Little Black and Blue Berry Cakes (or the Postmodern Muffin)

It all comes down to this.  There are some very, very strong opinions on the matter of Muffin v. Cupcake. 

Nigel Slater alludes to this in his recipe for spelt and blueberry “muffins” in Ripe.  Note the quotes.  He first creams the butter and sugar together: giving his muffin batter the cake treatment.  He says:

Muffin makers will quickly spot that my blueberry muffin is a muffin only in looks, and bears little resemblance to the traditional recipe in either method or ingredients.  In some ways, it is more like a cupcake (the butter and sugar are creamed together here, rather than the butter being melted and added at the end) …

It is clear Nigel is well aware of the great muffin—cake divide.   (The quotes are his and his alone.)  I was curious as to what others thought about muffin semantics. 

Thus, I googled.   But I was left scratching my head.  A little more confused about muffins, cupcakes, and the people who eat them.

So my next step was to easel and Sharpie it out.  Here.  On this blog.  Fair warning.  The questions I raise are not for those who easily offend, have a strong muffin and/or cupcake propensity, spit at postmodernism, maintain a nervous disposition, or dislike Frank Zappa.

If none of the aforementioned applies to you, forge on.  It’s time to question The Institution of Muffin …

Does a muffin cease to be a muffin if it is iced?

If an overmixed muffin falls on the floor, will it thud? If there is no one there to witness this, did it thud?  Is it really overmixed?  And is it even a muffin?

Will a frostingless cupcake eaten for breakfast become a breakfast cake or a muffin? 

True or false?  There is naught—nor ought there be—nothing so exalted on the face of god’s gray earth as that prince of foods … the muffin! 

Where does one find a Perkins chocolate chip muffin?  When did we flashback to 1992? And where are my paisley print stirrup leggings?!

Why are muffins being made the size of enthusiastically filled water balloons?   And—for the love of this recent legging resurgence—will you please stop? 

How come women got muffin top and men got stud muffin?

Why do so many men claim to not like cake? How do men feel about muffins?  And is this a matter of frosting?

Can a woman named Candy ever be wrong when dealing in matters of cupcakes and muffins?  (Not likely, unless Candy is a stripper name.  Then all bets are off.)

Would I be someone who corrects grammar in an online muffin forum? (Answer: yes, yes I would.)

What is your “muffin” philosophy? 

Should they contain a crunch of demerara sugar?

Have you a special place in your heart for berries?

Do you prefer the term "little cake" over cupcake between the hours of six and ten am?

Might you enjoy a morning dose of wholegrain without over-the-top wholesomeness?

Would you fancy a breakfast that’s easily made and takes kindly to freezing?

If yes, this is your muffin  cake  whatever.  They’re good.

Little Black and Blue Berry Cakes

Adapted from Ripe: A Cook in the Orchard by Nigel Slater

Ingredients:

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 cup white whole wheat flour

1½ tsp baking powder

½ tsp baking soda

½ tsp salt

4 tbsp butter, softened

2/3 cup sugar

2 eggs

1 tsp vanilla extract

scant ½ cup plain low fat yogurt (or buttermilk)

¾ cup blueberries (fresh or frozen)

¾ cup black raspberries (fresh or frozen)

demerara sugar, for sprinkling

a dusting of oats

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.  Sift together the flours, baking powder, and baking soda.  Add in the salt.  Cream the butter and sugar together in a stand mixer until it is pale yellow in color and light and fluffy, scraping down the inside of the bowl if needed.  Slowly add your eggs to the creamed mixture, one at a time, while the mixer is running on low speed.  Then add the vanilla extract and yogurt.

Slowly add in the flour mixture, while the mixer continues to run on low, and then turn off the mixer as soon as all the dry ingredients have been added in.  Use a rubber spatula to mix in the flour (be careful not to mix too much, only a few turns of the spatula should be needed here).  Fold in the berries.

Drop the batter into muffin tins lined with paper muffin liners.  (The batter will be fairly thick.)  Top each muffin with a little demerara sugar and a scattering of oats.  Bake for about 20 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the muffin comes out clean.

Let cool on a wire rack.

