  Let cool 5 minutes and remove from the pan.

Juxtaposed: Ripe Fruit and the Miscarriage Diaries

Today I had a visitor from New York, a photographer named Megan Joplin working on a project called The Miscarriage Diaries (I hope she doesn't mind me linking to it here, since it's already been posted elsewhere on the internet).  She hopes, through the project, to make miscarriage something more public, something we can talk about out loud, by someday having a gallery show, but also to help women to commemorate their losses.  She lost four pregnancies before having her own son, so it is something she understands all too well.  I found out about her project through a link on a website one day, and emailed her to tell her how much I admired her for doing this important work; somehow, we decided that I would participate, and we'd been trying to find a date to get together ever since.  It was amazing to finally meet her, and she was everything I'd suspected her to be: smart, funny, warm, thoughtful, compassionate.  We spent the morning walking to the farmers' market and talking.  I confessed to her that I am pregnant, and she understood immediately how that felt; how it was both happy but not entirely real, how it might not even really be real until I held a live baby in my hands.  I told her about being in the ob/gyn office, and we wondered together why health professionals don't seem to be trained to talk about pregnancy loss.

She took some pictures of me alone and with Ian (a few even with a Polariod camera) by our barn and our garden, and at the farmer's market.  I held my son, a tomato, and a colander of just-picked raspberries.  It was funny, thinking about myself this way, with the barns in the pictures behind me: how I've become part of the landscape of Hunterdon County, and how growing things and appreciating growing things now defines me, and in some ways defines my relationship to pregnancy, almost chronicles my own journey.  She's clearly a talented photographer; the Polariods were really lovely, I felt completely at ease, and I felt like doing this really meant something.  Like I was bearing witness, and asking the world to bear witness with me.

We made her stay for lunch (I couldn't send her back to Manhattan without feeding her, especially since she made a pilgrimage to Butterlane for me), and threw together a salad with roasted beets that we'd gotten in our CSA box this morning (thank you, Megan, for helping us with our little leafy greens problem).  For dessert, of course, there was fresh raspberry pie.

I've now made three raspberry pies, we've eaten countless berries for breakfasts and snacks and desserts, and given away a few pints, and still the bushes are producing.  I'm no longer picking two quarts per night, but there's enough to do something more with than simply eating.  I'm almost out of muffins for my grab-and-go sort-of-queasy breakfasts, so I made some raspberry muffins that I could freeze (unfortunately, the picture doesn't do them justice like my photographs usually do). Though I didn't force muffins on Megan as she made her way out the door (I'd already given her lettuce and a small container of berries), I hope that her project, too, bears fruit in the way that our bushes have this year: that her photographs are on the minds and lips of many people, long after the growing season is over.

Raspberry Muffins

1 c. all-purpose flour
1 c. whole wheat pastry flour
3 tsp. baking powder 1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. grated lemon zest
1/2 tsp. nutmeg or mace
2 cups fresh raspberries
1/3 c. agave nectar
3/4 cup milk (minus 2 T. or so to account for the agave)
1/3 cup oil
1 tsp. vanilla
1 egg
Top with sugar (optional; I didn't do this)

Heat oven to 375 F. Grease bottoms only of 12 muffins cups or line with paper baking cups. In medium bowl combine flour, baking powder, salt and lemon peel; mix well. Add raspberries - mix gently with a fork. In a small bowl, combine agave nectar, milk, oil, vanilla and egg; blend well. Add to dry ingredients; stir gently just until dry ingredients are moistened.

Fill greased muffins cups 2/3 full.  Sprinkle with a little bit of extra sugar if you're going to do so.  Bake for 15-17 minutes or until light golden brown. Cool 1 minute; remove from muffin cups. Serve warm.

Food On the Go: Whole Wheat Oatmeal-Fruit Muffins

The first time I was pregnant, with Ian, I started to think a lot about nutrition.  Though I'd been a pretty healthy eater before, I found myself seeking out more recipes with whole grains, cutting back on refined sugars, and eliminating caffeine entirely (even chocolate, for which I had an aversion during those nine months).  I was lucky enough to be spared morning sickness entirely that first time, but I struggled to eat breakfast more regularly, which wasn't easy for a woman always on the run.

