Last night before I went to bed, I got out all of the ingredients to make these muffins so that I could make them when I got up this morning. NO, I am never, ever on top of things like this. I fly by the seat of my pants, which hasn’t always been the case, but life…life…life has a strange way of changing us. Okay, this is not a philosophical post. It IS, however, I page from the wall of weird.
Like I said, the kitchen was prepped so that I could make these muffins first thing in the morning. I was just going to jump out of bed and go downstairs to cook up a double batch of muffins. Why make 6-8 muffins when you can make 12-16? You need to allow plenty of room for error when you are going to photograph the outcome.
The alarm went off and I rolled over to turn it off. Often it takes me a while to wake up. I’m a slow waker upper; it’s generally always been that way. I plan ahead to allow for waking up time. Anyway, nature had some surprises today. I noticed that my room was dark, like ‘the sun has set’ dark. “Must be snowing,” I thought. Then, I realized that it was darker than it-must-be-snowing dark. It was more like it-must-be-raining dark. There is a difference between the two darks. Snowing dark casts a kind of lighter grayish dark because of the light reflecting from all of the whiteness. Raining dark is go-back-to-bed dark. Go-back-to-bed-and-get-some-more-sleep dark. So, I obeyed the rain and slept for another hour. The muffins could wait.
That extra hour of sleep was very eventful. I started dreaming. It was one of those twisted dreams where nothing really makes sense and when you wake up you try to make the dream make sense by categorizing the elements of the dream into symbolism. In short, my dream was about a personal struggle between good and evil. It was a typically chaotic dream and then suddenly there were slices of cake. Yes, cake. Pink cake to be exact, that was so delicious it was intensely mesmerizing. OH, and the slices of cake were being displayed in a shallow wooden case and a glass top along with vintage scarves and shawls. ?????
In my dream I asked the women who had made the cake how much a slice cost. They answered, “Twenty-seven to fifty-seven dollars a slice, depending on the size of the slice and the condition that it is in.”
There was no way I could afford such an extravagance, so I asked, “What would happen if I picked up a piece of that cake and it fell apart. How much would you charge me for just a small bite of it?”
“Oh, that would be free,” smiled the two women.
“Then I’ll take a bite,” I happily responded. “It looks as though one of those pieces is already falling apart and I only want a small bite.”
As dreams go, I started inviting all of the random people in my dream to come and have some cake. It was a truly magical cake. In short, the cake worked miracles. All of the bad people became good and all of the good people became even better people, mentoring those who needed more practice at being good.
A few minutes of dreaming about pink cake and all of the world’s problems were solved.
I am so weird.
Pink cake has absolutely nothing to do with this recipe for French Breakfast Muffins. However, it is not completely lost on me that warm muffins could go a long way in helping to make us happier people.
You can thank Erin at Table for Seven for potentially providing us with an answer to the beginnings of world peace. Thank you, Erin, for sharing such a delicious recipe. These muffins are moist and not overly sweet, despite the cinnamon/sugar coating. The addition of lemon or orange zest would be great in these muffins, also. It’s a basic recipe with lots of possibilities.
I’ve eaten five of these today. I am happy…and still weird.
|The rain changed to snow this afternoon. It made the muffins taste even better–like a ray of sunshine inside my house./|