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We had these muffins for our breakfast/brunch today. I haven't made them for a while, but was reminded this morning just how good they are.
First off, let me say that as I mixed up the milk/oatmeal mixture last night before bed, I planned on doing a post on them today. Then I thought, "Nah, these little guys are so 'blah' looking, no one will be tempted to make them." Well, they may lack pizzazz in the looks department, but they make up for it in wholesome, smack-your-lips flavor.
You might ask why there are only two lonely little muffins in the above picture? (Geesh, they really don't look like much, do they?) That's how many are left. No, no, no, the two of us did not consume 22 muffins this morning. The recipe only makes 16, and beyond that I divide it in half for us. (So yes, we both ate three, but hey, they were small! And sooo good. I can guarantee these two will not last the day.)
This recipe is adapted from a great cookbook, The Breakfast Book by Marion Cunningham. Eating these muffins is like consuming a bowl of hot, steamy oatmeal . . . only much better. They are moist, heavy and . . . and . . . and creamy. (Creamy? Can a muffin be creamy? That's what I think of when I bite into one of these. Slathered with butter, of course. The butter makes them PERFECT, but I did notice someone at the table this morning putting a bit of strawberry jam on his.)
I sprinkle cinnamon on the top before baking because I love cinnamon in my oatmeal. Like raisins in your oatmeal? Throw some raisins in the batter.
Okay, on with the recipe.
BOWL OF OATMEAL MUFFINS
2 cups buttermilk
1 cup rolled oats
2 eggs
3/4 cup dark brown sugar
1-2/3 cups whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons melted butter
(I seldom have buttermilk around when I need it so I frequently use plain yogurt with whole milk added to duplicate the consistency of buttermilk which is what I did with this batch. Worked great.
For the flour, I've used whole wheat, spelt, oat, or some unbleached white flour in combination with one of the aforementioned. All seem equally yummy in the end product.)
For this recipe there's a need to think ahead a little bit because you start the night before by mixing your buttermilk and oats together, covering and letting them take a snooze in the refrigerator over night.
In the morning, preheat oven to 400 degrees. Grease the muffin tins.
In medium mixing bowl, beat eggs slightly, then add the brown sugar and beat until well blended.
Add the buttermilk/oatmeal mixture, then the flour, baking soda, salt and melted butter. Beat until batter is well mixed.
Fill the muffin tins about three-quarters full. Bake for 15-20 minutes. Remove from pans and cool slightly on racks. Serve warm on a blustery, cold morning. Or any other time. Makes 16 muffins.
I was fortunate to grow up in a very large extended family. My mom was one of seven children and my grandparents and all their married children lived in the same good-sized town. Even though I had only one brother, my childhood was spent surrounded with many, many cousins, aunts and uncles and my grandparents, all of whom I saw weekly if not more often.
One get together that was a tradition for the whole clan for all my growing up years was our Christmas Eve celebration at Uncle Frank and Aunt Helen's house. Uncle Frank had the distinction of being the first born of the seven kids; much to his chagrin, he was the only male child followed by six females.
Uncle Frank and Aunt Helen were the most well-to-do of the family. Not that Uncle Frank didn't work for his prosperity. When he was just thirteen, he started working in a small auto repair shop next door to where Grandma and Grandpa lived. By the time he was forty, he owned the business which by then had become a thriving enterprise.
The basement of my uncle's house was finished off into a very classy "rec room" complete with fireplace, comfortable furniture and a home bar. Not at all like the basement of our house which was . . . well, a basement.
The party on Christmas Eve was pretty much the same every year. We all dressed up (haven't we lost something these days when we all dress so casually no matter the occasion?) in special Christmas outfits, and each family brought a festive dish to pass. Uncle Frank and his family provided the liquid libations for both adults and children.
What a group we made. At first we numbered probably around 28, adults and kids. As the years went by and more little ones were born, our ranks swelled to about 36; sixteen adults and twenty children.
Other than eating a lot of good food, I can't remember anything specific we did on those Christmas Eves. The night was very low key and enjoyable. When we cousins were little we played the usual games, got into the usual squabbles and probably drove the adults crazy. As we grew older, we entered into more discussions, both with each other and our elders. Now that I think back on it, I guess it was pretty amazing that that many family members got along so well and could spend an evening together with no one having too much to drink and/or behaving in an undesirable way. (Well, perhaps there were a couple or three of the men who enjoyed the free spirits more than they would have under other non-holiday circumstances, but everyone was jovial and happy, and a couple of the wives would now and then commandeer the car keys before heading home.)
Heading home. Ah, that was the part of the evening that always caused me much angst. For some reason, I had the idea Santa wouldn't stop at our house if we weren't home and all tucked safely in bed. I was just sure we would fail to get home before Santa got to us on his route. You have no idea how anxious I was as I sat with my face pressed up against the cold car window scanning the heavens as we drove the few miles home. My eyes were peeled searching for a lit up sleigh pulled by reindeer racing across the night sky. I never did spot Santa's entourage (thank goodness as I'm sure I would have burst into hysterical tears if I had) on our way home. My brother and I probably made it out of our festive duds, on with our p.j.s and into bed faster than any other night of the year. Knowing it was okay for Santa to arrive since we were home, we quickly fell asleep thinking of the fun time we'd just had with all of our cousins, Grandma and Grandpa, and aunts and uncles on yet another Christmas Eve.
