Smitten Food: Butter Fail

I have not been very good about blogging. Part of it is that this month has been the busiest 30 days for me in recent memory, and part of it is that I'm going through a self-conscious phase about writing in public. Ultimately, I want all of my writing to be public — it's what I do, after all. But I'm a weird sort of writer in that if I think too long and hard about the fact that people read what I write, I get all cringey and feel sort of icky. Eh. It will pass.

A BIG freelance job has been taking up a good deal of my time, which I still feel like I need to be tight-lipped about. Part of it is that my contract stipulates that I can't reveal much information about the story before it goes to print, but part of it is that I don't want to jinx it. I just turned in a major revision of my original draft this morning, and I haven't heard from my editor yet about what she thought of it. I will say that it is the biggest opportunity of my writing life thus far, that the experience has been both exhilarating and exhausting, and that if all goes as planned, you will all need to set aside a spare five bucks at the end of February to purchase a certain women's magazine whose name rhymes with Debtor Gnomes & Pardons. That is all.

And then there is parenting and teaching. And Thanksgiving was last week. And Christmas is coming.

Of course every family has its own holiday traditions. We used to have Thanksgiving ones, but not so much anymore, save the requisite menu of turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and so on. One of my mom's sisters makes a broccoli casserole that is to die for, made even more delightful because it's everyone's favorite, has about four ingredients, and is the most labor-intensive cooking she does all year. Actually, what makes it delightful is the handfuls of shredded cheddar cheese in it and the layer of croutons on top.

My contribution was a sweet-potato dish and a dessert. I was going to bake a pie, but then I found a recipe for lemon-filled gingerbread cookies in an issue of Oprah's magazine (I never read it, but I got sucked in to her Favorite Things list), so I made those. They were delicious, but a dish isn't a dish unless I mess it up somehow. Like, oh say, by putting SIX EXTRA TABLESPOONS OF BUTTER into it.

Yes. Six. Tablespoons.

My scatterbrained self read the recipe entirely and measured everything properly, but when it came time to actually put the instructions into action, I went ahead and dumped all 18 tablespoons of butter into the bowl, instead of reserving six of them for the frosting like I was supposed to.

I mean, really. Cookies? I messed up cookies? I try to be all together about stuff like a normal grown-up, but no. I am apparently still suffering from pregnancy brain. I'm surprised I managed to even put them in the oven.

The cookies were actually pretty good, albeit a bit too Paula Deen for my Yankee sensibilities. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually think they will be better with less butter. And I looove me some butter. I will be making them again — correctly this time —  very soon, if only to prove to myself that I'm not a total flake.

Naturally, I served them anyway and told no one of my error (until now), except my husband, who graciously kept quiet and smirked right along with me when our family chowed down on them and proclaimed how good they were. Maybe they were just being polite, or maybe they were entranced by all the saturated fat. Hard to say. The cookies were definitely tasty, but every time I bit into one, I had of vision of myself pulling the cookies apart and just applying them directly to my ass. I mean, it's where they're going to go anyway, so why not cut out that pesky digestion step?

And naturally I took a picture. You'll notice they're all wonky around the edges. That's because when you make cookies with six extra tablespoons of butter, friends, they spread out all over the place and you have to then cut them apart with a spatula. Next time, I'm going to do a before and after pic. I wonder what I'll forget then. Sugar? Flour? Oh, the possibilities ...

 

Smitten Food: Pumpkin Muffins

At this time of year, pumpkin muffins are pretty ubiquitous. I don't care. I love pumpkin anything. They're very basic, as baked goods go, but that's part of their charm. Muffins, in my opinion, should not be complicated or even remotely hard to make. I mean, they're muffins, for Pete's sake.

More important than my own fondness for pumpkin anything is the fact that I have a toddler who loves pumpkin anything — even saying it ("pukkin"). My little man has gotten increasingly hard to please, food-wise, as of late. All trace of my previous smugness about how he'd eat anything is officially gone.

I don't know if the pickiness is related more to his having a sinus infection, his newfound love of the word "no," or just because he'll be 18 months old on Friday and that's how things operate these days. He ate like a champ when he stayed with my parents yesterday (of course he did), but he's had basically nothing for dinner last night or breakfast this morning. So during his nap this morning, I cracked open a can of pumpkin and got busy.

Could they be any cuter?

I realize that pumpkin muffins are still muffins and aren't the absolute healthiest of choices, but pumpkin itself is actually full of antioxidants and beta-carotene. That has to be better than saltine crackers, which is about all Benjamin is interested in eating.

This recipe came from one of my most favorite food websites, Smitten Kitchen, which is not in any way (unfortunately) related to this site. SK adapted the recipe from a recipe that Gourmet magazine adapted from somewhere else. (Follow the link above to the recipe on SK.)

What I love? First, you need exactly two bowls and a couple of measuring cups and spoons to make it, so you're not going to trash your kitchen in the process. Second, they are normal-sized muffins — not gigantic dough orbs like you see nowadays in lots of bakeries and coffee shops. Next, they've got just the right balance of spice and sweetness to them. I like a bit more spice and a bit less sweetness, and these are just right.

And, yes, that is indeed a sprinkling of cinnamon and sugar on the top.

The recipe says to bake them for 25 to 30 minutes, but mine were perfect at exactly 25 minutes. Also, be sure to follow the tip about whisking the ingredients together just until everything is combined. The resulting muffin will be light, airy and tasty — everything that any self-respecting muffin strives to be.