i'd rather be baking

Ryan has a thing for blueberry muffins. You may recall the muffin extravaganza of 2009, which included quite possibly the world’s most perfect blueberry muffins. I wanted to make some for him, and I really should have stuck with the recipe I already knew and loved. But you know me, I can’t leave well enough alone.

My Google Reader is pretty much equally divided between ridiculous food and super healthy blogs, which is a pretty accurate representation of, well, me. The moral of the story is that we can’t all eat butter laden, crumb-topped morsels of deliciousness every morning. We have skinny jeans to wear and races to run. You understand.

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As a comforting reminder that some things clearly never change, despite nearly everything else in life turning upside down, I still find myself on the hunt for the perfect breakfast food. Said food must be healthy, providing the sort of nutritional punch you need to get the day off on the right foot; portable, namely suitable for on-the-go munching; and delicious, preferably on the sweet side.

I’ve taken to searching the good ol’ RSS reader for inspiration because, obviously, there are some brilliant folks on the interwebs. I found this recipe via Meghann and it seemed to be perfect: chock full of vegetables (of all things), less sugar and fat than the usual muffin, and the list goes on.

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People, sometimes I make things too complicated. Seriously.

This weekend was a prime example. Due to an excellent price at Sam’s, I now have cranberries coming out of my ears and kind of need to start using them. And for some reason, nearly every recipe I could find that sounded remotely yummy was heavily dependent on the presence of some form of orange (be it juice or zest), and I just wasn’t interested in going to the store for one orange.

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About a month ago, my mom mentioned that her church was looking for a volunteer to bake muffins for their women’s ministry event. I thought it sounded like fun.

She then clarified that, oh yes, they would need about 200 muffins total. For some reason, I still thought it sounded like fun.

Perhaps it was the thrill of the challenge, or my ignorance regarding the fact that there is probably some baking feat I can’t accomplish, but I just couldn’t say no. So I tested recipes and come Friday night I found myself in a large, semi-industrial kitchen, suddenly and slightly overwhelmed by the task at hand.

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