Dear daughter stopped over a little after mid-day today and asked her dad if he wanted to use her plow truck (which she had driven in today) to do any plowing around our place. So he sent her on her way into her office in town in my little Toyota and she left the truck and plow here for him to play with. Five inches of snow, a truck with a nine-foot plow blade . . . what man could resist? I didn't see him for the next hour.
I thought I'd get our Christmas tree up and decorated today but it didn't quite happen. Hubby helped me get it in after lunch but we decided to wait until after dark to put the lights on thinking it would be easier to see if we were getting them spaced evenly when it was dark.
So after dinner tonight we did string the lights up, but I decided to wait until tomorrow to put on the ornaments and the rest of the decorations. I need to go to bed early tonight. Although I thought I had a soft landing when I did my pratfall on the driveway yesterday, seems I have several muscles in various parts of my body that have been complaining loudly all day today, and I think a good (long) night's sleep is in order.
Chicken Mama stopped here for a dinner of tossed salad, spaghetti with meat sauce and a glass of good red wine with us tonight. She also brought (ta-dah!) a copy of her 2011 photographic calendar for us to see. Speaking purely objectively (ahem), we were very impressed. Besides the fact that her photos are gorgeous, she implemented a little different twist that I've never seen done on a calendar before. I think it's going to be a very saleable item for her. Unless I misunderstood, she's going to put up a video showing a flip-through of the calendar on her blog site.
Cross another week off your calendar on the countdown to Christmas. Only two more weeks to go. Yikes, don't know about you, but I gotta get crackin'!
Why is it that even though we spend a day doing a multitude of tasks, sometimes at the end of it we feel like we've gotten nothing accomplished? This feeling is plain hogwash because, of course, we have gotten a lot done. I think this sense of unease is because (as a fellow blogger recently said) the things we got done weren't the things we WANTED to get done. Aha! Now there's something for you to put in your pipe and smoke on.
Yep, for me today was a "gotten nothing accomplished" day. I went steadily all day long but never did get to those boxes of Christmas decorations that have been crammed into corners of our small livingroom or the Christmas tree that we got last weekend but is still leaning forlornly in the garage.
Our weather has given us temperatures in the single digits for the past several days. Just plain cold! However, now we're told to expect a 40% chance of snow overnight, 80% all day tomorrow and then 60% tomorrow night. Oh, gollygeewhiz, I do hope we get a bunch of the white stuff.
The snow we've had left on the ground after the rains came a while ago has seemed to be evaporating into the air, and we truly don't have much of a covering now. I'm so green with envy over the wonderfully beautiful snowfalls other parts of the country are getting. Sue at Garden Notes 1010 in northern Michigan just got her first snow, and it looks so gorgeous in her blog pictures that I begged to come live with her for a while. (Regardless of what arrangement we gals might come to, I have a strong suspicion our husbands might not vote the same way.) Guess I'll just have to keep my fingers crossed for my own beautiful snowfall. Tomorrow? Huh-huh? Puuuleeeze??
Regardless of snowfall or not, I just know tomorrow will be a day that generates better vibes on this here (undecorated) homestead. And if we DO get the predicted snow, I'll finally have some pretty pictures to post!
We made a trip to the big city today. Main purpose was to get new tires put on our Suburban. While there, hubby asked that they check the alignment also because he suspected it might be a little off. Well, just like us, it was MORE than a little off. In total, we were at the auto shop three and one-half hours waiting for the work to be done.
No problem for hubby. He spent quite a bit of time out on the work floor kabitzing with the mechanics and in the tire shop learning all he ever wanted to know about tires currently available.
No problem for me. (Oh, yeah?) I took a bagful of knitting I'd been itching to sit and work on. Small problem for me. (Oh, yeah.) I left the *&#% pattern at home.
Actually, the three and a half hours got V-E-R-Y long for both of us. We got up at 4 a.m. so we could leave at 5:30 to arrive at the auto shop at the appointed time of 8 a.m. when they said they could get us right in. And we should be out and on our way in an hour or hour and a half, they said. Oh, well. The important thing is we got the job done, and do feel really good about the shape the old Suburban is in for the winter.
All the time spent on the vehicle definitely cut into the time we had left for other shopping we planned on doing. And did I mention there were A LOT of other people out doing their Christmas shopping? Ooooh, yeah. We did the other most important things on our list but found by mid-afternoon, we were both so pooped and over-worried about the other bumper to bumper drivers on the slippery road that we wanted to head home.
How many deer did we see on the way home, most of which was driven in the dark? Not more than 200-300. No, I'm kidding, but suffice to say they were thick out there with many smooshed ones on the shoulder. We had only one group of three dash across the highway in front of us that caused me to grab the oh-shoot-handle and slam my foot through the floor board. (I was in the passenger seat at the time so neither maneuver did much good.)
My dear husband just brought me an amaretto and ginger ale tall one so I'm now going to go get my jammies on, put my feet up in my recliner, relax and read a new quilt magazine.
Back to home duties tomorrow.
You might ask why there are only two lonely little muffins in the above picture? (Geesh, they really don't look like much, do they?) That's how many are left. No, no, no, the two of us did not consume 22 muffins this morning. The recipe only makes 16, and beyond that I divide it in half for us. (So yes, we both ate three, but hey, they were small! And sooo good. I can guarantee these two will not last the day.)
