Category Archives: Quickbreads and Muffins

Banana Flaxseed Muffins (why I believe in eating breakfast)

Because breakfast should be wholesome and delicious. Should stick to your ribs without adding inches to your waist. Your morning meal should keep you healthy despite the onslaught of fall colds while also reminding you of your immense value.

You are worth something that tastes good.

And if you don’t do breakfast? Well, I think you should. Because there are so many delicious things about starting your day with a plate of food. If we lived closer, I’d make you something. I’m confident I could convert you.

But if you’re like me, mornings can be hectic. I have a cat. I adopted a dog. And I have a wonderful husband too. The four of us circle around each other, meowing, barking, and hastily dividing a list of domestic chores. Some mornings, I have time for a spinach omelet and a skinny glass of orange juice. But most mornings, I take my breakfast with me. This banana flax seed muffin is perfect for on-the-go.

What makes this muffin ideal for breakfast is the ratio of bananas to sugar. With four bananas, this muffin doesn’t need much (or any) of the granulated stuff. Instead, a drizzle of maple syrup makes these muffins naturally sweet. And who doesn’t like maple syrup? Especially with cooler mornings and the distant promise of snow?

And ground flaxseeds offer a warm nuttiness to this recipe that only becomes more pronounced when you learn how good those tiny seeds are for the body. Hailed as a valuable warrior against heart disease, diabetes, and even breast cancer, flaxseeds need to make their way onto your shelf.

Banana Flaxseed Muffins

1 1/2 cup all-purpose flour

2 cups whole wheat flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon cinnamon

4 very ripe bananas, mashed

1 cup almond or soy or regular milk

1/2 cup vegetable oil (or melted butter)

1/2 cup maple syrup

1/3 cup ground flaxseed meal

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Line a muffin pan with paper liners or grease well.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flours, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon. Set aside. In a large bowl, stir mashed bananas, milk, vegetable oil, maple syrup, and flaxseed meal. Using a rubber spatula, fold wet ingredients into dry ingredients and mix until just combined. Divide into prepared muffin pan. Sprinkle with chopped nuts, if desired.

3. Place muffins in preheated oven and then lower temperature to 350 degrees F. Bake for 18-20 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Allow to cool in pan for five minutes before removing to wire rack. Enjoy!

Monet

Anecdotes and Apple Cores

Carrot Cake Scones

I have a lovely friend who enjoys carrots and hummus. On hot summer days, I share a bag with her. We sit outside of her coffeeshop or on a plush couch with a fan nearby. We dip carrot sticks or chips into a tub of creamy hummus. I just now finished talking to her on the phone. We laughed, while also lamenting the tiny annoyances that make up our lives.

And then I have another friend. One I’ve known since I was thirteen. She has chickens! And she’s about to have her first baby. Ryan and I drove to Dallas to visit her and her husband last weekend. We ate grilled peaches with scoops of bluebell icecream and then we talked about our old friends-where they are and what they do now.

Do you see that beautiful blossom in the first picture? An old friend from college makes those gorgeous blooms. We’ve been chatting about our mutual involvement in the wedding world (her blossoms, my cakes) and I couldn’t have been more impressed by her product. You should visit her. Whether you’re the marrying sort or not.

And then I have this person–my partner–and we find ways to love each other more everyday. I think, at times, I make him crazy. With my insecurities. My weaknesses. And my constant opinions. But he still takes me on hikes and buys me vegan cornbread. He speaks of my beauty with gentleness, and it’s he I sit with, late at night, when I’m most scared of the world.

When we got married, Ryan and I ate carrot cake at our reception. I just got a call from a bride a few hours ago. A bride in need of a wedding cake in less than 48 hours. Bless her tears. And so I’ll make her one tomorrow because I can still taste my own wedding cake if I close my eyes. It was spicy and moist and sweet. And I shared it with the person I most deeply love.

