Cherry Cola Cupcakes

What makes the world go round? Diet coke! Or... at least that's what makes my world spin. I've been toying with the idea of doing some baking with soda for some time now, and my quest to yearbook camp a few weeks ago finally gave me the opportunity to do that.

Cherry Coke Cupcakes

adapted from A Muse in My Kitchen

(parenthetical notes show you how I made this vegan)

Ingredients

• 1½ cups all-purpose flour
• 3 tablespoons cocoa powder
• ½ teaspoon baking soda
• ¼ teaspoon salt
• ¾ cup granulated sugar
• ½ cup unsalted butter, at room temperature (I used earth balance)
• 1 egg (I used Ener-G egg replacer)
• ½ cup buttermilk (I used vanilla soy milk and earth balance)
• ¾ cup Cherry Dr. Pepper 
• 1½ teaspoons vanilla extract
• 1/2 teaspoon maraschino cherry juice
• 1 (21-ounce) can cherry pie filling

Instructions

1. Preheat the oven to 350° F and prepare a muffin pan with foil or paper liners.
2. In a medium bowl sift together the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda and salt. Set aside.
3. In the bowl of a standing mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat together sugar and butter until light and fluffy.
4. Add the egg and mix until incorporated, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed.
5. In a bowl or large measuring cup, combine the buttermilk, Dr. Pepper, maraschino cherry juice, and vanilla extract; stir to combine. (At this point the mixture will looked curdled, it’s normal…keep moving on!)
6. Add 1/3 of the dry ingredients to the butter and mix on low speed.
7. Add half of the liquid and continue to mix.
8. Repeat until all of the dry and liquid ingredients are combined (the last addition should be the dry ingredients), scraping down the bowl as needed.
9. Divide batter among 12 cupcake liners.
10. Bake for 17-19 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the middle comes out clean.
11. Allow to cool in the pan for 5 minutes, then transfer to a rack to cool completely before frosting.
12. Frost with your favorite buttercream frosting! (I used a rum-buttercream and topped them with a sour cherry.)

Spicy Thai Coconut Soup with Shrimp

When I was in grade school, one of my closest friends was Thai. I don't remember the story about how her parents met, but I vaguely remember there being cheeseburgers involved. Her mom was from Thailand and her dad was American. My friend was exotic looking, but having grown up in Southern Oregon, she was just a typical small-town girl.

I remember going to her house after school when we were in the fourth or fifth grade. She lived close enough to our elementary school that we could walk--this always impressed me, as my house was a good ten miles outside of town and you couldn't walk anywhere. Walking home, we'd pass a little corner store. Sometimes, we'd pop in and wander through the isles, loose change burning a hole in our pockets. Rarely, though, would we buy anything. Because we knew what was waiting for us at her house.

We would usually sprint the last block to her house, and explode through the front door. Our backpacks (Jansports, with the straps as loose as they would go, of course) would get flung onto the dining room table and we'd scurry into the sunroom (another novel concept for me). We'd scramble onto the overstuffed floral print couch, and on the wicker coffee table, waiting for us, would be an assortment of cookies and two huge glasses of whole milk. I've never been a fan of milk, so my glass always went largely untouched... but you can bet I did a number on those cookies!

Everything in this house tasted exotic to me. Even the air had a different tang to it--like it had traveled with my friend's mom, all the way from Thailand, and was somehow spicier than our boring old Oregon air. Plain chocolate chip cookies somehow oozed with even more chocolately goodness. Lemon cookies forced my lips to purse together in a pucker so tight it almost hurt--but hurt in a delicious way. Oatmeal, which I usually detested, was creamy and smooth, the raisins and nuts a burst of flavor and an added texture that complimented the unfamiliar spice that the cookies had. It was as if everything had the underlying sweetness of coconut, and the surprising zing of an unknown pepper.

Even though my foodie forays into Thai cuisine never broke past cookies, the occasional bowl of sticky rice and spicy pork and veggies, all things Thai bring me right back to that sunroom and an overflowing plate of cookies. I've since lost touch with this friend, but I do wonder if my house was as intoxicating to her as hers was to me. I wonder if the dinners of Hamburger Helper or snacks of cottage cheese and crackers were as flavorful and complex as the meals we shared at her house.

When I tried this recipe, the flavors and smells it created took me right back to these memories. It was like an instant teleport, back in time, to that house with those people. The spices that lingered in the air in my sixth grade memory permeated my own house, as I mimicked many of the flavors I remembered, even if only by smell, from my childhood visits.

