A quick pop-in to say: Eat Muffins!

Specifically, blueberry muffins.

I never had a good blueberry muffin to my name, you know. And then a few weeks back, a friend in the midst of A Blueberry Muffin Search approached me (via the internets) to see if I had a recipe to recommend. I didn’t, but I tossed a bunch of links her way, just so I’d at least appear helpful.

After that, I had blueberry muffins on my mind, so when I spied a blueberry muffin recipe touted to be The Best Ever in another corner of the internets, I paused. The recipe looked too sweet, I thought. Bland, too—no lemon, no whole grains, no streusel, no nothing. Just butter, milk, eggs, the usual, blah-blah, boring. The only unique thing was that the recipe called for a quarter of the blueberries to be mashed before stirring them into the batter. It was supposed to make the muffin stay fresh longer, they said.

Gross, I thought. Wouldn’t the mashed berries turn the muffins gray?

But the muffins in the photo looked yummy (of course). Were they pulling my leg?

Turns out, those New York Times people weren’t lying. Tender and sweet, the muffins could not have been more delicious. With each bite, I felt like pinching myself. How did something this good come from something so simple? Why had I never discovered this recipe before?

The second time around, I tried to improve the recipe with lemon zest and juice…and failed. Because these muffins really are the best.

Blueberry Muffins
Adapted (not at all) from The New York Times, Jordan Marsh’s Blueberry Muffins.

½ cup butter
1¼ cups sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups flour
½ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ cup milk
2 cups blueberries
extra sugar, for sprinkling (I used demerara)

Cream together the butter and the sugar. Beat in the eggs and vanilla. Gently mix in the dry ingredients. Add the milk. Using a fork, mash ½ cup of the blueberries on a plate and stir them into the batter. Fold in the remaining blueberries.

Spoon the batter into muffin tins (makes about 12). Liberally sprinkle the tops with sugar. Bake the muffins at 350 degrees for 25-35 minutes. Allow the muffins to cool completely before running a knife around the edge of each muffin and removing from the tins.

This same time, years previous: way to go, kids, the quotidian (9.1.14), caramelized oatmeal topping, around the house, and dreaming.

This same time, years previous: tomatoes in cream, don’t even get me started, Bezaleel scenes, they’re getting it!, pasta with lemon-salted grilled zucchini and onions, grape parfaits, 2011 stats and notes, chocolate yogurt cake, buttery basil pesto, roasted tomato sauce, and pasta with sauteed peppers and onions.

When your friend travels all the way to Virginia to pick up you and your horse for a week-plus trip to South Carolina, it’s a big, big, BIG deal.

My  older daughter hadn’t seen her friend since January (when the friend and her family traveled back for the girls’ beloved riding instructor’s funeral). The squealing was ear-piercing.

“It’s a good thing I’m deaf in one ear,” the friend’s father said. “Otherwise the trip back would be intolerable.”

Packing for a horse is no small thing. “Here’s my pile,” my daughter said. “And this is Velvet’s. You gotta take a picture.”

She was especially proud of her medicine kit: an old medical kit re-purposed for a horse.

The friend had brought leg guards along for Velvet to wear on the trip.

After the girls put them on Velvet, she high-stepped around in the most hilarious fashion. It took a bit of coaxing to get Velvet onto the trailer, but she finally made it.

And then they were off!

My  daughter has called daily with reports of her adventures: galloping on wooded trails, getting bucked off (of course), a visit to an amusement park, movies, horsing shopping, getting a pedicure and massage (!), an all-day excursion to an equestrian center, etc. Basically, she’s having a filled-to-the-brim week-and-a-half of fun and games and loving every single minute of it.

She’ll be arriving home on Tuesday. I can’t wait. I’ve missed that girl.

This same time, years previous: on love and leftovers, atop the ruins, the quotidian (8.27.12), fresh tomato salad, chocolate malted milk frosting, and how to can tomatoes.