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

Lemon Blueberry Bars

I’m in the mood for a garden party. An afternoon spent stretching in the sun. Like a housecat no longer content to hide under the bed, I want those warm summer rays. These lemon blueberry bars and a tall glass of hibiscus tea will join me outside, where I’ll read, or maybe write, or maybe just lounge until I drift to sleep.

Oh wait. I almost forgot. I live in Austin..and we’re about to hit August. And just in case you didn’t know, this city doesn’t understand warm.

We’re hot, baby, and it’s going to be a good two or three months before my garden party dreams can come into fruition.

But if you live somewhere like Vacactionland (aka Maine) you’re in luck. On our most recent trip, Ryan and I stumbled upon this potting shed, sitting serenely amidst a thick forest of pines.

In Maine, summer days melt sweetly into summer nights. You can easily sit in a lawn recliner (this hand woven chair from Hayes Garden World is my favorite) while your special someone presides over the charcoal grill. Bacon-wrapped scallops, perhaps? Or thinly sliced summer squash sprinkled with olive oil? Sounds just about perfect, huh?

Especially when your backyard is blooming with the fullest hydrangeas you’ve ever seen. And after you’ve enjoyed your meal, you can have a lemon blueberry bar with a glass of champagne. I promise, they’ll make a good afternoon, great.

These lemon blueberry bars are heavenly. A thick shortbread crust paired with a vibrant and tangy filling makes these bars the perfect antidote to a warm summer day. And when you’re spreading the lemon custard over the warm crust, throw in a few blueberries. Not only do they look lovely against the yellow, but a burst of berry juice when you take your first bite is always good.

Hopefully, some of you live in a climate that allows for mid-summer dining. Make a batch of these bars, sit at an outdoor table (or swing on a hammock), and sip on raspberry champagne. You deserve it.

Lemon Blueberry Bars

*Adapted slightly from a Cook’s Illustrated Recipe

For the Crust:
1 1/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 cup confectioners’ sugar, plus more to decorate the finished bars
1/2 teaspoon salt
8 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened but still cool, cut into 1-inch pieces

For the Filling:
7 large egg yolks, plus 2 large eggs
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
2/3 cup lemon juice (from 4 or 5 medium lemons), plus 1/4 cup finely grated zest
Pinch of salt
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into 4 pieces
3 tablespoons heavy cream
1/3 cup fresh blueberries

1. Spray a 9-inch square baking pan with nonstick cooking spray. Fold two 16-inch pieces of foil or parchment paper lengthwise to measure 9 inches wide. Fit 1 sheet in the bottom of the greased pan, pushing it into the corners and up the sides of the pan (overhang will help in removal of baked bars). Fit the second sheet in the pan in the same manner, perpendicular to the first sheet. Spray the sheets with nonstick cooking spray.

2. Place the flour, confectioners’ sugar, and salt in a food processor and process briefly. Add the butter and process to blend, 8 to 10 seconds, then process until the mixture is pale yellow and resembles coarse meal, about three 1-second pulses. Sprinkle the mixture into the prepared pan and press firmly with your fingers into an even layer over the entire pan bottom. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.

3. Adjust an oven rack to the middle position and heat the oven to 350°F (175°C). Bake the crust until golden brown, about 20 minutes.

4. In a medium non-reactive bowl, whisk together the yolks and whole eggs until combined, about 5 seconds. Add the granulated sugar and whisk until just combined, about 5 seconds. Add the lemon juice, zest, and salt; whisk until combined, about 5 seconds. Transfer the mixture to a medium non-reactive saucepan, add the butter pieces, and cook over medium-low heat, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, until the curd thickens to a thin sauce-like consistency and registers 170°F (76°C) on an instant-read thermometer, about 5 minutes. Immediately pour the curd through a single-mesh stainless steel strainer set over a clean non-reactive bowl. Stir in the heavy cream; pour the curd into the warm crust immediately. Sprinkle with blueberries.

5. Bake until the filling is shiny and opaque and the center 3 inches jiggle slightly when shaken, 10 to 15 minutes. Cool on a wire rack to room temperature, about 45 minutes. Remove the bars from the pan using the foil or parchment handles and transfer to a cutting board. Cut into 2 1/2 inch squares, wiping the knife clean between cuts as necessary. Sieve confectioners’ sugar over the bars, if desired.

Monet

Anecdotes and AppleCores

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.

Monet

Anecdotes and Apple Cores

Vanilla Cupcakes

Do you know what I’ve been doing today?

Drinking coffee and dream of cake shops.

Because I had the most wonderful Cake Stand party on Thursday night, and I realized that my dream was inching closer to reality.

Thanks to the loveliest Mallory Alison, I was able to put my five cakes on Vintage Heart’s enviable counters. The “eagle rock” walls contrasted well with my meringues and buttercreams. And although it was a hot night in Austin, TX, we all enjoyed masterfully prepared iced coffees and slices of cake.

On the menu:

Red Velvet Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting

Strawberry Cream Cake with a Swiss Meringue Buttercream

Chocolate Mocha Cake with a Caramel Filling and French Meringue Buttercream

Sisters’ Birthday Cake (Yellow Cake with Chocolate Frosting)

And…my personal favorite…Banana Cream Cake with a Cinnamon Heart on top.

By the end of the night, I was exhausted, but also thankful and hopeful. Thankful for the love and support of my friends. Hopeful for what the next year will bring for me and Cake Stand.

In fact, I got so excited about opening a cake shop that I began browsing through restaurant supply stores. Because if a girl iss going to open a cake shop, she’s going to need some sliverware and plates.