Spicy Thai Coconut Soup with Shrimp

adapted from allrecipes.com

• 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
• 2 tablespoons grated fresh ginger
• 1 stalk lemon grass, minced
• 2 teaspoons red curry paste
• 4 cups chicken broth
• 3 tablespoons fish sauce
• 1 tablespoon brown sugar
• 3 (13.5 ounce) cans coconut milk
• 1/2 pound fresh shiitake mushrooms, sliced
• 1 pound medium shrimp - peeled and deveined
• 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
• sea salt to taste
• 1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro 

1. Heat the oil in a large pot over medium heat. Cook and stir the ginger, lemongrass, and curry paste in the heated oil for 1 minute. 
2. Slowly pour the chicken broth over the mixture, stirring continually. 
3. Stir in the fish sauce and brown sugar; simmer for 15 minutes. 
4. Stir in the coconut milk and mushrooms; cook and stir until the mushrooms are soft, about 5 minutes. 
5. Add the shrimp; cook until no longer translucent about 5 minutes. Stir in the lime juice; season with salt; garnish with cilantro.  

Blueberry Zucchini Muffins

Being raised in the Umpqua Valley in southern Oregon provided me with some distinctly country-style memories that always bring a smile to my face. When I compare my childhood to the lives that my students are currently living, I can't help but wonder how much of an impact my country upbringing really had on who I am today.

I learned to drive on a tractor. I spent most of my summer barefoot. We didn't have pools in our backyards, we had nature--and a rive. I took my driving test in a hail storm. It's nothing like Southern California. Does that make one better or worse? I don't know.

Growing up, summer meant long, hot days. It mean sunburns, followed by a fresh crop of freckles. It meant barefoot and in a bathing suit, from 9 am until 9 pm. It meant sleepovers on the trampoline. It meant running in the sprinklers. It meant all-day adventures with my partners in crime, Katie and Laura, who lived in the houses adjacent to my parents'.

From grade school until we each started our own paths in early high school, the three of us were inseparable. We staged lawnmower races across our backyards (because no one in Oregon has a fence). We whipped up strange concoctions to attempt to feed to Laura's dog, Charlie. We made paper dolls that looked like people we knew--Most famously, the Dawn Doll. We did origami and played with clay, and tried to sell our creations to the neighbors (the Guy Who Didn't Pay still owes us big bucks for whatever crap we pawned off on him). We came up with elaborate stories to torment our younger siblings with--I am fairly certain we had Laura's sister convinced she was adopted. We played the piano and sang Lion King songs. We took dance classes. We waited for the sun to set for kick the can and flashlight tag. Looking back, I don't know how we ever got bored. We had each other, and we had acres to run wild on.

As our clay-creation business proved to be less than fruitful, we also sought out employment through other means. I mowed a community lawn for $45 a month. We all did our share of "chores" to earn our freedoms and a little fun money here and there. But before we could jump, full force, into the workforce at 15 or 16, we found another way to make some extra money for all the Jones Soda and Mambas our little hearts desired.

One of the local farms paid people to pick blueberries during the summer. Pickers made $2.50 per bucket, which probably worked out to far less than minimum wage, but our child labor was somehow legal. Katie, Laura and I would get up at 5 something in the morning, have one of our parents drive us out to the farms, and we would pick berries until noon. Each bucket you filled got you a stamp on your card, which you turned in at the end of the day. I remember paychecks being roughly $75, which, when you're 12 or 13, is a lot of money.

But the work wasn't easy. Not only did we make a huge sacrifice by getting up early, but we would spend hours hunched over rows of blueberries, sitting ontop of hard plastic buckets. We got sunburned. We ate a lot of junk food. We ate a lot of blueberries. We watched in awe as migrant workers, with far more nimble hands than our own, breezed down rows of blueberries, filling up a dozen buckets in the time that we completed two or three. But nevertheless, we did this for several summers. Blueberry picking became somewhat iconic for us--it was summer when you could make some extra cash picking berries.

Over those summers, I guess you could argue that I learned how to appreciate hard work. I learned how difficult it can be to make decent money doing manual labor. I learned that ice cream is even more delicious after you've been working in the hot sun all morning. I also learned that I hate blueberries. I was never a fan of the fruit before, but after summers of sneaking handfuls as a snack, here and there, I loathe their taste. I may have even been known to refer to them as the "devil berries." Funny how things turn out, no? Despite the distaste for blueberries that I developed, I still fondly think back to all my summers spent on Norris Farms. I can't walk by a fruit display in a store and peek to see if the berries are from Norris's.

And even though I am not a blueberry fan, I have come to appreciate them for what they are. As a kid, they meant money to me. Now, they mean a fun ingredient to toss into muffins and breads, sparingly, to change things up.

