Foodie Friday: Gingerbread Muffins

It appears that November weather has finally settled into Southwestern Pennsylvania. As I look out over the farm, the fields are covered in mist, there is a nip to the air, and the grey clouds overhead create a dreary gloom. Today is one of those days that I would like to curl up with my favorite quilt, a good book, a nice cup of tea, and a spiced sweet treat. However, duty calls, and once I finish writing to you, dear reader, I am off to the studio to make three batches of soap. If we complete our to-do list in a timely manner, I will bake a small batch of spicy, seasonal gingerbread muffins.

I don't often make sweet treats, especially of the spiced variety, because I will be the one to eat them. To be honest, I don't need the temptation or the calories. However, I have been craving fresh, warm gingerbread for almost a month. My daughter doesn't like anything sweet other than gob cake or Little Debbie Swiss Rolls. The Bibbed Wonder prefers no-bake cookies and has no palate for applesauce cookies, pumpkin anything, or gingerbread. They are a sad, boring lot with limited tastebuds. Sigh.

I found a recipe for delicious bakery-style gingerbread muffins years ago. The recipe is delightful, but I have only made it half a dozen times. Unless I am expecting company or we are attending a brunch, I can't justify making something only I enjoy. Today, if time permits, will be the exception. I look forward to the kitchen smelling like warm, spicy, sweet gingerbread. I also look forward to settling in with a nice cup of Almost Home tea from Broken Locust and reading a book. If not today, then tomorrow. Unless my bib-overall-wearing husband decides we must make soap on a Saturday. He gets twitchy this time of year and tends to go wild making soap to keep the shelves filled. This is not bad unless one craves a delightful treat that takes time to make.

Today, I will share my recipe for gingerbread muffins. If I can't make a batch for myself, I will live vicariously through you and hope you enjoy them as much as I do. Trust me, your kitchen will smell seasonal and festive. It's the perfect time of year to enjoy a special treat. I found this recipe on Jessie Bakes Treats during the height of the pandemic.

Gingerbread Muffins

Ingredients:

2 1/4 C all-purpose flour spooned and leveled

2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt

1 & 1/2 tsp ground ginger

2 tsp ground cinnamon

1/2 tsp ground cloves

1/2 C salted butter melted and cooled to room temperature

3/4 C brown sugar

1/2 C sweetened molasses

1/2 C milk at room temperature

2 large eggs at room temperature

1 tsp vanilla extract

coarse sugar for sprinkling on top

Directions:

Preheat oven to 425 F and line a muffin pan with liners.

Whisk flour, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and salt in a large bowl.

2 & 1/4 C all purpose flour,2 tsp baking powder,1/2 tsp baking soda,1/4 tsp salt,1 & 1/2 tsp ground ginger,2 tsp ground cinnamon,1/2 tsp ground cloves

Whisk together molasses, milk, eggs, butter, brown sugar, and vanilla extract in a medium bowl.

1/2 C salted butter, 3/4 C brown sugar, 1/2 C sweetened molasses, 1/2 C milk, 2 large eggs, 1 tsp vanilla extract

Add the wet ingredients to the dry. Mix just until combined using a rubber spatula.

Do not over-mix the batter, or the muffins will become dense.

Add the batter to the muffin pan, filling each muffin liner just over 3/4 full.

Sprinkle the coarse sugar on top of each muffin. This step is optional, but it adds a fantastic crunch to the muffins.

Bake for 5 minutes at 425 F, then lower the oven temperature to 350 F. Cook for an additional 15 minutes at 350 F or until a toothpick inserted into the middle of the muffin comes out clean.

Let muffins cool in the pan for 5 minutes before moving to a wire rack to cool completely.

On this seasonal November day, stay safe, be smart, eat delicious food that makes you happy, even if you are the only one who it makes happy, and keep washing your hands.

The Dark Side Of Goat Farming

Well, dear reader, it is officially breeding season on the farm. To date, two girls have had their conjugal visit with our stud muffin billy goat, Ace. Ace is now the only buck on the farm, thank goodness. Oliver, our Boer buck, went to live with our friends Pat and Sherry. Ollie has the job of producing beautiful babies with Pat and Sherry's small herd of Boer goats. He will do a fine job. Like his father, Abu, Ollie is very handsome and produces beautiful spotted kids. That makes Ace king of the mountain on our farm, and he relishes his position.

