This same time, years previous: spiced applesauce cake with caramel glaze, the quotidian (11.17.14), in my kitchen: noon, the quotidian (11.18.13), the quotidian (11.19.12), red lentil soup with lemon and spinach, orange cranberry bread.

I realize I posted about English muffins only a year ago, and that post after countless subpar experiments, but now I’m back, this time with one heck of a winner.

The other recipe is still quite good (it goes without saying that I try to make it a point not to share bad recipes, yes?), but this one is better than quite good. This one is nothing short of a revelation.

I found the recipe in that recipe book I told you about (and then someone — was it one of you?! — went and put it on hold at the library so I’m now accruing a fine, thank you very much), and have made the English muffins several times, most recently just this morning — a double batch.

The main things to know:

*It takes a sourdough starter. The book’s author includes a recipe for a starter, but since I use my own and have no firsthand experience with his method, I’m not including it here, sorry. I’m more than happy, though, to share my starter with anyone (local) who asks, and, if you’re into any baking whatsoever, you really, reallyreallyreally ought to look into getting a starter. They make all the difference.

*The dough is soft and supple (or “thoft and thupple” as we like to say). It’s easy to manage, and the making of it is punctuated with little breaks while the dough rests, which makes it the perfect baking project for a cozy winter morning.

*It’s fun! You get to fry yeasted dough like pancakes, which is super thrills, and then bake them, and all the little steps work together in the most logical and reliable fashion.

*The end result is soooo good. Buttery toasted tops and bottoms — the cornmeal adds texture and flavor — and an impossibly tender middle.

 I like to make bunches (thus the double recipe) and freeze them. Gently defrosted and heated just enough to take the chill off, I like to tear them open, spread them with butter, and then tuck a piece of ham inside.

And that, in my book, is a perfect breakfast.

Sourdough English Muffins
Adapted from Big Bad Breakfast: The Most Important Book of the Day by John Currence.

I’ve doubled the recipe. They’re so good that it doesn’t make sense to make just a single batch. Also, a doubled recipes uses the exact amount of starter that I have leftover after making bread, so there’s that.

1 cup each warm water and warm milk
1 tablespoon yeast
3 tablespoons sugar
3 cups each all-purpose flour and bread flour
1½ cups sourdough starter
6 tablespoons melted butter
4 teaspoons salt

Put the water, milk, yeast, and sugar in the bowl of your stand mixer (or regular mixing bowl). Stir briefly and let sit until bubbly, about 10 minutes. Add the all-purpose flour, mix to combine, and let sit for another 10 minutes. Add the remaining ingredients and mix for five minutes. If the dough is quite sticky (and mine always is), add more flour, a couple spoonfuls at a time, making sure it is completely absorbed before adding more. The dough should be quite sticky, but not too sticky, and definitely not dry. Cover and let rest for 45 minutes.

Scrape the dough onto a well-floured surface and fold a couple times until the blob of dough is smooth. Gently roll it out to about ½ inch thickness, or at least no more than that. Cut the muffins with a biscuit cutter, or a smooth-mouthed drinking glass. Place the cut muffins on pieces of parchment paper that you’ve sprinkled with cornmeal. Once all the muffins have been cut (and you’ve re-rolled and cut the scraps), sprinkle the tops with more cornmeal. Cover with a cloth and let rest for 45 minutes.

Place a couple cast-iron skillets, or whatever you use to make pancakes, on the stovetop and turn the heat to medium, or medium-low. Once the skillets are hot, coat the bottoms with a tablespoon or two of butter. Carefully, with minimal handling, arrange the muffins in the pan so they’re close, but not touching, and fry them for 3-4 minutes on each side, adding more butter (optional) when you flip them. (Depending on how many muffins you’ve made, and how many skillets you have going, you may have to do this in shifts.)

Transfer the grilled muffins to a parchment-lined baking sheet and, when the pan is full, bake them at 350 degrees for about 10 minutes.

Serve warm, with lots of butter and jam. Freeze the leftovers.

This same time, years previous: guayaba bars, official, the quotidian (11.16.11), peanut butter cream pie.

A few months back, my fridge developed an alarming and persistent rattle. It might last another five years, or another five days, but after seventeen years of reliable service, the end was clearly drawing nigh. My husband bought a replacement part to forstall the inevitable, and we began to research fridges. We had a few ideas, but still, we couldn’t bring ourselves to act. The fridge was working, after all.

