blueberry muffins {with toasted coconut}

. . .

Guess what? 2.0 has admitted that it is possible that an iPhone isn’t the worst purchase I could ever make. That’s basically a stamp of approval in my books. AND he hardly rolled his eyes when he said it mumbled it. I think his change of heart has come about because:

  1. I’ve talked about nothing but iPhones for six weeks straight,
  2. you have collectively applied more Apple-related peer pressure than I ever thought possible, and
  3. I have been speaking in a Siri voice for about eight days now.

I think the Siri voice was the kicker.

So now, as I’m talking to myself in my automated Siri voice, I’m all: do I buy an iPhone now? Or do I wait until the iPhone 5 comes out? Do I get a white one? Or a black one? And what sort of protective case should I get? Because everyone gets a case. And then I think: what would Kanye do? But then I remember that Kanye has people. They just figure this stuff out for him so he can focus on tweeting about his Magic Company. And then I think: I need people. Which leads me to wonder: do I need an iPhone to get people? Aaaaaand then we’re back to where I started.

And, people, I get that these are not real problems. I do. But I also get that I’m writing about sh*t like toasted coconut on this here blog, so iPhones share the same sort of relevance, don’t you think?

So, as I ponder which iPhone to get (and when), and where to get myself some people, I give you these blueberry muffins. They are super yummy. And like all muffins, best served warm and slathered with butter. There’s a little lemon in there, and also: toasted coconut. Because almost everything tastes better with toasted coconut. I even put a little of the coconut on top, but you don’t have to. Oh, and uh, if you do, only put a few springs on top, and press ‘em in to the batter so they don’t burn. Trust me.

. . .

Blueberry Muffins with Toasted Coconut - print and bake

  • 1/2 cup shredded, unsweetened coconut
  • 3/4 cup white sugar
  • 3/4 cup whole wheat flour
  • 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 2 teaspoons baking powder
  • 1 teaspoon lemon zest
  • 1/3 cup vegetable oil
  • 1 egg
  • 1/3 to 1/2 cup milk
  • 1 cup blueberries, fresh or frozen

Begin by toasting the coconut: toast the coconut in a dry skillet over medium heat, stirring often, until golden. (Keep an eye on it, coconut burns easily.) Set aside and allow the coconut to cool completely.

Preheat oven to 375°F degrees. Grease or line muffin tins.

Whisk together the sugar, flours, salt and baking powder in a large bowl. Stir in the lemon zest and toasted coconut. Place oil in a 1 cup measure, and then add the egg and enough milk to make one cup. Mix into the dry ingredients. Fold in the blueberries.

Fill muffin wells about 3/4 full and bake 20-25 minutes, until golden on top and a cake tester comes out clean.

hot mess chocolate cake

. . .

Yesterday, I went to the college where I will be starting baking school in the fall. I received an email last week asking if I’d like to attend an information session entitled: Are You Ready For College? Like J-Lo, I go hard or go home, so I immediately signed up for the session. Sure, I’m currently teaching in a post-secondary program, but being a student again is a totally different thing. And since I’d never actually stepped foot on the campus before, I figured it would be the first step in winning at school becoming a good student.

Turns out only three other people were wondering if they are ready for college next fall. Two teenagers and a man in his mid-twenties sat at a long conference table beside me. The two session leaders discussed the diversity in age at the college. They were looking at me the whole time, and kind of nodding. They also discussed how that diversity impacts classes – how there might be a mature student up front waving a hand in the air and asking a question every five minutes, but that’s awesome, and not annoying. The two teenagers glanced my way. Then session leaders talked about the importance of time management – especially for people planning to work while in school, or those with children. And again, they were looking at me. I resisted the urge to yell, “wait, kids suck! I DON’T have kids. Are ya with me, homies? Bounce wit me.” Because I didn’t want to intimidate the teenagers with my awesomeness.