Little did I know then what being on the run really meant.

Now, as I dash out the door with my decaf latte (thank you, new espresso maker, for making milk drinkable), having made the lunches and breakfasts for the rest of the family and gotten Ian dressed and ready for school, I usually grab some fruit for the road.  (Green smoothies just don't do it for me: I gave them a fair shake, but there's something unpleasant to me about the consistency.)  The past two mornings, though, I've been feeling a little queasy, and my stomach clearly wants carbs.

These muffins are a reliable stand-by in my recipe book: I often make them for people I know are on the go, but they're good for just about anyone.  If you make the fruit juice version (and be careful about the labels on your dried fruits), you can avoid refined sugar entirely, and there's plenty of whole grain. They freeze well, so you can bake up a batch and toss one in the microwave in the morning.  If you do happen to be pregnant, you've got something a bit more substantial than saltines to munch on.

Whole Wheat Oatmeal-Fruit Muffins

1  c. whole wheat flour
3/8 c. white grape juice concentrate (or 1/2 c. white/brown sugar if you prefer)
1/4 c. wheat bran (or 2 T. wheat germ and 2 T. wheat bran)
1 1/2  t. baking soda
1  t. ground cinnamon
1/2  t. salt
1 1/2  c. oats (I used regular, but you could also use quick oats)
1/3  c. chopped pitted dates
1/3  c. golden raisins
1/3  c. dried cranberries
1  c. low-fat buttermilk (minus 1.5 T. ... do this if you're using the grape juice)
1/4  c. canola oil
1  t. vanilla extract
1  large egg, lightly beaten
1/2  c. boiling water
Cooking spray

Lightly spoon flour into a dry measuring cup; level with a knife. Combine flour and next 7 ingredients (through salt) in a large bowl, stirring with a whisk. Stir in oats, dates, raisins, and cranberries. Make a well in center of mixture. Combine buttermilk, oil, vanilla, and egg; add to flour mixture, stirring just until moist. Stir in boiling water. Let batter stand 15 minutes.

Preheat oven to 375°.

Spoon batter into 12 muffin cups coated with cooking spray. Bake at 375° for 20 minutes or until muffins spring back when touched lightly in center. Remove muffins from pans immediately; place on a wire rack.

Living Joyfully: Gluten Free Banana Coconut Muffins

True confessions: I have been buying extra bananas lately, on purpose, so they'll turn into overripe mush in my freezer.  When I'm feeling well-behaved (that is, when I don't have my spoon in the pint of ice cream or chopstick in the jar of peanut butter), I've been whipping up frozen bananas into "banana kreem" for a late night snack, adding instant espresso powder, or coconut, or cocoa, or cinnamon.  But I've also been meaning to send a more successful installment of gluten-free treats to my friend and mentor in California, and I still have most of a bag of coconut flour.  It's a new medium for me, but I'm determined to figure it out.  I happened across these, and they seemed like they'd be healthy but still tasty.

This friend is actually my former boss, though you'd never know it to talk to her.  She and her partner are now retired, and enjoying the ocean breezes of Carmel.  When I was working for her, she taught me lots about managing faculty members and maintaining integrity in a place where currying favor is part of the daily grind; now, she reminds me to live joyfully and with intention.  She is busier in her retirement than she ever was when I worked for her, but she fills her time with things she loves: volunteering at the Monterey Bay aquarium, working in a wild bird store, making necklaces.  Last week she sent me a beautiful piece she'd made with rainbow cane glass and swarovski crystals.  When we last talked, it had been a year since we spoke, but catching up with her was easy.  As I was updating her on what had changed since she'd left, she asked me what my plans were for the next chapter in my life.  I was surprised, since I hadn't said anything during the conversation that would lead her to believe I might be leaving my job.

Maybe she heard an itch in my voice, or maybe it was just idle conversation.  Either way, it was yet another one of those nagging moments, asking me what I will do with my "wild and precious life."  We joked about turning baking and yoga into full time jobs, and she didn't ask about more children, which was nice, given my BFN this week.  She's always been more intuitive than people give her credit for.

Coconut flour, by the way, is actually good right out of the bag.