And then the island happened. Standing on the far side of my now expansive workspace, I realized that, in order for the island to be fully useable and for the kitchen to feel balanced, I needed to turn the entire kitchen into, well, a kitchen. The desk needed to go, and —

Hey, wait! Would it work to put the fridge in that spot? In the old fridge’s space, we could put a small desk of some sort, and — be still my beating heart, o! — a coffee station.

Once I had a plan, things happened. First, lots more research. Second, a trip to a couple big box stores to see the actual fridge I’d chosen.

The one at Home Depot was on sale for $1,300, but the sales rep said that another sale was coming up in several days and it’d probably drop more. So we poked around in a second-hand appliance store and then, on a whim, popped into Ollie’s — my husband said they had a scratch-and-dent section. Lo and behold, they had the exact fridge we were looking for, brand new but with a few small dents, for just $900. We decided to think it over — the Home Depot sale was coming — and drove off. But we only got a couple miles down the road before turning around. There was no way Home Depot was going to shave 400 dollars off that fridge (and we were right — it only dropped a hundred). 

Despite my push for this fridge, I was rather ambivalent about it at first. Perhaps it was the hefty pricetag? Or maybe the niggling worry that we hadn’t made the best possible choice? Or just, the seismic shifts in my kitchen caused me to feel out of sorts?

Whatever the reason, I felt discombobulated and unsure. Was it too big? Too dark? Too out of the way? (We briefly — very briefly — considered recessing it into the side of the house). Also, for all it’s hugeness, I didn’t feel like it had a ton ton of room. Would it provide adequate storage for all my gallon jars and bulky pans and trays? And the freezer felt clunky. I could pile the drawers full when they were open, but if I went overboard, they wouldn’t close. (As opposed to my former top freezer which I could stuff and jam with impunity.)

But I persevered and, within a couple days, I was head over heels again.

Now whenever anyone walks in the house I drag them over to the fridge and make them stand there while I pull out the deep crispers (that I can see into!) and the huge cheese-meat drawer (that I stuff with eggs and cream cheese and butter, along with meats and cheeses) and the water dispenser (that we don’t use) and my leftovers shelf and pint jar shelf and quart jar shelf and the couple shelves I keep mostly empty so they’re always at the ready for a casserole dish or a few loaves of bread dough that need to proof.

I even yank open the freezer to proudly flaunt my ice maker — an ice maker! — and collection of quart jars, newly labeled on the lid for easy identification.

Oh, it’s glorious!

Bonus: now there’s a huge, empty, clean fridge in the basement, just waiting to back me up. (Except now it’s half full since just this morning I made a run to the orchard for lots of apples and cider because cold storage!!!)

Temporarily, we’ve set up the office corner and coffee station.

I stole the little round table from my older daughter’s room (it is my table, after all!) and for now that’s my desk.

Then I crept into my father’s shop and, with my mother’s blessing, stole his rolly table.

Tucked next to the fridge, it makes a perfect station for everything coffee and tea. I even got an electric water pot so I don’t have to run across town (ha!) to the stove.

And then I stocked one of the island drawers with teas (and cereal bowls and spoons since, for easy breakfastry, the cereal drawer is right below the tea drawer, and directly opposite the fridge).

Finding a place for the coffee pot has always been a bit of a scramble, especially whenever we’ve had company. Even for everyday, I stored the coffee pot in the back hall, just to get it off my counter. To have a spot specifically for coffee (and hot beverages and other drinks) feels utterly luxurious, like I’ve finally arrived. 

A basket on the rolly table’s middle shelf holds all my mugs (which means I now have a freed-up kitchen counter above which the mugs used to dangle — Hm, how to best utilize that corner?), and the bottom shelf hold the tins for oats and bread flour.

People keep saying I should clean up the rolly table — paint it, maybe — but I kind of like the artsy paint splotches and stains.

Besides, my dad’s probably going to steal it back sooner or later….

This same time, years previous: smoking food, Thai chicken curry, lessons from a shopping trip, the wiggles, why I’m glad we don’t have guns in our house, chicken salad, Chinese cabbage and apple salad.