[caption id="attachment_290" align="alignleft" width="128" caption="Superfluous cat pics"][/caption]
So, it may make you feel better to know that I have destroyed baked goods, especially on Sunday mornings. I woke up Easter Sunday with the strong urge to satiate my craving for muffins…huckleberry muffins to be exact. The huckleberries are a side story—they came to me, courtesy of Marx Foods, for an upcoming piece I’m working on. But quite honestly, I had never tasted huckleberries before then…and I was under the conviction that they were just a character of Mr. Twain’s own creation. Now I believe that they are real berries, apparently very prolific in the Pacific Northwest during the summer months, and definitely very delicious. These came to me frozen, though still very fragrant of dark berry, juniper, and black pepper. (My next task is to figure out if they’ll grow next to the blueberries in our yard!)
Back to the muffins…so I had a week-long muffin craving and I was ready to end it. I got up, found a recipe, and set about mixing the dry, then the wet ingredients. I gently folded everything together, taking care not to overmix but searching for the dry floury patches on the bottom of the bowl. After the huckleberries went in, I divided the batter ever so carefully among the twelve muffin cups (into unbleached If You Care wrappers—these are really the only muffin cups I like to use anymore—and they release the cakes like a dream!) and sprinkled with Turbinado sugar. I took a tiny taste and within a second, a horrible thought entered my mouth and then my head…I did not remember putting sugar in with the wet or dry ingredients. I ran back to the recipe, ready to blame the author for the terrible omission of sweetener, but there it was, the forgotten 2/3 cup. At this point, there was no fix. I tried to hurriedly mix sugar into each of the cups, knowing that my chances for success were not looking good. Thirty minutes later, the tops were golden and crispy with sugar crystals. The bottoms, unfortunately, required a thick spread of honey. I was less upset about the muffins than the thought that the perfect muffin would not be realized and the craving would probably linger until the next weekend…and the next round of huckleberry muffins.