So these carrot cake scones are in honor of friends and lovers. Of brides and new babies. Of carrots and chickens. They are just slightly sweet and packed with shredded carrots and plump raisins. Sprinkled with cinnamon sugar, these carrot cake scones go well with a morning cup of coffee or tea. Enjoy them. Share them.

Carrot Cake Scones

2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 TBSP baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 stick butter, cut into 16 pieces and chilled
1 egg, beaten
1/4 cup milk
1/3 cup raisins
1/3 cup packed and drained shredded carrots*

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees Farenheit. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

2. In a deep bowl, combine flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Add the cut and chilled butter pieces and toss until coated with flour.

3. Using two forks, or a pastry cutter, or your fingers, cut the butter into the flour until the butter is size of very small peas.

4. Mix together the milk and egg. Pour over the flour mixture and stir just slightly. Add carrots and raisins. Stir until the mass holds together. Don’t overmix. Dough will be sticky.

5. Gently pat the dough into an 8 or 10 inch circle on your prepared baking sheet. With a large knife, cut this circle into eight wedges (don’t seperate).

6. Place baking sheet into preheated oven and cook for 10 minutes. Remove from oven and cut through the wedges, separating them by an inch. Return to oven and continue baking until golden brown. Sprinkle with a mixture of cinnamon and sugar once removed from the oven.

*Press and drain carrots as much as possible. Makes for a firmer scone.

Monet

Anecdotes and Apple Cores

Avocado Muffins

I boarded a plane for Colorado last night and sat next to a 19-year-old girl, who held a worn copy of a Flannery O’ Conner short story collection in her lap. She had a blue streak in her hair and wore knee-high leather boots. This was the first time, in many months, that I had traveled without Ryan, and it was oddly comforting to sit next to someone that reminded me of my younger self.

At 19, I fell into a world I was much too young to understand. I think this happens to many of us, but I still felt singular and proud. The universe had trusted me with previously undisclosed secrets, and I reveled in cheap wine, creative friends, and long walks down endless Denver streets. During this time, I decided I wanted to become a writer, or more aptly described: I decided I could no longer ignore the art form that had chosen me.

At 19, I had my heartbroken (don’t we all?) and then fell deeply in love. I lived in a building built in 1904 and met one of my best friends riding on a city bus. The Colorado air was crisp but forgiving. My cheeks always flushed red after a long walk, yet the color suited me, almost as if I had carefully applied a compact blush.

Six, almost seven years later, and I find myself missing those days and the naivete that I’ll never regain–because I did end up losing so much in the years to follow. But I also am proud of where I am now…and I see how I fostered my gifts and dug through the muck that had to be cleared in order to let my true self shine.

Did I bake at 19? I’m sure some of you might ask. And I think I did, but only a little. At that time, I had yet to find this source of simple comfort, and so I coped with life in other ways. And so when I sat next to my friend on the plane yesterday, I wanted to ask her what made her happy and what made her scared. I wanted to help her find ways to push through the darkness we all are asked to confront and offer her hope for the months and years to come.

Of course, I didn’t say much more than hello and where do you live and who are you visiting. But as I she walked off the plane last night, with a violin and a bright paisley suitcase, we both smiled at each other. And I imagined she felt the connection too, and this made me feel a little more alive.

These avocado muffins serve as the perfect base for a hundred different combinations. I can’t wait to add blueberries, or maybe a cup of chopped nuts, or a handful of toasted coconut. These avocado muffins are moist and dense, thanks to two Reed avocados and 1.5 cups of whole milk yogurt. Don’t skimp on your ingredients–use the highest quality flour, sugar, and dairy you can find. Especially if you don’t plan on adding any fruit or nuts or chocolate. I adapted this recipe several times until I found a winning combination. Replacing butter or oil with avocado isn’t as simple as you might think. There is a delicate balance to be found (and isn’t this also true of most things in life?).

Avocado Muffins

3 cups all-purpose flour

1 cup sugar

1 TBSP baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 ripe avocados (about 1/2 cup mashed)

1/4 cup canola oil (or melted and cooled butter)

2 eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1.5 cups whole milk yogurt

1. Preheat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit, and line or grease two muffin pans (this recipe yields around 18 large muffins).

