Giddyup

It's "Kids Day" at the Greene County Fair. We're off to feed some goats and eat fried stuff.

Peace!

That Taste Like Frickin' Awesome

At the risk of this starting to look like a baking blog, I will once again try to tempt you into some delicious kitchen work.

I give you, "Muffins that Taste Like Donuts." They're pretty much what the title says. You can find this recipe and variations of it all over the internet. I actually learned it back in my high school culinary arts class taught by Mrs. Mary Ann Bray, who I believe is still teaching the class. I'm all for classes in which you get to eat on a regular basis -- was I destined to be a stay at home dad or what? Mrs. Bray was an excellent cook with enormous hair. I'm guessing she's still an excellent cook and still has enormous hair.

OK, these muffins are incredibly easy to make so you have no excuse not to run to the kitchen right now and whip up a batch. If you can make pancakes, you can make these. My only warning is that it's extremely easy to devour one or two or five of these as soon as they're done baking. We made some the other morning and there was only one left when Julie got home. It was totally the kids' fault.

It's a pretty flexible recipe, so you could probably healthy them up a bit by modifying some ingredients, but where's the fun in that. Besides, I'm going to assume these are already way better than a deep fried donut, so I'm going to put them in the "healthy" column as is.

Muffins that Taste Like Donuts
Muffins
1 3/4 cups flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/3 cup oil (I used light olive oil)
3/4 cup white sugar
1 egg
3/4 cup milk

Topping
1/2 cup melted butter
3/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon

Directions
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Mix together all the dry stuff. In another bowl, mix together all the wet stuff. Add the wet mixture to the dry mixture. Stir everything together just enough to combine it. (Lumpy is good.) Grease some muffin tins and fill with the mixture. (Those little cupcake papers or foils aren't needed, but go ahead if that's how you roll.) Bake for 20 minutes or so. (If you stick a wooden toothpick in and out of the middle of one muffin and it comes out clean, they're done.) Tip from Mrs. Bray: When baking muffins, fill any empty spots in the muffin tin with water. It protects the muffin tin and will add moisture in the oven to help keep whatever you are baking moist. Meanwhile, mix the sugar and cinnamon for the topping and melt the butter. Once muffins have cooled a little, pop them out with a fork and dip the tops of the muffins into the melted butter and then into the cinnamon sugar mixture. Then start stuffing your face. (Or put them on a cooling rack. Your call.)

And now for the photographic evidence:

I'm telling you these things are good.
I couldn't even snap a photo before Jameson was done with his first one.



The twins ate two each. And that was after having already eaten breakfast.


Butter, cinnamon and sugar. I rest my case.


Make some of your own. Now.

One Benefit of Having Kids

Chocolate chip cookies always sound like a good idea.

So today, we whipped up a batch for no reason other than we wanted to eat some fresh chocolate chip cookies. And I photographed them for no reason other than to make you wish you were eating some fresh chocolate chip cookies.

Enjoy the warm, gooey goodness.

Eat Your Fritos, Young Man!

One of the strangest, apparently genetic, traits that shows up early in a child's life is his or her palate. It's amazing to me that kids are hardwired from birth to like or dislike certain tastes and textures. It's been a topic of discussion in our house lately because Jameson's nightly attempt to eat, or more accurately not eat, his vegetables is like witnessing a live episode of Fear Factor. Oh the drama! Jameson acts like we're feeding him sautéed cow dung. His body shudders with every bite of green beans. He can barely keep mashed potatoes in his mouth. And peas? Peas!? They nearly had him spewing on the table. No matter the vegetable, each bite is suspended in his mouth just long enough for him to grab his beverage and swallow the mess whole. Sometimes followed by convulsions. It's a circus show that drives us crazy.

But I can't get mad. I feel the same freakin' way.

Julie is amazed that I'm able to relate to this nightly food fiasco. She simply cannot imagine what it's like to experience the gag reflex simply because some vegetables have crossed one's lips. In fact, she can't imagine any food causing such a negative reaction. According to her, even her most reviled food item, pickles, would be easy for her to eat -- she just wouldn't like it.

That's crazy talk. I can list all kinds of food, namely vegetables, that I have to choke down during meals. Just the other night she watched, amazed, as I gave a performance that actually rivaled Jameson's when I tried to set a good example by eating all my peas. Blech! I too had to reach for the nearest beverage to wash those peas down as they sent shivers down my spine. Pathetic, I know! I've been trying for years to like vegetables but nothing has worked. They're gross and I don't know how to get around it. Jameson is in the same boat and it appears that Truman has inherited the "vegetables are poison" gene, as well. Amelia, luckily, seems to like her veggies. Maybe it's a gender thing. I vaguely remember my younger sisters being vegetable eaters when we were kids. I'm the oldest of five kids and I may have been the pickiest eater of us all. And now I've passed this debilitating disease on to at least one of my children. Maybe there's still hope. Jameson loves eggs with soft yolks. I can barely stand to watch him eat those yolks and I'm cringing just thinking about it. So Jameson isn't as bad as me. And on those nights when he's stuck at the dinner table, staring down a plate full of peas, at least he'll have company. Me.

So what does a discerning eater like me actually like? Well, here's what my food guide pyramid looks like.



Maybe one day vegetables will make the cut.