Frankie Fights Food

Me: “I can’t find a recipe that looks good.”
Brett: “Well, we can just get a box of mix.”
Me: … *glare* “‘A box’, he says? Did you forget who you were talking to?”
Brett: “Yes. Yes, I did.”

Sure, box mixes can be great if you’re in a rush/don’t care to make things from scratch/aren’t obsessed with being able to still make a barter-able muffin in a post-apocalyptic world where all the grocery stores have long been raided… but I am just not a “box mix” kind of girl. I think it drives my mother crazy. She was always that epitome of the busy home chef: the housewife trying to manage three kids, the house, all of our extra-curricular activities, and became the queen of the 30 minute meal. (Sorry, Rachel Ray. You’ve got nothing on my mom.) I have, thanks to her, countless quick side dishes, innumerable recipes that require a can of cream of mushroom soup, and cupcake decorating tips to disguise anything store-bought.

It isn’t just in order to prepare for the apocalypse either. I just don’t ever feel guilty eating something I’ve made from scratch. I don’t care about calories, fat content, or carbs. Not to say I’m one of those horrible people blessed with a naturally fast metabolism – trust me, I’m not – I just think it’s more prudent to watch your chemicals. Living in France I ate mountains more butter, real fatty butter, and bakery breads all the time. But everything I ate was fresh: freshly grown, picked, cooked and eaten. In 6 months I lost nearly 20 lbs. I think Brett said it best one day: “Preservatives don’t just preserve food. They also preserve the fat in your body.”

So I am a guilty-free eater when it’s fresh out of the oven, when my arms are sore from blending butter and sugar by hand. Everything I make might not look like it belongs in a magazine, and sometimes my batter is a bit lumpy, but this is how we did it for centuries, before there were food processors and electric mixers. Just a girl and a wooden spoon. I love it. Mind you, I’m not against appliances, but my super-poor, going-back-to-college menu will not consist of ramen this time around. Good cuisine has suddenly become worth it to me.

These little muffins are no exception. While Deb’s muffins at Smitten Kitchen were adorable little things with the berries posing on top of a sea of mini-muffins, my batter ate my blackberries completely the first time around. This second batch had a little more success with the application of more berries, but quite a few still got swallowed by the muffin and created these little pockets of warm, juicy berry love through a moist mess of lemon.

In the end, I ate about three. Brett put away half a dozen. I don’t think he’ll be bringing up box mixes again any time soon… largely because he’s currently in a muffin-induced coma-nap right now.

Blackberry & Lemon Muffins
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen’s Raspberry-topped Lemon Muffins

1 1/8 cups sugar, divided
4 teaspoons finely grated lemon peel (from three lemons)
2 cups all purpose flour
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 large egg
1 cup buttermilk
1 teaspoons vanilla extract

1 heaping cup of blackberries (approx.)

Preheat oven to 375°F. Line your muffin tray with liners. This recipe will make about 14 big muffins (of 56 mini-muffins, according to Deb). Mix the lemon peel and sugar in a small bowl until the sugar is moist. Whisk flour, baking powder, and salt in another bowl. In a third bowl (sorry, guys, this is a messy dishes recipe), mash sugar and butter together until it makes a smooth paste. You can use an electric mixer for this, or go old school with a wooden spoon and get a bit of an upper arm workout. Add the egg to the sugar & butter mixture… then the buttermilk, vanilla & lemon sugar. Finally, beat in the flour mixture.

Divide batter among muffin cups, making sure to not overfill. I would recommend a 2/3 full muffin cup. Top each large muffin with 3-4 raspberries. Bake muffins until lightly browned on top and tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 30-35 minutes.

For tips on the mini-muffins, head to Smitten Kitchen for Deb’s advice.