2. In a large bowl, whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

3. In a smaller bowl, stir together mashed avocados, oil, eggs, vanilla extract and whole milk yogurt.

4. Gently fold the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients, remembering that too much mixing will result in a tough muffin.

5. Using a spoon (or the much-preferred ice-cream scoop), divide batter into muffin pan. Bake in preheated oven for 15-20 minutes, or until just lightly golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with only a few moist crumbs.

Monet

Anecdotes and Apple Cores

Banana Bread

Margot and I walk every morning. At half-past six, I put on my running shoes and take her down stairs. For once, our college-neighborhood is quiet and calm. The heat is not oppressive, even though we can feel the promise of a scorching summer day. Across the street, our neighbor’s kitten can often be found frolicking in the tall grass of his yard (I’ve thought about stealing this kitten many times).

And then we walk through Hemp Hill Park, a stretch of green surrounded by beautiful homes in one of Austin’s more historic neighborhoods.

On many mornings, I walk and think (this does, after all, sound like the perfect time for reflection).

But today, I listened to Terry Gross talk to Louis C.K., and unsurprisingly, I was moved by their discussion.

Terry (because we’re on a first-name basis) has a way of drawing people out, of asking them the hard questions without appearing insensitive. Louis C.K. cried during his interview and I found it touching to listen to a man both intelligent and hilarious bear the broken parts of his soul.

He said something that resonated with me deeply. He talked about life, and about our false perceptions of possession. We often say things like “my life…” or “her life…” which separates living into discrete and unique stories. How terrible that this happened to her life… How lucky this happened to his…

And these simple words, pronouns often, push us apart from each other in ways that can be detrimental to both collective and individual happiness.

Louis C.K. and Terry Gross talked about how we, as humans, are all in this together. It’s not my life, or his life. Instead, we are all part of a larger, more mysterious, and wonderful condition.

Now I’m not saying there is no such thing as individuality. That would be foolish and easily refuted. But I am recognizing the importance of human connection. As I saw people mourn the loss of life, as I heard people celebrate new birth, as I listened to my own dreams and to the dreams of others, I realized again and again that we are all in this together.

On Monday, a dear friend and a reader of my blog, brought me this beautiful yellow cake stand. I was touched and honored to receive it…and in that moment I felt the strong pull of our common humanity. We drew closer together in those moments, and the day ended with me feeling a little more alive.

In return, I offered a few humble slices of this banana bread (not the fairest deal, I know). But I hope she realized it was made with love. And I hope she also felt more connection.

So now that I’ve waxed on about life and philosophy, I’ll command you to go make banana bread. Because I’m convinced that food also serves an important purpose in the realm of unity and connection. It is something that we all do, no matter where we come from or what burdens we bear. It is a place where we can share and nurture each other, and it’s why I love doing it, day after day.

And I love banana bread, so you better believe this is a good one.

Banana Bread

2 cups all purpose flour
3/4 cup sugar
3/4 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon cloves
3 bananas (very ripe and mashed well)
6 tablespoons butter (melted and cooled)
2 eggs
1/4 cup sour cream

1. Preheat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease an 8.5 x 4.5 inch loaf pan (or grease 3 mini-loaf pans).

2. In a large bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, salt, and spices. Set aside. In a medium bowl, whisk together bananas, butter, eggs, sugar, and sour cream. Gently fold the banana mixture into the flour mixture with a rubber spatula (do not over-mix). The batter will and should look thick and chunky.

3. Scrape the batter into the prepared pan(s) and smooth the top. If desired, sprinkle chopped nuts or cinnamon and sugar on top.

4. Bake until golden brown and only a few moist crumbs cling to a toothpick inserted in the center (about 50 minutes for a regular pan, about 20 minutes for mini pans). Let the loaf cool in the pan for 10 minutes before turning out onto a wire rack. Allow to cool for 1 hour before serving.