Banana Coconut Muffins

1 cup organic coconut flour
6 eggs
2 ripe bananas (mashed)
2 Tbsp. melted butter
2 Tbsp. virgin coconut oil
2 Tbsp. milk
3 Tbsp. honey
1 tsp. aluminum free baking powder
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1/8 tsp. Himalayan salt


Preheat oven to 350 F.

Mix coconut flour and baking powder in a small bowl.  In a separate mixing bowl, beat eggs gradually, and then add milk, honey, coconut oil, butter, vanilla and salt. Continue mixing. Then add the coconut flour with baking powder and mashed bananas. Blend well. Line or grease 12 muffin cups with coconut oil. Fill muffin cups with the batter.

Bake for 20 minutes.

Earth Day: Be-Bop-A-Re-Bop Rhubarb Streusel Muffins

Thursday is Earth Day.  I've been thinking a lot about Earth Day this year, partly because there are so many events in our region to commemorate it (we attended one today at Basil Bandwagon, where Ian got to pet an alpaca, check out books from the Bookmobile, make a newspaper pot for a small basil plant, and color a "reduce, reuse, recycle" poster).  But I've also been reflecting on the changes I've tried to make in my life over the past year to live more mindfully and sustainably.  Earth Day empowers us to make better choices; it reminds us that even one person can make a difference.  It's a day that is about life and living (which helps keep things in perspective for me when I feel like dwelling on IF, which I'll probably do in my post tomorrow).

Certainly, I recycle even more than I used to; it's become a compulsion.  We already had among the least amount of garbage on our block, but now I find myself reusing aluminum foil, recycling toilet paper rolls, and packing things in repurposed containers rather than in plastic bags.  I try to choose products that have a smaller environmental impact: less packaging, fewer harmful chemicals.  Most recently, I've started eating a lot less meat, and when I do eat and cook it, trying to make sure that the animals are humanely raised.  And since I do most of the cooking, this means that my family is eating less meat, too, though the boys seem to need ham in their diets, for some inexplicable reason.

This year, I'd like to try to eat more locally.  We eat a lot of bananas, frozen vegetables, and things that are out of season.  Some of this is probably hard to avoid, given that I don't can things in the summer and that I know that frozen vegetables retain more nutrients than the non-local things I might get in the store.  But we could do some of it better, too.  If I ate more locally, maybe I'd avoid eating sugar altogether in favor of honey from one of the terrific apiaries we have nearby in Milford.  Perhaps being a locavore will come even more easily to us once our CSA shares start coming.

One thing I did do right last year was to freeze rhubarb.  We've had a rhubarb plant in the back yard for a few years now, and last year it produced a bumper crop.  I scoured the web for information, and there seemed to be agreement about freezing, as long as you were going to use it in baked goods or sauces where texture wouldn't matter.  I've been using it periodically throughout the winter, and it's been so nice to taste spring and summer when you least expect it.  And whenever I use it, I find myself humming that song about rhubarb pie from A Prairie Home Companion.  It so happens that tonight Steve and I actually got to see a live production of PHC at the NJPAC, and I came home thinking that I really ought to bake.

Tomorrow we have visitors coming from Vermont: a fellow blogger and her family, who happen to be in town.  Though I have no idea whether they'll actually want to eat, or whether they will have eaten already, I wanted to bake something for them, to celebrate their visit.  And it seemed right, it being the week of Earth Day, to return to the bounty from last year's organic garden in my very own back yard.  These are not vegan, as some of my baking is, because the buttery flavor really goes nicely with the cardamom, but you could substitute for the egg and the butter to make the more earth-friendly.  Be-Bop-A-Re-Bop Rhubarb Muffins, it is.  Happy Earth Day!

Rhubarb Cardamom-Streusel Muffins

For the streusel:

6 T. all-purpose flour
3 T. turbinado sugar
1/2 t. cardamom
1/8 t. salt
2 T. cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

For the muffins:

1 1/2 c. diced rhubarb (about 8 ounces)
3/4 c. turbinado sugar 

2/3 c. all-purpose flour

2/3 c. whole wheat pastry flour
1 1/4 t. baking powder
1/2 t. baking soda
1/4 t. salt
1/4 t. ground cardamom

2 T. unsalted butter, melted and cooled

2 T. light olive oil
1 large egg
1 t.vanilla extract
3/4 c. plain nonfat Greek yogurt

For the streusel:
Whisk flour, sugar, cardamom, and salt in a medium bowl until combined. Add butter and combine with your fingers, rubbing the butter into the flour until mostly incorporated but some small pieces remain. (The streusel is ready when it holds together in large clumps when squeezed—it will still be fairly dry.) Refrigerate until ready to use.