With the copious amounts of zucchini I have had at my disposal, I have been looking for a way to change up the typical zucchini bread with some new flavors and textures. Blueberries answered that call!

Blueberry Zucchini Muffins

recipe adapted from epicurious.com

Blueberries and lemon zest add an interesting twist to zucchini muffins.

Muffins:

• 3 eggs, lightly beaten
• 1/2 cup olive oil
• 1/2 cup applesauce
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 1 teaspoon lemon juice
• 1 tablespoon lemon zest
• 1 cup white sugar
• 1 1/4 cups brown sugar
• 2 cups shredded zucchini
• 1 1/2 cups white flour
• 1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1/4 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
• 1 teaspoon nutmeg
• 1 pint fresh blueberries

Crumble Topping:

• 1/2 cup flour
• 1/2 cup brown sugar
• 1/2 cup oats
• 1 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1 teaspoon nutmeg
• 6 tablespoons butter
• 2 tablespoons chopped walnuts/pecans (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 350.
2. Line a muffin tray with paper liners OR lightly grease two large loaf pans.
3. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, spices, baking soda and baking powder and salt.
4. With an electric mixer, mix the eggs and sugars. Add the olive oil and applesauce, followed by the juice and vanilla.
5. Mix in the dry ingredients.
6. Fold in the zucchini, zest and berries.
7. Scoop into liners, or fill loaf pans.
8. Mix together the crumble ingredients, until well blended (but crumbly, duh!).
9. Sprinkle on top of the muffins/loaf.
10. Bake for 18-22 minutes (muffins) or about 1 hour (loaf). 

Mini Marathon Muffins

Five years ago, I'm pretty sure that if I had tried to run a mile, I would have dropped dead before I finished. I'm fairly certain that the likelihood of getting the five-years-ago version of me in running shorts and tennis shoes, bouncing down the beach boardwalk before noon, was virtually nil. Even the thought of running, for any other purpose that to save my own skin, would have made me cringe. "Running" and "fun" were definitely not on the same page in my book.

But now, years down the road and about a hundred pounds lighter, I've got an addiction. I may still groan about an upcoming run, but I also crave them. I like the feeling of pushing my body. I like being out of breath. I like struggling to make it up a hill, beat my last mile time, push myself just a little bit further, sweat just a little bit more.

In May, I ran my first half marathon. My running buddy and I prepped for our race in a number of ways. We did lots of distance runs... with celebratory high-fives every time we demolished an old time or distance... We ate a lot--did you know that running 10 miles a day will make you REALLY FREAKING HUNGRY? The night before, we relaxed, watched crappy TV, ate carbs with reckless abandon and baked.

What could be better for a half (or mini) marathon, than protein-powered, chocolate-chipped, bite-sized, mouthfuls of delicious? With protein powder in the batter, these little guys were exactly what we needed the morning of the race... and pretty much any other time we felt like eating them.

Mini Marathon Muffins

Adorable and delicious. What more could you ask for?

* 3 large, ripe bananas
* 4 egg whites
* 2 tbsp vegetable oil
* 1/3 cup nonfat milk (or almond milk)
* 1/2 cup sugar
* 1 tsp vanilla
* 1/2 tsp cinnamon
* 1 tsp salt
* 1/2 tsp baking soda
* 1 tsp baking powder
* 2 scoops chocolate protein powder
* 1 cup oats (processed to fine crumbs in blender)
* 1 cup all purpose flour

* 1 cup mini chocolate chips

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Mash bananas with fork.
3. Add to the bananas…eggs, oil, milk, sugar, salt, cinnamon, vanilla, baking soda and baking powder. Mix well.
4. Whisk together the protein powder, flour and oats.
5. Gently blend the protein, flour and oats into the banana mixture and stir for 20 seconds or until moistened.
6. Fold in the chocolate chips.
7. Pour batter into lined mini muffin pan, filling the cups about 2/3 full. 
8. Bake for 15 minutes or until a toothpick inserted near the middle of the center muffin comes out clean.
9. Devour. Have energy. Gain all the muscles!

Zucchini Chocolate Chip Muffins

Have you missed me?

I wish I had some sort of really good excuse that would explain away my absence, but I really don't. Life has been happening. School was wrapping up, I was shutting down my classroom, packing for two separate trips to Texas, and now I'm enjoying a sweet six days home before I'm off again.

It is safe to say that my posting is at an all time low, and as much as I'd like to promise to be better, I can't. My summer is a cycle of home for a cluster of days, gone for several more, home again, gone again. And while I am away, my fingers itch for my mixer. My brain is filled with recipe ideas. I'm dying to spend a morning, barefoot in my kitchen, watching my neighborhood come to life.

