Tuesday, July 24, 2012

The Holy Grail of Blueberry Muffins

Many years ago I somehow got the idea to google "To die for blueberry muffins" and came across this amazing recipe entitled "To Die For Blueberry Muffins." Funny how that works. I didn't want to dick around with all of the crappy blueberry muffin recipes - oh no no no.... Straight to the "to die for" ones for me! And I mean for god's sake...with a name like that they must be good, right? Right.

Turns out  they are. They are absolutely the best bakery-style blueberry muffin. Lots of loft, just the right amount of sweet. Light and airy but not too much so. Crispy, crunchy top. Bad for you, but "low fat" by Dunkin' Donuts standards. A definite winner.

Here in the great northeast, we're rounding out the end of blueberry season. Blueberries started ripening a bit early this year and the delicious blueberry plants that grow wild all over this area are more or less done producing. At the lake house where we spend a lot of our summer weekends, the grounds are covered in low-bush blueberries, as well as a few high-bush blueberry bushes that grow outside the windows. To top that off, there's an island in the middle of the lake called Blueberry Island that is virtually covered in blueberry bushes.

In the photo to the right, Ein and I are kayaking out to see if there are any blueberries ready to be picked (last year - the island is just to the left of his head, in the distance). This  year I didn't get the chance to go up the weekend the blueberries were ready, but Aj brought home a big Solo cup full of them. We munched on some, but there was still about half a cup left. Combined with almost 2 pints of blueberries I picked up at the local farm stand, I was looking for something to do with these tasty treats. Maine and NH blueberries are wonderful - a lot of times the wild ones are MUCH smaller than the kind you buy in the grocery store. Their flesh is firm and tart yet sweet. They aren't mushy at all like the over-ripe blueberries that often have to travel so far to reach Southern and Western states. They're a real ground-to-mouth pleasure.

So of course I remembered this recipe, which I made without hesitation and was once again impressed by the loft, texture and taste of these great muffins. I didn't use the streusel topping, but if you do make sure to use brown sugar instead of white and don't load it on or the muffins won't rise all the way. Though I haven't tried it, other commenters claim that the recipe is great with just about any kind of fruit substituted...so give it a shot and use what you have on hand! Even though this isn't my recipe, it's certainly one worth sharing.

Thursday, July 5, 2012


When you move to a new part of the country there are all kinds of things that get lost in translation. Like "blinker" versus "directional" or the New England classic "wicked". There's the difference between "chowda" and "chowder" and then....there is the New England version of "hot."  Not food hot, but weather hot. See, where I'm from in the dirty south, hot means over 98 degrees. Hot is when you open your car door and your hair singes. Hot is HOT. Here in New England, hot is somewhere between 80 and 95 degrees. Anything over that means you probably shouldn't leave your house.

Now...when I first moved to New England, I knew winters were going to be cold beyond anything I knew, but I wasn't prepared to have winter end and summer begin just to hear people bitching about how hot it was. Really? Two months ago you were sick of the miserable snow and now you're sick of the heat. To me, this was and still is mostly incomprehensible. The only reason winter in New England is tolerable is because of snow (which everyone else seems to hate). This past winter we almost had an entire winter season without snow, and I was not happy. But there's a silver lining in that we also had very few days where it hit the teens and negatives. So now it's summer, and I've got my little garden growing and the days average around 85 degrees, which, for July, seems a little obscene. Like... my home town is enjoying a solid 94 degrees while I sit in a house with only one window unit running to keep it cool.

All I can say is that if this is "hot", I love it. I love being able to walk around without feeling like I'm going to suffocate on the muggy, cotton candy heat of the southern summers. The nights cool down to the low 60s and the days mostly stay in the mid to high 80s. Every part of the country has its own perks, no doubt about it, but I am falling in love with the beautiful (and bountiful!) springs, mild summers, stunning falls and snowy winters of New England.

In fact, this time of the year brings a particularly great New England treat - wild blueberries. In the south, the wild blackberry brambles are absolutely delicious, and in New England the wild blueberries grow bountifully. We have a patch of what's called "low bush" blueberries in our back yard, and it gets bigger every year. The blueberries love the woodsy pine floor of our back yard and they make these tiny, cute little blueberries that are quite tasty and perfect for pancakes and muffins.

For the past two summers, I've made a blueberry tea with the blueberry leaves and about a half cup of blueberries. No matter where you are in the US, if you can get your hands on some blueberry plant leaves I'd recommend this light, antioxidant rich tea infusion. It's perfect for that summer day - whether it's 80 or 100 degrees.

Fresh Blueberry Tea Infusion

NOTE: You'll need to make this the day before you want to drink it.

  • A few blueberry stems with leaves
  • Half a cup of blueberries
  • 2 tbsp local honey
  • 1 sprig mint
  1.  Boil 8 cups of water until at a rolling boil. Add blueberry leaves and remove from heat.
  2. In a large pitcher, crush blueberries lightly with a fork.
  3. Drizzle 2 tbsp honey over blueberries.
  4. Add sprig of mint into pitcher.
  5. After 5-10 minutes, pour the hot water with the blueberry leaves in it into the pitcher.
  6. The mixture will look brown the first day, but by the second morning it will be a pleasant reddish blue. Strain (or use a pitcher with a tooth spout) and serve iced. Will stay good for 3-4 days.