My bib overall-wearing buddy is in charge of the breeding schedule. My organized, anal-retentive, numbers-loving husband has created a spreadsheet to track who was bred and when. If everything goes as planned, we should have baby goats in late April. The Bibbed Wonder is trying to schedule a delivery every two weeks to spread out the busyness of the baby season and prohibit a free-for-all during delivery. There was a year when four girls were in labor at once. It was insanity, and there were babies everywhere!

Breeding season is a compilation of stench, never-ending funny noises, and a lot of moodiness and drama. Eric jokes that it is how he imagined our nearly two years of infertility treatments going, but the only accurate thing was the moodiness and drama. Sigh. He's a lot. Usually, the billy goat paces the fence line non-stop when the girls are ready for lovin'. This year, it is the opposite. My girls are the aggressors, and little Ace, who isn't so little, hangs out across the driveway with his friend Lestor, eating grass and playfully knocking heads. Ace only shows genuine interest in the ladies when he sees Eric coming with his collar and lead rope. Those two objects symbolize happiness for Ace. He stands quivering with anticipation while Eric fastens his collar.

He then struts, prances, and makes the funniest noises while he crosses the driveway to the barn. Eric tries to keep Ace away from him as he leads him, but Ace is a master at rubbing up against you, making you stink and smell like a billy. It's gross. The Bibbed Wonder has to strip on the porch because I don't want my house to smell like a billy goat. The Bibbed Wonder is indignant, but he complies.

Last night, Eric asked if I could help him with Jessica, aka Horns. Fly season is over, and we have decided to band her horns and remove them. The procedure is similar to banding a young billy. The vet assures us it is an adult goat's safest and best option. Horns is delightful with us but an absolute tyrant with the rest of the herd. We hope the horn removal goes smoothly and levels the playing field for the rest of the herd. After Horn's horns were banded, which was an easy process, it was time to bring Ace over to meet with our girl, Dot.

Dot spent the day pacing the fence line, calling to Ace, and trying to get his attention. She stood on her hind legs at the gate and bellered her desires across the driveway. Ace acknowledged her occasionally, but mostly, he ignored her. As he made his way across the driveway to the barn, Dot turned on the charm and stood on her hind legs, baaing loudly at the gate. When he disappeared inside the barn, Dot looked confused and disheartened. It is good that Dot is pretty because she is not leading the rest of the herd with her intelligence. It appeared as though a lightbulb went on over Dot's head, and she realized the focus of her desires was inside the barn. She took off running like a goat on fire.

What happened next is far too obscene to put into words—witnessing how babies are made taints my perception of my darling herd of gentle ladies. It's all tongue, weiner, sniffing, peeing, and the funniest noises I have ever heard. It's also aggressive and foul. My bib overall-wearing comedian husband stands and adds inappropriate commentary, much like I imagine a bad porn director would do. When Eric does this, I can't help but imagine him in a loud Hawaiian shirt with greasy hair and a mustache. Incidentally, this is how I imagine a porn director to look. A bib overall wearing Larry Flynt, if you will. Gross.

It doesn't take long for the deed to be over, but I always feel traumatized and like I need a shower when it's over. Dot seemed very interested in continuing the romance, so Eric had me lead Dot across the driveway to the boy's pasture. I didn't have to lead her; she more accurately dragged me along while following Ace. When it was all said and done, I smelled like a billy goat. Consider yourself lucky if you have never smelled a billy goat in rut. It is a scent that sticks in your nostrils for eternity.

When Eric fed and milked the goats this morning, Dot waited impatiently at the gate, ready to return to her barn, girlfriends, and feed trough. Eric has the unpleasant job of milking her after a night of romance with Ace. Insert a gagging noise. He claims she did the walk of shame and sheepishly faced her judgmental friends. Her stank made it evident to all what had occurred across the driveway. This made her popular with girls of low moral character. She wore her shame like a badge of honor. My girls are not always sweet.

On this chilly November day, stay safe, be smart, and be glad you are not a goat farmer during the breeding season; it is indeed dark and dirty around here. For the love of all that's holy, wash your hands. Billy goat musk is a scent you can't wash off.