For the muffins:

Heat the oven to 375°F and arrange a rack in the middle. Coat a 12-well muffin tin with butter or line it with paper cupcake liners.

Toss rhubarb with 1/4 cup of the sugar in a medium bowl and set aside. Let sit until rhubarb releases some juice, about 5 minutes.

Whisk together flours, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cardamom in a large bowl until evenly combined. Place remaining 1/2 cup sugar, butter, olive oil, egg, vanilla, and yogurt in a separate medium bowl and whisk until smooth. Add wet ingredients to dry and mix just until combined, about 25 to 30 strokes. Stir in rhubarb, about another 10 to 15 strokes. (The mixture will be thick.)

Place a rounded 1/4 cup of batter into each muffin well (the wells will be full) and evenly sprinkle streusel over top (I always end up with extra). Bake until a toothpick comes out clean, about 20 to 25 minutes. Remove to a wire rack and let cool 15 minutes in the pan. Remove from the pan and serve warm or let cool to room temperature.

Baking Frenzy: Gluten-Free Lemon Poppy Muffins, Lemon Cheesecake Cupcakes, Peppermint Patty Cakes

There's been a long dry spell without new recipes in this house, mainly because I've been completely swamped with work responsibilities and various community organization commitments when I come home, not to mention that somehow I still have to get the laundry done and the dishes washed and the bills paid.  I actually cooked a ham shank this weekend, which Steve and Ian will be eating all week long while I eat wraps with raw vegetables tossed in a curried yogurt sauce.  (Steve calls this karmic balance.)

But yoga was amazing on Monday night; there were only four of us, and an assistant (I love being adjusted in class; is that weird?), and I came out feeling like my body was humming.  After my 9 pm conference call, I made gluten-free lemon poppy muffins for the newly-diagnosed-gluten-intolerant partner of my former boss, who is now retired and living happily in Carmel, CA.  I wasn't entirely happy with those, so I won't post the recipe until I beta test some more, but I will extol the virtues of my peppermint patty and lemon cheesecake cupcakes, which I turned out last night.

Today was my students' second-to-last class of the semester; on the last day we do evaluations, and in an effort not to appear as if I'm directly trying to win friends and influence students to say nice things about me on my evals, I figured I'd bake earlier rather than later.

I wanted to do something different, but not too different.  And I wanted to make something that would be "cool" flavored, given that it was going to be ninety degrees (yes, you read that right) in NJ.  Here's what I wound up with.

Lemon Cheesecake Cupcakes


1 c. soymilk
1 t. apple cider vinegar
3/4 c. sugar
1/3 c. canola oil
2 t. vanilla extract

1 1/2 t. lemon extract
1 T. grated lemon zest

1 c. flour (you can use half white whole wheat or whole wheat pastry flour)
2 T. cornstarch
1/2 t. baking soda
3/4 t. baking powder
1/2 t. salt

Preheat oven to 350 and line muffin tins with liners.  Whisk soy milk and vinegar together, and set aside to curdle.  Add the sugar, oil, vanilla and lemon extract to the milk and beat until foamy.


Sift in the flour, cornstarch, baking soda, baking powder, and salt.  Add in lemon zest and beat until no large lumps appear.  Fill liners 3/4 of the way, and bake 18-20 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean.  Cool.


Lemon Cream Cheese Frosting

1/4 c. butter
1/4 c. cream cheese
2 c. powdered sugar
1/2 t. vanilla
1 T. lemon zest

Beat butter and cream cheese well.  Beat in powdered sugar until fluffy.  Add vanilla and lemon zest and beat well.  Pipe onto cooled cupcakes.