And I think I’d go with a classic white china set. Something that would show of my cakes without stealing attention. Like this:

Lovely, huh? Simple yet functional. And I know they’d look smashing with a thick slice of Red Velvet Cake. You know you can already picture it in your head.

So when I do open my shop–soon, I hope–I’ll be contacting Crosbys and ordering a set or two of these Porcelite plates.

Until then, I’ll be making as many cakes as I can. And also some cupcakes too. Because cupcakes, especially small cupcakes, are the perfect antidote to a long and tiring day. These very vanilla cupcakes were made for two friends…two friends that both celebrated their birthdays on Saturday. They are moist and light and not too sweet. In fact, that is one compliment I was so happy to receive on Thursday night. People came up and told me that they liked me cakes because they weren’t like walking into a semi-truck of sugar. They were subtle and moist and packed with flavor. Yum.

Vanilla Cupcakes

1 1/3 cup all purpose flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup sugar
1/4 cup butter (room temperature)
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup buttermilk

1. Preheat your oven to 400 degrees F and line a 12 cup muffin pan or a 24 cup mini-muffin pan.

2. In a small bowl, whisk together your dry ingredients until well combined.

3. In a large bowl, ideally using a stand mixer, cream together butter and sugar until light and smooth, about 3 minutes. Add in the egg and vanilla and beat until well combined. Add half of the flour mixture, stir; pour in buttermilk, stir; and then add the remaining flour. Stir until well combined.

4. Distribute evenly in muffin pans, filling each about 2/3 full. Bake for 18-20 minutes for standard size cupcakes, 12-15 for mini cupcakes. Allow to cool completely before frosting.

If you want a great tutorial for how to make the “roses” on the top of these cupcakes. Read here!

Monet

Anecdotes and Apples

Banana Coconut Cream Pie

A friend from college visited me this past weekend. We remembered our days at CU-Denver with fondness. The both of us are tall, around 5’9, and our imposing physical presence (smile) was only matched by our intellectual prowess. Yes, we were those girls.

-The girls that always had a comment when a professor asked us to discuss an obscure 19th century novel

-The girls that carried notebooks full of quotes and questions

-The girls that remained aloof and cool while still being unabashedly impressed by faculty that were living “our dream”

A few years later, and we’re both achieving what we wanted for ourselves. I’m completing my MFA in Fiction while Ali is about to start her PhD at USC. In a few more years, we both might teach at some small private college nestled in the woods (at least the “woods” is part of my dream).

Ali and I are puzzled and intrigued and mesmerized by words. The way we humans string them together to make sense of this frightening and wonderful thing called life. When I’m with people like Ali, I settle into who I am again. Isn’t it true that sometimes it takes an old friend or family member to remind you of what you love?

So after Ali’s departure yesterday, I started to write with more intent. I spent a couple of hours working on a story for my thesis…and I imagine I’ll do more of the same today, and tomorrow, and the day after that.

And while I write, I bake. To me, the two go hand and hand. Using my hands to create something, out of seemingly nothing, is what makes me feel alive.

This banana coconut cream pie is rich and luxurious. When summer’s heat becomes too oppressive, a slice of this pie reminds you that there are many good things about a heavy and lasting heat. This recipe calls for both cow’s milk and coconut milk, which adds a complexity that most banana cream pies lack. And I also sprinkled several handfuls of unsweetened coconut over my pie dough before it blind baked in the oven. The result was a beautiful layer of toasted coconut on the bottom of my shell.

So I hope you enjoy a piece of pie or sit down to write a poem today. And I hope you remember all those people that remind you of who you truly are. Go find them. Be with them. And don’t let them slip out of your life.

Banana Coconut Cream Pie

1 (14 or 15 oz) can coconut milk (not light)

1 cup milk

1/2 cup unsweetened shredded coconut

2/3 cup sugar

1/4 teaspoons salt

5 egg yolks

1/4 cup cornstarch

2 TBSP unsalted butter, cut into 2 pieces

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1 recipe butter pie dough

2-3 bananas

1. Preheat your oven to 400 F. Roll out pie dough and place in pie pan. Line pie dough with a piece of aluminum foil and place pie weights or dried beans in center. Blind-bake your pie for 15-20 minutes. Once the dough has set, remove aluminum foil and sprinkle pie crust with a small handful of shredded coconut. Bake for an additional 10 minutes, or until the crust is golden brown.

2. For the filling: bring the coconut milk, whole milk, shredded coconut, 1/3 cup of the sugar, and salt to a simmer in a medium saucepan over medium high-heat, stirring occasionally.

3. As the milk mixture simmers, whisk the egg yolks, remaining sugar, and cornstarch together in a separate bowl. Slowly whisk 1 cup of the simmering milk mixture into the the yolk mixture to temper. Then, slowly add the egg mixture into the simmering saucepan. Reduce the heat to medium and cook, stirring or whisking vigorously, until the mixture is thickened, and a few bubbles burst on the surface.

4. Off the heat, whisk in the butter and vanilla. Let the mixture cool until warm, stirring often.

5. Cut one to two bananas into thin slices and line the bottom of the baked and cooled pie crust. Pour warm filling into crust. Lay a sheet of plastic wrap directly on the surface of the filling to prevent a skin from forming. Cool in the refrigerator until the filling is chilled and set, about 4 hours. Before serving, cut an additional one to two bananas and decorate surface with slices.

PS. 1 cup of whipping or heavy cream plus 2 TBSP of sugar make an excellent base for whipped cream. Before serving, whip together the cream and sugar with an electric mixer until the cream forms soft peaks, 1 to 3 minutes.