I recently got The September Issue from Netflix–the documentary about Vogue editor-in-chief, Anna Wintour. It was fascinating on many levels but the thing that struck me the most was how unhappy she seemed. We all know how immensely driven and talented she is, but when she spoke of what her other siblings do for a living and what they think of her work, her eyes would gloss over and she’d become distant. When she spoke of her own work at the magazine, Anna mentioned that it often made her angry and agitated–that she’d know when to throw in the towel when she started getting angrier and angrier throughout the day. I don’t know about you, but I may just settle for quiet, small-scale contentment rather than feeling that way day in and day out.
So then I was running yesterday, and I started to think about a quote from the film Alice and Wonderland. In short, Alice hesitates to help the Mad Hatter in his resistance against the Red Queen. The Mad Hatter is disappointed, noting “You used to be much more muchier…you’ve lost your muchness.” I smiled during this scene and continue to think about it. What does this even mean? What is this muchness? A state, a passion, a spark, a sense of wonder or confidence or fearlessness or comfort with the hear and now. I don’t know. Now perhaps the larger question at hand is what does all of this have to do with Vogue and with blackberry cornmeal muffins for breakfast?
I think Anna Wintour was realizing throughout the film that she’d perhaps started to lose her muchness. It was a sad thing to watch onscreen, and I’m sure you’ve all witnessed it with real folks in real life. It looks like a dimming, a deflation, or a constant hesitation. I’ve seen it in nursing homes, with marriages that have gone on far too long, or with students who have resigned to be the dumb kid or the one who will never actually get into college. Now these muffins won’t turn any of those situations around. They’re not quite that good. But they’ll help you maintain just a little chunk of your muchness, I assure you. They’ll give you something to look forward to in the morning whether you’re taking on the work commute, finishing up your taxes, or slugging through a never-ending to-do list. I can’t guarantee a state, a passion, a spark, a sense of wonder or confidence or fearlessness or comfort with the hear and now. But I do hope that you’re experiencing at least one of those things right now or that, at the very least, you’re taking stock of your muchness–of where you are currently and where you want to be. I know that I am.
The great thing about these muffins is that they’re quick. Like fifteen minutes quick. You literally mix the wet and dry ingredients together, throw the muffins in the oven, and have a warm tray of goodness sitting in front of you in no time. The recipe is a huge amalgamation of similar muffins I’ve made since living in Boulder, CO. many years ago. They’ve evolved since then and today I use a mix of whole wheat and white flour, low-fat yogurt, and agave instead of too much sugar. The berries get warm and gooey in the oven, so do plan on having at least one right out of the oven with a little butter. They freeze beautifully as well.
If you plan on using frozen blackberries, just be sure to toss with 1 tablespoon of flour before adding to the batter — this will help prevent them from sinking straight to the bottom of the muffin and staining the batter.
Preheat the oven to 375 F, and grease two muffin pans.
Whisk together the first six ingredients in a large bowl. Stir together the yogurt, oil, agave syrup, vanilla and eggs in a separate bowl. Fold wet ingredients into dry mixture with a rubber spatula or wooden spoon until combined. Gently fold in berries.
Fill muffin cups to the top and bake for 10 minutes. Rotate pans and bake 10-12 minutes longer or until muffins are slightly golden and a toothpick comes out clean when inserted into the center. Cool muffins in pans for 5 minutes before transferring to a cooling rack.
On Monday our little family of three is headed to the airport at 6 am to board our first with-baby cross-country trip. We'll be visiting Sam's family in New Jersey for a few days, then renting a car and driving over to meet up with my family at my mom's lake house in the Adirondacks. Sam's younger sister and her kids have yet to meet Oliver; my grandpa has yet to meet him, and Oliver has yet to take a dunk in a lake, see a firefly, or spend quality time with energetic dogs -- of which there will be three. A lot of firsts. This week my family has been madly texting, volunteering to make certain meals or sweets on assigned days while we're at the cabin and it got me thinking about really simple, effortless summer desserts -- in particular, ones that you can make while staying in a house with an unfamiliar kitchen and unfamiliar equipment and still do a pretty bang-up job. I think fruit crisp is just that thing.
This past week we've had quite a heat wave in Seattle. I've been getting into the bakery early in the mornings so as to avoid the afternoon heat + hot oven combination, and it turns out the upstairs of our new house is quite a little hot box. I bought some aggressive blinds and a new fan and am hoping both will help cool things down a bit. The wool blanket is in the linen closet for the season, and Sam's been making iced tea like it's his job. Summer has arrived! A few nights ago, the thought of actually doing much real cooking seemed a bit overwhelming, so I figured it was time to dig out the ice cream maker and get to work. I'd wanted to do something with the beautiful strawberries we have in the markets right now, but it seems every time I get a little pint it's gone before I have the chance. They are just so incredibly sweet, and it seems a shame to do anything other than eat them right out of the container, preferably while sitting on the Moroccan picnic blanket you brought back from honeymoon on the lawn in your new backyard trying not to stress out about the incredible, insurmountable number of weeds. So. Many. Weeds. But cherries: somehow the bag of cherries made it safely through the weekend, so I set about to find a great cherry ice cream recipe.
When you have an eight month old baby, making social plans can be hard. Especially in the evenings. When I was pregnant, I read Bringing up Bebe and one of the big premises of the book is how the French feel strongly that babies and children can fit into your lives and that you shouldn't have to change and alter everything to accommodate them. I remember reading the book and thinking: YES! Life will be just as it was, except we'll have a small baby in tow. Obviously a few things would likely be different, but I didn't want to change our routines, change the way we cooked or approached time off together, or see our friends any less. Well of course I'm the fool. Or at the very least, I'm not as French as I thought I was. Today, we very much schedule things around Oliver's nap schedule and bedtime, but thankfully we have a lot of other friends with kids who get it. Friends who make homemade cookies, own ice cream businesses, and have really great taste in music. Friends who host the kind of occasion that warrants homemade hot fudge sauce and eating dessert first.
We're back! After a restful few days in Lake George, I ended up flying home while Sam spent a little time with his family in New Jersey and a few days in New York City by himself before taking the train all the way back to Seattle (a solid four day journey). If you know Sam, this isn't surprising; he loves trains. When he's gone, I quickly revert back to my single gal days of eating veggie quesadillas for dinner (over and over) and staying up working later than I'd like. We would talk on the phone often as Sam would narrate his very full days in New York City and the stops and layovers he had while on the train. After a few days of me lamenting the fact that I wasn't there to experience it all with him, he encouraged me to ditch the quesadillas and do something special for dinner. See a movie. Go to the museum for just an hour. In short: I needed to get better at dating myself.
I received The Sprouted Kitchen Bowl + Spoon cookbook in the mail not long before we moved to our new house, and I remember lying in bed and bookmarking pages I was excited to try but also feeling overwhelmed with where to start: the truth is that this summer has been a relatively low-inspiration / low energy time in the kitchen for me. I'd been chalking it up to pregnancy but when I think back and if I'm honest with myself, my cooking style tends to be very easy and produce-driven during these warmer months. I rarely break out complicated recipes, instead relying on fresh tomatoes and corn or zucchini and homemade pesto to guide me. But last night I cracked open Sara's book and pulled out a few peaches I've had sitting on the counter, fearing their season may be nearing its end. This morning as I was making coffee, I sliced up the peaches, toasted the pecans and churned away -- having a bite (or maybe two) before getting it into the freezer to firm up.