I asked if a Justin Bieber binder might be a good idea for taking notes, and the session leaders nodded and said that yes, it would probably be a good idea. They gave us brochures and pamphlets. And then they asked if we’d like to see where we would be studying. I blurted out, “oh my god, yes,” before any of the youngsters could protest. So, after touring the plumbing and power engineering shops, I got a tour of the kitchens and the bakery. Oh, AND THE CHOCOLATE ROOM. And by the end of the session, I thought: I’m totally going to do this.

So, to celebrate the fact that I am, indeed, ready for college, I give you this cake. This perfectly imperfect cake. This cake isn’t structured or refined. And like me, it won’t win a beauty pageant. It’s old school. It is a hot mess. It uses a microwave, mofo. But I’m pretty sure you’re gunna like it. It’ll grow on you just like I did. Because it’s delightful.

This cake is basically a reversed lava cake. It is sweet and chocolatey. Perfect with a tall glass of milk. We’re talkin’ about a one-bowl chocolate cake, topped with what is essentially hot, chocolate pudding. You need to assemble the cake while it’s still warm, and then you’re going to slather the topping on while it’s still hot. It will seal in the moisture. And that topping will run all over the serving plate.

Don’t worry. I think you’re ready for it.

. . .

Hot Mess Chocolate Cake – adapted from a recipe with unknown original source - print and bake

The secret to this moist cake is the pudding-like topping which should be applied while the cakes are still warm and the sauce is still hot. The cake should be assembled on the intended serving plate.

Yields one 2-layer 9-inch cake.

For the cake:

  • 1 1/2 cups sugar
  • 1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 cup cocoa
  • 1/2 cup canola oil
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla
  • 2 eggs
  • 1 1/4 cups milk

For the filling/topping:

  • 1 1/2 cups sugar
  • 3 tablespoons cornstarch
  • 4 1/2 tablespoons cocoa
  • 1 1/2 cups boiling water
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla
  • 1 tablespoon butter

Begin by making the cakes:

Grease two 9-inch round cake pans and line with parchment paper. (To line with parchment paper, trace the pans onto a sheet of parchment paper and cut out. Trim to fit in bottom of pans.) Preheat oven to 350°F.

Combine all of the above listed cake ingredients (sugar, flour, cocoa, oil, baking powder, vanilla, eggs and milk) in the bowl of a stand mixer and mix for 2-3 minutes to combine, being sure to scrape down the sides of the bowl midway through. Divide batter equally between the the two prepared baking pans and bake 30-35 minutes, or until a cake tester comes out clean.

Allow to cool for five minutes on racks until removing from pans. (Don’t forget to remove the parchment paper as well.) As the cakes are cooling, prepare the topping.

To make the topping:

Combine the sugar, cornstarch, cocoa and boiling water in large microwave-safe bowl, mixing well to combine. Microwave for 3-4 minutes stirring occasionally. The mixture will thicken and rise – it will become almost pudding-like.

Once the mixture has thickened, remove from microwave and stir in the vanilla and butter. Allow to cool for a minute or two before applying to the still-warm cakes. Stir the mixture before applying to the cakes.

To assemble the cake:

Place one of the cakes on a serving platter or cake stand. The topping is runny, so I would recommend using a platter or stand with a lip to prevent spill-over. Spoon some of the filling onto the top of the cake and spread. Let it absorb into the cake a little. Spoon on more filling and gently spread until you’ve got a good coating of filling on the cake. Place the second cake on top of the first, pressing gently to secure. Allow to sit for a minute so the cakes adhere. Then begin spooning the topping over top of the cakes, gently spreading with a spatula, and allowing it to run over the sides. The topping is runny – spoon/drizzle in small quantities until you feel the cake can take no more! Allow to cool.

Extra topping? Pour it over some ice cream! (Yum!)

sugar cookies and a sort of love letter

. . .

Dear 2.0,

I love you. I love you right hard like. I love you in a way that squeezes you tight and refuses to let go. Even if you squirm a lot. And you might, on occasion, wonder how you landed this here piece of awesome. But guess what? You’re kind of awesome too. For example, on our second date, when I drooled on my pants, you seemed totally unfazed.

