I’m on the keto lifestyle (which means I’m living on Jesus and butter in my coffee) and I write this with a watering mouth. I’m like a dog. My son has been waking up early and so I’ve been bringing him into our bed to cuddle. He puts his little arm around me and we all three drift off to sweet slumber. Not really. We lay there and pray that Mateo will fall asleep again. Instead he pulls my hair, kicks his papi, jumps around and says “hi” on repeat. The sleep deprivation has led to my not making the best nutritional decisions. Which leads me to the inspiration for this post.
Food has always been a big part in my life. Mom’s lasagna, dad’s chicken cordon bleu, my grandmother’s rolls. Even in middle school, when we were tight on money and I would feel bad asking my mother for lunch money, I’d just order a chocolate chip cookie for 50 cents and move about my business.
I’ve mentioned before that I grew up in Indiana. I started baking there very young. In Freshman Home Economics class, when my peers were making chocolate chip cookies, I made Boston Cream Pie or a more intense dessert. This has stuck with me for multiple reasons. Reason #1 being that I love me some sugar. Sugar, sugar, how you get so fly? #2, baking has always been instrumental in my life. Now, its take on more of a whimsical role, but for awhile it wasn’t. For awhile, it was necessity.
My father owned a home building company while I was growing up. When a home was sold, we were living the good life. Trips to Disney Land, an “allowance”, new clothes.However, cold Indiana winters would cause the ground to freeze. Combine that with the fact that basements are a thing in Indiana would result in work being slow and drinking would became my dad’s favorite pastime. My mother would work two jobs and was never home, and when she was, she was understandably exhausted.
Without having a parental figure around to help get groceries or make something to eat (not to mention that I am uniquely stubborn) I decided to make my own damn food.
My first memory of being in the kitchen, I was about eight years old. I remember being hungry and not being able to find anything to eat. So, I baked. I decided to try to make muffins. At that age, I wasn’t aware what a fraction was. I remember seeing a fraction and thinking 2/3 cup meant two or three cups – baker choice. I assumed as long as I stayed with the smaller option on every choice, I’d be okay. Needless to say, my first muffins were a soupy mess. Soon, my mother arrived and try to help me salvage the remains, but instead ended up teaching me fractions (mostly matching numbers from recipes to cups but let a girl live).
Soon, I was baking muffins like a pro. My sisters were always requesting for me to make them (partly because they were tasty, partly because my sisters were lazy, and partly because they knew a compliment would get them anywhere). I remember thinking that whenever I had people come to my house, they deserved a cake and constantly baking for anyone that came. I think they all assumed my mother had made the cakes, I never corrected them.
Baking is still a massive part of my life. Trying new desserts as my husband and I travel around has been one of my favorite things (obviously). Letting a waitress or waiter pick our desserts or asking someone how a sweet has become part of their lives is inspiring. We are not unique to think that Monday morning donuts or Sunday morning cinnamon rolls are a perfect family and friends treat. Every walk of life has a sweet tooth. From Kesar Peda to tres leches (made every year on my husbands birthday) to puppy chow (a sweet treat after every major tennis tournament I was in) to ice cream cake or slushies. Sugar will set your soul free (this is not sponsored by Big Sugar – but it could be, ammiright). From one home to another, learn the story behind the dessert and you will open your eyes to a lifestyle, a love, a new passion in a different, beautiful taste of heaven.
I wanted to share with you all the recipe for the muffins I would make. They saved me and made me bad ass at third grade math. If I can make them, so can you 🙂
- 2 cups flour
- 2/3 cup sugar
- 1 T. baking powder
- 1/2 tsp salt (I use sea salt)
- 1 egg
- 2/3 cup whipping cream (I typically combine with some milk, mostly because I ran out of the whipping cream once and never looked back)
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- 1/2 cup canola oil
Heat oven to 400 degrees and line muffin pan with liners (or spray it like the gypsy soul you are).
Combine all the dry ingredients with a whisk (or a fork, because you’re lazy like I am, but its important to get some air in that combination).
Combine all wet ingredients.
Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients until just combined (don’t over stir, you zealous puta).
Pour into the tray and stick it in the oven for about 13 – 15 minutes until golden brown.
Enjoy and think of me, being 8 years old, doing exactly what you just did.
Also! you can always add chocolate chip cookies, blueberries, cheese, your soul, whatever you have on hand.