Life Lessons

My darling girl when she was little, and things were easy.

As we move into the young adult years with our daughter, I see life lessons on the horizon for both her and myself. Growing up is hard. I have observed that the human condition remains the same throughout the generations. It is the setting that changes. I see my daughter struggling with many of the same issues I faced as a young adult: who am I, who will I become, what is important to me, who is essential to me, how do I fit into this life, what am I supposed to do? It's all eerily familiar. However, the world she navigates is much more complex and laid with boobie traps and guerilla warfare than the world I navigated. Unlike me, she faces challenges with grace, bravery, and an innate sense of self I did not possess until much later.

Doing the right thing is HARD; the older she gets, the more complex the choices and scenarios become. It is so much more than asking the new kid if they want to sit at your lunch table or being respectful when you feel disrespected. It is facing situations that nobody should face, knowing that the outcome might not be desired. She faces much more difficult challenges at her age than I ever did. I take my position as her role model very seriously. Yes, I continue to curse like a sailor, create a litany of foul names for the ass hat who cuts me off in traffic, and sing inappropriate songs to make myself giggle, but the big stuff, I try to be on my A-game. I try to do my best and follow my instincts for what is right. I also communicate to her my struggles because doing what is right is hard, and sometimes I feel uncomfortable while doing so, but in the end, I need her to know that I did what I did because it is the right thing to do. I have always taken a very real approach to parenting. I never tried to create the facade that I am perfect and have it all figured out. Instead, I take the attitude that we will figure out this thing called life together. I might not be perfect, but I act from my heart and do my best.

Watching her dip her toes into the sea of dating and the opposite sex has been...um, frightening. She has had her ups and downs with boys. Some boys have been people whom I imagined her with, and others...well, not so much. Although I have needed to be talked down on several different occasions, I have firmly believed that she is an intelligent young woman and that, in the end, it will all be okay. To date, she has not let me down. She may have given me a few grey hairs, but I am proud of her choices. Thankfully, she seems to have leveled off on the boy thing. She looks for authentic qualities in a partner and not just superficial ones. She has always done a superior job choosing friends, and I feel cautiously confident she will choose a boy with the same discerning attitude with which she chooses friends.

Navigating the social world of teenagers has always been tumultuous. However, today's teens face the real world and the digital world. Thank God cell phones were not a thing when I was a kid. My parents would have put me in a convent if they knew half of the shenanigans I got into. Not only are there no secrets, but one's mistake on a random Saturday night could follow one around for the rest of one's life. It's not child's play. There are so many levels of concern surrounding the digital age: bullying, sexting, online predators, catfishing, fake accounts, and add chats that are created exclusively to exclude one, and it is a social nightmare. The digital thing makes it very easy for people to be cruel. There is the feeling that one is wearing armor while hiding behind a keyboard. What one would never say to one's face suddenly becomes very easy behind a keyboard. I like to call it texting titanium balls. However, thankfully, my girl seems to have a level of "don't give a f#ck" that impresses even her dad. She has no issue identifying and walking away from a toxic situation. She makes me very proud.

I find myself struggling to let her handle difficult things without interfering. It's hard as a mom not to go into attack mode when some "less-than-kind person" is being mean to my baby. (It took me four tries and five Google searches to clean that up.) I also find it challenging to keep my attitudes and opinions to myself. Shockingly, I have strong opinions and am not afraid to voice them regarding the people I love...said with complete sarcasm. However, I know she has to walk her path, forge her way, make choices, and deal with the consequences to grow, mature, and become who she is meant to be. It's just so hard to go from the main protagonist in her life to a supporting character. Sigh.

I miss the days when she would come home outraged because someone said something mildly critical about her artwork, she had to sit with a boy at lunch instead of her best friend, or she was annoyed about not being able to finish crossing the monkey bars at recess. Yes, those were monumental at the time, but they were certainly easier than what we face today.

On this lovely, seasonal November day, stay safe and be smart. If you have little ones, embrace it for as long as it lasts (and that's not long enough). If you have older children, try to meet them where they are, set a good example, be real, and appreciate who they become because, honestly, it is a gift to watch them grow. Oh, and wash your hands. Parenting is dirty work.