But, when I get home... It doesn't always come to fruition. After being gone for so many days, there is so much to do. So much that doesn't get done when I'm not here. I seriously think the cat needs to start chipping in with the housekeeping, or paying rent. Either that or she needs to get a job.

One thing that does, to some extent, manage to take care of itself while I am gone is my garden. Back in April, I planted a little patch of my backyard with zucchini, bell peppers, summer squash, tomatoes and an artichoke. Now, the summer squash died. The artichoke isn't anything to brag about. The tomato desperately wants to be transplanted to a new location that is less crowded. The bell peppers are overshadowed by the gargantuan zucchini plans. And the zucchini... well, they're taking off. I kind of think they are the bullies of the garden, stealing everyone else's water and nutrients and getting HUGE when I am not looking!

I picked several small (about 6 inches long) zucchini before I left for Houston on Wednesday. I came home Sunday night to find these monsters! I've never fancied myself to be much of a green thumb--most of my gardening success can be attributed to my friend Kerri, who seems to be a wealth of knowledge on just about every topic.

The picture doesn't do them justice. The largest was at least 12 inches long, and about three inches across!

Not wanting my bountiful produce to go to waste, I've scoured the internet looking for recipes. I've thumbed through cookbooks and magazines. I've tried -a lot- of things. You would think that zucchini would be a pretty easy thing to work with. Not the case! I've had more flops in my past attempts than successes! And by flop, I don't mean inedible. Or even bad. Just not worthy of sharing with the world, or adapting and making my own.

That is, of course, until this morning. My whole kitchen still smells faintly of baking cinnamon, cardamom and chocolate. It is a divine smell. It kind of makes me want to eat everything in sight. Which is why I need to get going on this run I got myself psyched up for.... 45 minutes ago...

Zucchini and Chocolate Chip Muffins

Adapted from a whole bunch of recipes from all over the place

Delicious, adorable and vegan. Just like my friend Kerri! (ok, I'm not sure if she is actually delicious... We don't have THAT kind of relationship)

Because I love my friend Kerri so much, I made this recipe vegan... But you could easily change it by using real eggs and butter in place of the apple sauce and oil. But the vegan version is just as delicious! (If you don't have egg replacer on hand (you can get it at Sprouts!), bananas work!)

• 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 3/4 cups whole wheat flour
•  1/2 cup sugar
• 1/4 brown sugar
• 1 teaspoon cardamom
• 1 teaspoon all spice
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• Equivalent of 1 egg, using Ener-G egg replacer, lightly beaten
• 1/2 cup apple sauce
• splash of olive oil
• 1/4 cup milk
• 1 tablespoon lemon juice
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 cup shredded zucchini
• 1 apple, peeled and shredded
• 1/2 cup miniature semisweet chocolate chips

1. In the bowl of your stand mixer, combine all the wet ingredients.
2. In another bowl, sift together the flour, soda, salt and spices. Stir in the sugars.
3. Add the dry ingredients to the wet mixture.
4. Fold in the zucchini, apple and chocolate chips.
5. Spoon into muffin cups, filling 2/3s full.
6. Bake at 350 for 18-22 minutes.
7. Enjoy!

Taste of Summer: Lemon Meringue

When the housing plots in my neighborhood were developed, there were certain things that stayed consistent from lot to lot. Because there was a single builder who did most of the homes in the area, many of the homes are structurally similar--having only changed through remodels and additions over the years. The landscaping on many of the plots was similar, too--certain kinds of trees, plants, etc. One thing most of the homes had in common was some kind of fruit tree...

That is, of course, except for my house. Ok... That's not entirely true. There are three unidentified fruit trees in my back yard, but they don't produce anything--other than frustration. I planted a lemon tree, as well, but it has yet to give me any lemons. I'm determined, though. Someday, my baking needs will be fulfilled by my own plants!

But for now, I rely on my giving friends, who have more fruit than they know what to do with. I hoard lemons and lemons (and eggs, actually) from fellow teachers who have an abundance--or no use for the little produce that they have. And in return, I bake delicious things that then reside in our teachers' lounge. It's pretty much a win-win for everyone involved.

Lemon meringue has always been one of my favorite desserts. And also one that always intimidated me. But I've realized that, with a trusty kitchen aid mixer, it's not hard at all. It just takes some patience and some practice. And having churned out about half a dozen lemon meringue pies in the last two months or so, I can say I think I've perfected a recipe.

Lemon Meringue Pie

adapted from Allrecipes.com

You can also pipe on the meringue, using an icing bag and whatever tip tickles your fancy.