Makes a dozen muffins

Notes:

-Any combination of berries will work here.  I liked the black and blue concept (plus those were the berries that were lurking in the freezer).  I’ve also made a triple berry version with some leftover frozen cranberries that was very enjoyable.  If you are using frozen berries, don’t defrost them before you add them into the batter.

-The original recipe calls for 1 cup spelt flour.  A number of whole grain flours would do well here.  I chose white whole wheat flour because I had it around.  It’s a whole grain, but it will produce a muffin that is lighter in texture compared to many other whole grain flours.

-These muffins have almost a biscuit or shortcake quality that I’ve become quite taken with.  They’ve quickly become a favorite muffin. Which, in this moment, is a term that I’m I am using interchangeably with little cakes.  Sigh.

-I’ve been on a bit of a demerara bender, I know.  If you don’t have any you could probably, ahem, borrow a few of those Sugar in the Raw packets from your local coffee joint.

-I am also on a bit of a Nigel Slater bender.  I don’t know when this will stop exactly.  But it’s not looking good.

He Ain't Heavy, He's My Bran Muffin

Yes, the road may be long—with many a winding turn—but the emergence of this muffin is surely a sign that better times are around the bend. While some bran muffins are known for their “tough love,” being dry, often dense, and occasionally burdensome, this muffin is nothing of the sort. In fact, it sort of coddles. I might even go so far as to call it seductive.

I’ve had a muffin (okay, two) daily since they came to be. I love them, though I can’t put my finger on exactly why; I suppose the crème fraîche helps, as does the fruit soaked in framboise. Leave it to the French to lend a certain je ne sais quoi to a muffin made of bran.

And leave it to Joanne Chang to create another baked good masterpiece, without even the use of any butter whatsoever. How she managed to make a light, cake-like bran muffin is beyond me. And the texture the millet imparts is brilliant. You may be tempted to omit it because of its slight obscurity: don’t if you can help it.

Though, the perfectly round grains will bounce all over your kitchen, so don’t bother to get out your broom until the last bran muffin has been baked and put away (or eaten). You wouldn’t believe the places I’ve found those little yellow balls.

I admit I was initially concerned that all this bran was turning me into a bore, my love for a muffin with a crunchy millet topping getting deeper by the bite. But then I thought: who cares? They really are that good. Yes folks, life—when eating bran—is good.

So, on we go. My existence, at times, is still a bit cumbersome, but it’s getting better. At any rate, I now have this muffin: and he won't encumber me. In fact, he doesn’t weigh me down at all. He ain’t heavy, he’s my muffin.

Bran Muffins with Millet and Framboise-Soaked Fruit

Adapted from Joanne Chang's cookbook Flour: Spectacular Recipes from Boston's Flour Bakery + Cafe

2-1/2 cups wheat bran

1-1/4 cups whole milk

1 cup crème fraîche

3/4 cup 0 or 2% greek yogurt

2 eggs

1 cup dried cherries

1/2 cup raisins

~1/3 cup framboise

2-1/3 cup flour

2 tsp baking powder

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp kosher salt

1/2 cup packed brown sugar (light or dark)

2 tbsp molassess (light or dark)

~1/4 cup millet

~2 tbsp cup seeds, such as sesame or flax

~2 tbsp cup slivered almonds

In a medium bowl, stir together bran, milk, crème fraîche, yogurt and eggs. Meanwhile, heat dried cherries and raisins in a small saucepan with framboise for about 5 minutes, until they start to plump, adding additional framboise if needed. Let both the bran mixture and dried fruit sit for 30 minutes. Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

During this time, combine flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt in a large bowl. After 30 minutes, add the brown sugar and molasses to the bran mixture, stirring thoroughly until well combined; drain the dried fruit and add to mixture. Add the bran mixture into the flour mixture and stir until just combined; do not over mix. Spoon batter into muffin tins lined with muffin liners and top with millet, seeds and almonds. Bake about 30-35 minutes.

Makes about 2 dozen muffins

Notes:

-This muffin is not very sweet; it's the real deal. The bran doesn't hide in sugar, it embraces itself.

-Any combination of dried fruit, nuts and seeds would work magic here. Banana chunks would also be lovely.

-Don't omit the step of letting the bran sit; have patience, grasshopper. This allowed the bran to soak up some liquid and soften.