Peppermint Patty Cupcakes

1 c. soymilk
1 t. apple cider vinegar
3/4 c. sugar
1/3 c. canola oil
1 1/2 t. vanilla extract
1/2 t. mint extract
1 c. flour (you can use half white whole wheat or whole wheat pastry flour)
1/3 c. good quality cocoa powder
3/4 t. baking soda
1/2 t. baking powder
1/4 t. salt

Preheat oven to 350 and line muffin tins with liners.  Whisk soy milk and vinegar together, and set aside to curdle.  Add the sugar, oil, vanilla and mint to the milk and beat until foamy.

In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder, and salt.  Add in two batches to the wet ingredients and beat until no large lumps appear.  Fill liners 3/4 of the way, and bake 18-20 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean.  Cool.

Mint Frosting
1/4 c. margarine
2 c. powdered sugar
2 T. soymilk
1/2 t. mint extract
Green food coloring

Beat margarine.  Add powdered sugar and soymilk alternately while beating, in three additions.  It should be fluffy; if it's too watery, add more sugar.  Add extract and a drop or two of green food color.  Pipe frosting onto cooled cupcakes.

Chocolate Ganache
1/3 c. semisweet chocolate
2 T. soymilk

Melt together over a double boiler, stirring constantly, or microwave for 30 seconds and stir well.  Allow to cool about 10 minutes.  Drizzle/dollop onto mint frosting.

For Health, Healing, and Hope: Carrot-Ginger Muffins

Pregnancies seem to come in waves around me, and right now, I'm watching a tsunami approach. One of the staff members is due in March, another has a daughter who will give birth in February, one of the women in the working moms group I run is due at the end of January, another is due with twins some time in January, and one of the women in my little wing of the building at work announced that she, too, will join the ranks of motherhood in August.

To hear some women talk about it, getting pregnant and making it through the nine months to delivery is a snap. And for some women, it is. My first pregnancy was very uneventful (until the end, when my son teased us with a potential breech birth and I did all sorts of bizarre things to convince him to turn, not the least amusing of which was lying upside down on an inclined ironing board, playing music and shining lights at the far end of my large belly). I could almost have been convinced that every pregnancy was like that. But even then, I knew better. I had a friend give birth to a stillborn child before we conceived our own, and I knew of another few couples who had lost a pregnancy early on. Now, three years after the birth of my son, I, too, have had my own experiences (unfortunately plural) with loss in pregnancy, and more recently, have become just plain frustrated with my uncooperative (and admittedly, aging) body. Watching the tidal wave fills me with simultaneous hope, and fear, and jealousy.

So I do what I always do when I don't know how else to cope. I bake. Tomorrow I will bring some of these to the newly pregnant young woman at work, who looks green in the morning and shuts her door to try to get some work done. I will tell her that ginger and lemon will help her to fight the queasiness, and reassure her that she'll feel like herself again soon. I will also bring some to our next door neighbors, whose (60 year old) daughter is in the hospital with septic meningitis. Because, as any parent knows, the delicate balance of hope and fear, which, I suspect, is part of what makes us human, does not end with birth.

Here's to life, and to the healing powers of things from the oven, made with love.

Carrot-Lemon-Ginger Muffins (adapted from What to Expect When You're Expecting)

1 cup whole-wheat flour
¼ cup ground flaxseed or wheat germ
¼ cup rolled oats
2 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp baking soda
¾ cup chopped pecans
¾ cup agave nectar or white grape juice concentrate
2 large eggs, lightly beaten or 1/2 cup soy yogurt
¼ cup light olive oil
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 tsp minced peeled fresh ginger
2 tsp minced lemon zest
1 cup grated carrot

1. Preheat the oven to 375F. Line a standard-size muffin tin with paper liners.
2. In large bowl, combine the whole-wheat flour, flaxseed, oats, ground ginger, and baking soda. Stir in nuts.
3. In medium bowl, combine juice concentrate, eggs, oil, vanilla, fresh ginger, and lemon zest. Whisk to blend. Add the juice mixture to the flour mixture, and stir gently just until the batter is smooth and well blended; do not overmix.
4. Gently fold in carrots. Spoon batter evenly into prepared muffin tin. Bake about 20 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.
5. Transfer to a wire rack and let cool 10 minutes. Remove muffins from tin; let cool completely. Muffins can be stored in an airtight container for 3 days or individually wrapped in plastic wrap (and then in an airtight container or freezer bag) and frozen for a month.