Blueberry Almond Muffins (Paleo)

The light came in through a window behind my back, over the sink and past the counter where my grandpa would make breakfast sausage in the mornings. Next to that was the fridge, decorated humbly with only a few cards. On the wall hung an off-white phone, it's cord long and tangled from use. The counters and the oven door were a faded tawny orange color, the wooden cabinets a deep mahogany, with golden stain--or at least that's how it is my memory. They're given no help from the rusty colored vinyl floors, which reflect an extra orange glow onto everything in the room. 

I sit in a kitchen chair with metal legs and a faux leather cushion. My grandma has pulled my hair back into a pony tail but it's like you would expect from any toddler: the stray wisps are everywhere, escaping the elastic ponytail holder and doing their own thing. That's where time is frozen: I'm pouring fresh blueberries into a bowl of batter, while my grandpa snaps a picture. The mixing bowl, bigger than my head, is also orange. Daringly, I'm wearing no apron, just a floral dress with puffy, short sleeves (it is the '90s). 

If it weren't for that picture, I wouldn't remember this day. Actually, I'm not sure if I do remember this day--my memories from being in this house are fleeting, single moments that fade and disappear before they really emerge. But because of this photo, I feel like I remember making those muffins. Not just those muffins, but many muffins. I feel like I remember preparing that same recipe every time I visited, setting my fate as a baker early. 

Many years later (and many times in-between), I would go back to visit. Everything was as it had been: orange vinyl, white phone, that dated oven door. Most of the cards on the fridge were the same, only a few were added to the mix. This picture sat in a frame in the living room, amongst 20 or 30 others. My grandma told me that when my younger cousins found the photo, they asked her if they could also learn to make muffins. Instead she taught each of them a different recipe, leaving her legacy behind in the whisks and folds of homey pastries.

Blueberry Almond Muffins (Paleo)

Paleo, Gluten-Free, Grain-Free    |   Caitlin Sherwood    

Sweet blueberries are accented by toasted almonds in this tender muffin.

Yields: 6    |    Total Time: 45 minutes

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Ingredients:

• 1 cup almond flour
• 1/4 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/16 teaspoon of salt
• 2 tablespoon raw honey
• ½ cup canned coconut milk, full fat
• 1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla
• 2 tablespoon coconut oil, melted
• 1 egg
• ¼ cup fresh blueberries (fresh or frozen)
• 2 scant tablespoons cassava flour
• 1/4 cup slivered almonds

Directions:

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F and fit a muffin pan with 6 muffin liners.
2. Next, in a small bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients: almond flour, cassava flour, salt, baking soda.
3. In a separate medium-sized bowl, whisk together the wet ingredients: honey, coconut milk, vinegar, vanilla, melted coconut oil, and eggs.
4. When the wet ingredients are fully combined, add the dry ingredients to the wet 1/2 at a time, stirring in-between. A batter will form. Once no clumps remain, fold in the blueberries gently.
5. Using two spoons, scoop the batter into muffin liners until they are about 5/6 of the way full. Top each muffin with a sprinkle of slivered almond and then bake for 25-35 minutes, until a toothpick comes out clean when inserted into the middle. Set on cooling wrack to cool 10 minutes.

Double Chocolate Hot Cocoa Mix Recipe

Utah captured my heart this Spring. Spring in Utah is a funny thing-- not really spring, March in the desert is more like half winter and half summer.  

When the morning wakes you, you’ll find your sleeping bag pulled as high around your head as it can go, covering your cheeks and leaving just enough space so to breath. Eventually, motivated by the thought of coffee, or tea, or anything warm, you'll peek out, and see the snow, still coming down in oversized flakes that fall impossibly slow. Lighting that two-burner camping stove will never sound so good.  

Outside, there is a different view in every direction, but all of them will make you feel small — just a tiny human, standing on a slice of something far too large to imagine. Cliffs, a deep crimson color, tower above. They sit gallantly on piles of sand, like the earth's version of sandcastles, displaying layer on layer of dirt. Each layer seems to expose something about the world, every band of sand marking an era of the past. At their feet grow short and twisted juniper trees, struggling to grow.  

When the water boils, and you pull it from the stove, the pot will spout a tower of steam into the air above, melting the snow as it falls. When you turn around, you’ll see a mountain range all Coloradans know well, crisp and white, capped with ice. They look bigger from Utah, surrounded by flat plains, deep rifts, and the occasional rock spire. You’ll know what I mean when you see it for yourself: it’s as if those mountains scrape the clouds off of the sky, catching them on their peaks and hanging on.  