• 1 cup white sugar
• 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
• 3 tablespoons cornstarch
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1 1/2 cups water
• 3 lemons, juiced and zested
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 4 egg yolks, beaten
• 1 (9 inch) pie crust, baked
• 4 egg whites
• 6 tablespoons white sugar

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. To Make Lemon Filling: In a medium saucepan, whisk together 1 cup sugar, flour, cornstarch, and salt. Stir in water, lemon juice and lemon zest... Don't worry if you get a little pulp in there, too. It makes it that much more delicious!
3.  Cook over medium-high heat, stirring frequently, until mixture comes to a boil. Stir in butter. Place egg yolks in a small bowl and gradually whisk in 1/2 cup of hot sugar mixture. Whisk egg yolk mixture back into remaining sugar mixture. Bring to a boil and cook while stirring constantly until thick. Remove from heat. 
4. Pour filling into baked pastry shell. (Don't forget to poke holes in the shell before you bake it)
5. With your mixer, whip egg whites until foamy. Add sugar gradually, and continue to whip until stiff peaks form. Spread meringue over pie, sealing the edges at the crust.
6. Bake in preheated oven for 10 minutes, or until meringue is golden brown.

Black Bean & Rice Enchiladas

Taking care of people is just what I do. For as long as I can remember, I've always wanted to help other people feel good. I wanted to be able to contribute, positively, to the world around me in ways that made other people smile.

When I was younger, I volunteered at a local zoo. I spent my summer days working with animals and educating the public about animal conservation. I am probably in millions of family photos, holding some sort of exotic animal, grinning like an idiot with a total stranger's kids. I've also been peed on, bitten by and shat on by more endangered species that you can name.

When I got into high school, I started coaching kids' volleyball. My best friend and I took two teams under our wings, with mixed results. One undefeated season, and one lack luster. But we have scores of girls (who are now graduating from high school!!!!) that we helped fall in love with a game that we were passionate about. We even hosted a sleepover--complete with makeovers!

When I went away to college, I got involved as a resident adviser and I helped coach a local speech and debate team. I never really realized it, but I was constantly looking for ways to make other people feel important, special, needed, at home and valued. I loved cooking for my residents. I reveled in the rousing conversations I would have with my speech team, about everything from college to fights with their friends and parents. I was as excited as they were when they won awards for their performances.

Despite all this, my maternal instincts, over all, are lacking. Babies give me the heebie jeebies. Small children make me really nervous. The thought of changing diapers, buying baby clothes... being responsible for another life... Terrify me. And all of my friends seem to be launching into this stage in their lives (or they've been there for a while and facebook has just recently let me know this).

I feel like everyone around me is getting married, having babies and growing up. And I'm not going to lie, it's freaking me out just a little. I am SO not at that place in my life yet. But you know what? I'm ok with it. Just don't ask me to babysit.

But you know what I CAN do? Make delicious, easy to freeze, meals for you when you've got a bun in the oven. One of my colleagues just had a baby (like, this morning! Happy birthday, Matthew James!), and last week I took the time to prepare some dinners for her family so that feeding her husband, her two year old and herself didn't send her over the edge.

Black Bean & Rice Enchiladas

• 1 green pepper, chopped
• 1 medium red onion, diced
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1 (15 ounce) can black beans, rinsed and drained
• 1 (14.5 ounce) can diced tomatoes 
• 1 small can green chiles
• 1/4 cup green enchilada sauce
• 1 tablespoon chili powder
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
• 2 cups cooked brown rice (I cooked this in my rice cooker with 1/4 of enchilada sauce/water)
• 8 flour tortillas, warmed
• 1 cup salsa
• 1 cup reduced fat shredded Cheddar cheese
• 3 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro leaves
• 1 sliced avocado

1. In a large skillet, saute the green pepper, onion and garlic in oil until tender. Add the beans, tomatoes, enchilada sauce, chili powder, cumin and red pepper flakes; bring to a boil. Reduce heat; simmer, uncovered, until heated through and mixture thickens. Add rice; cook 5 minutes longer or until heated through. 
2. Lightly spread a thin layer of enchilada sauce on the bottom of a baking dish.
3. Spoon the mixture down the center of each tortilla. Fold sides over filling and roll up. Place in the coated dish. Spoon salsa and any left over rice mixture over each tortilla. Cover and bake at 350 degrees F for 25 minutes. Uncover; sprinkle with cheese and cilantro. Bake 10 minutes longer or until cheese is melted. 
4. Top with sliced avocado and serve! 
5. Or, you can cover with foil and freeze. Simply add about 45 minutes to your cooking time if you are cooking them from frozen.