And the other night? When I told you that I was going to become famous and walk the red carpet with Kiefer Sutherland (because we’re Canadian royalty)? You nodded and said, “yes, honey.” When I tell you I’m going to be a very famous published author, you keep nodding. And when I say, “no, really, some people think I’m already famous,” you say, “I know you are, honey.”

Most mornings, you bring me coffee in bed. And the laptop. And a cat. And when I’m bustin’ a move – generally takin’ sh*t to the next level – you are very supportive. When I do my happy dance, freestyle like a ninja, or get my swerve on? You make the effort to look enthusiastic.

You are really nice to your family. And mine. And you do stuff for our mothers. You’re really nice to the kitties. And the birds in our back yard.

Also, you hardly batted an eye when I told you I was going to head to baking school next year. Not even when I said I was considering the purchase of a Justin Bieber binder to fit in with the cool kids. You’ve got to be about the kindest, most loyal, and darling man I’ve ever met. And you are damn funny. Not as funny as I am, but still. Damn funny.

So, yah, I’m awesome. But you’re holding your own. Maybe you can walk the red carpet with Kiefer and I. I’m not promising. I’d have to discuss it with Kiefer first.

Sincerely,

movita beaucoup

. . .

Sugar Cookies with Royal Icing

My favourite recipes for sugar cookies and royal icing (using meringue powder) can be found here, on the Joy of  Baking website. Or here’s a little tutorial on making royal icing that I found over on University of Cookie. (That site, by the way, is money. If you like cookies – and I know you do – you’ve gotta hang out there.)

white chocolate cherry scones

. . .

Lately, 2.0 and I hardly get to see one another. We are like ships passing in the night. We are both wrapped up in our jobs, the drudgery of the day to day. He leaves early in the morning for work, and I arrive home when he’s ready for bed. He works weekdays, and I work weekends. We kiss good morning, and kiss goodnight, but the rest of our days are separate.

I’ve been thinking back to when I first met 2.0 – that was over three years ago. I wasn’t really into baking before meeting him. Cooking was mostly a matter of sustenance. But once I started cooking for 2.0, I just couldn’t stop. And then I started writing about it, and photographing it all. And in the fall I’m heading to baking school. Oh, how that man has changed my life! (And my waistline.)

Six months after we met, 2.0 bought a house for us. And as I sit here, in our sweet, sweet home, marvelling at the man who has changed my life, the man who has made me as happy as I have ever been, I wonder what I would be without him. And I also think back to that special time in a relationship when neither party would even consider poppin’ a floofy in front of the other. When a backdoor breeze, if you will, was unthinkable. When neither party was left wondering: who let the dog out?

And sure, it would be nice to go back in time. But you can’t go back. No, sister, you cannot. So I seek solace in the knowledge that should I turn to 2.0 and whisper, “sweet mother of all that is good and pure, what just died?” He will most certainly reply, “it was one of the cats.

Like other things that pass in the night, these scones won’t last long on your kitchen counter. The smooth white chocolate balances out the tart dried cherries. They are lovely with tea; light and not overly sweet. Great for breakfast, or a midday snack. And perfect for sharing with someone who’s always ready to blame the cat.

. . .

White Chocolate Cherry Scones – adapted slightly from The Lesley Stowe Fine Foods Cookbook - print and bake

Yields about 16 scones.

  • 1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
  • 2 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
  • 2 teaspoons sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon sea salt
  • 6 tablespoons cold butter, cut into small cubes
  • 1/4 pound (125 grams or heaping 3/4 cup) chopped white chocolate chunks (1 cm chunks)
  • 1/4 pound (125 grams or heaping 3/4 cup) chopped dried cherries
  • 3/4 cup buttermilk
  • 1 egg, beaten

Preheat oven to 400°F (200°C). Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, sugar and salt. Using your fingers, work in the butter, rubbing the ingredients together until the mixture resembles a coarse meal – a few slightly larger butter lumps are just fine. Toss in the chocolate and cherries, using hands to gently combine. Pour in the buttermilk and stir until just combined.

Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface. Roll out to 1 inch thickness, and then cut out into 2 inch rounds. Place scones on the prepared baking sheets, and brush tops with the beaten egg. Bake until lightly golden, about 10-12 minutes.

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