The snow will eventually stop (it’s spring, after all), and the unshielded sun will melt every white patch away. The desert sand will suck up any moisture that remains, and by 10 the ground will be dry again, as if nothing happened. That's when you’ll sit back in a folding chair, a rich mug of homemade hot chocolate in hand.  

There is nothing to feel other than awe. Belittled by the jagged, barren canyons and cliffs on one side, humbled by the majestic peaks to the other. Small-- small and awestruck. 

Here is a beverage to drink on those chilly mornings at camp, or around the campfire in the evening — Double chocolate Hot Cocoa. It’s made with bittersweet chocolate and cocoa powder (that’s the “double” part). Dehydrated milk adds creaminess, so even when you’re out exploring you don’t have to remember the milk! Though, if you are are really prepared, top your mug with a dollop of whipped  cream or marshmallows, and consider a splash of whiskey. Sitting around the campfire has never been so sweet!

Double Chocolate Hot Cocoa Mix Recipe

Published March 27, 2016 by Caitlin Sherwood

Serves: 8   |    Active Time: 20 minutes

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Ingredients:

1-3 tablespoons coconut sugar (depending on how sweet you would like your cocoa — 1 for not very sweet, 3 for more sweet)

Pinch salt

1/4 cup bittersweet chocolate chips or chunks

1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder

1/3 cup dehydrated non-fat milk powder

To make cocoa: 8 ounces of water; and whipped cream or marshmallows for serving

Directions:

1. Place coconut sugar, salt, and chocolate in blender or food processor and pulse until a fine powder is formed.
2. Add cocoa powder and milk powder, and pulse blender again, just until everything is incorporated.
3. Store cocoa mix in a air-tight jar.
4. To make cocoa: Bring 8 ounces of water to a boil. Whisk 2 heaping tablespoons of cocoa mix with the water until dissolved. (To get the froth shown in the images, use a hand-held milk aerator). Pour cocoa into mug, and top with whipped cream or marshmallows as desired.

Crustless Spinach, Artichoke & Aged Cheddar Quiche

Update: This recipe has new photos as of 3/22/2019. Same recipe! :)

I am making a resolution right now, today. Will you join me? I'm resolving to have brunch more often. 

I recently looked at my calendar and realized a year ago, some of my closest friends had come over for a spring brunch and I had actually said, "We should do this every season. Like spring brunch, summer brunch-picnic, fall brunch, and winter brunch." They all nodded in agreement, delirious on mimosas, coffee, or maybe just morning air. It was settled. We were going to brunch more.

That was a year ago, and now I'm looking back thinking, what happened?? Brunch slipped through my fingers, as I got caught up in life and forgot the glory that is late morning. The smell of freshly brewed coffee? A plate full of quiche? Morning light trickling through a big window? All of these things make my heart sing. So this is my ode to brunch, and my resolution to brunch more: Spinach, Artichoke & Aged Cheddar Crustless Quiche.

Maybe with it written down, I'll actually make it happen. Will you brunch with me? For you, for your mornings? Just think of the late morning sun. 

Crustless Spinach, Artichoke & Aged Cheddar Quiche

Published February 15, 2016 by Caitlin Sherwood

Serves: 6   |    Active Time: 60 minutes

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Ingredients:

9 eggs

1 cup milk

1/2 cup aged white cheddar cheese, shredded

1/2 pound frozen chopped spinach, thawed

1 can artichoke hearts, strained

1/2 onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 teaspoon coconut oil

Salt & Pepper

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease a pie pan, or line one with parchment paper. Set aside.
2. Chopped artichoke hearts. Place artichokes and spinach in a mesh sieve and press the excess water out as best you can. This will help the quiche set. Place strained spinach and artichokes in a bowl.
3. Now, heat the coconut oil over medium heat in a skillet and sauté the diced onion and minced garlic until the onion is translucent. Use a spatula to scrape onions and garlic into bowl with spinach. Stir mixture until onion is well distributed, then sprinkle the mixture into the pie pan, in an even layer.
4. Next, sprinkle the cheese mixture in the pie pan in an even layer.
5. Whisk the eggs and milk until frothy. Add a sprinkle of salt and a few cracks of pepper. Pour mixture over filling in pie pan, ensuring there is egg mixture filling all spaces.
6. Place in middle wrack of oven and bake until golden and puffy, about 45 minutes. Center should be set and there should be no runny eggs. Allow to cool for 5 minutes before slicing and serving.