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.

Anatomy of a Pea

If you perform an autopsy of a sugar snap pea, this is what you'll find inside. Yes, more peas! I photographed one this afternoon outside in the rain. This incarnation of peas is certainly more pleasing than a plastic bag of loose frozen ones. Yaaawn.

We got a bunch of snap peas in our CSA box yesterday, along with more lettuce and greens, red Swiss chard, strawberries, zucchini, cilantro and two heirloom Cherokee purple tomatoes. I'll take some photographs of those, too. They're amazing-looking: stripey, purple-red and misshapen.

It's all almost too beautiful to eat. Almost.

Back in the Saddle (So to Speak)

For the next few months, don't be surprised if most of my posts will be about food and cooking. Warm weather and fresh produce inspire me every year to get back into the kitchen after months of winter cooking doldrums.

This weekend, I stopped by one of my favorite farm stands to buy more strawberries for Benjamin, who is OBSESSED. Smart kid. I could eat strawberries right now like it's my job.

'Tis also the season for asparagus, and the market had some real beauties. I picked some up not really knowing what I'd do with them.

There's been some difficult stuff going on in my family during the past few weeks, and cooking provides a little bit of a respite. I feel guilty sometimes about doing mundane things (and then writing about them), but if I don't, I think I might go crazy. I try to remind myself that life is a series of Big Things and Little Things, and that it's not real life without both. Doing or thinking about one doesn't take away from the other. And so I cook, I take care of my son, I clean my house, I listen to music, I drink too much coffee, I shop more than I should, I write, I don't get enough sleep, and I worry about my family all at the same time. (Well, not all at the same time, but you get my drift.)

I came across a recipe for a frittata with asparagus and tomato in one of Giada De Laurentiis' cookbooks a little while ago, and I had all of the ingredients, so I gave it a whirl. Frittatas are awesome. They're basically thick omelets that you don't flip or disturb in any way, or quiches without crusts. You can put anything in a frittata.

It was easy: eggs, cream, butter, olive oil, salt, pepper, asparagus, tomato and provolone cheese. (The recipe called for fontina, but I didn't have that, so provolone it was.) You whisk together eggs, a bit of cream, salt and pepper, and then you cook the asparagus and tomato in the butter and olive oil. Pour the egg mixture on top of the veggies, add the cheese, and cook for a few minutes until the bottom is set but the top is still runny.

Pop the skillet (it needs to be ovenproof; I used our cast-iron one) under the broiler for a few minutes until it's cooked and the top is golden-brown. Pull it out, let it cool for a couple minutes (I used the time to whip up a quick salad of local lettuces and spinach), flip the frittata onto a plate, and slice it up. Perfect, easy, delicious dinner.

 

Taking the Cake

Benjamin devoured a chunk of cake at his party yesterday (surprise, surprise, Mr. 73rd Percentile for Weight).

And our living room now looks like Toys 'R Us, thanks to our very generous friends and family.

Next project? Converting part of the lower level of the house into a playroom.

Quiet Time

I managed to capture a moment of quiet in our house in which Benjamin was actually content to sit on my lap for more than one second. This photograph was taken on Wednesday, his first birthday.

How did my little baby get to be so big so fast? Every day he walks more, he talks more, he discovers new things. He doesn't quite have that baby smell in his hair anymore, and he's looking and acting more and more boy and less and less baby.

Sometimes I long for those early days of the sleepy, snuggly newborn—but then I return to my senses and remind myself how much I enjoy getting a (mostly) full night's sleep and not having to feed him every hour or two.