I love bagels. They get such a bad rap, though, and I’ve been feeling a little defensive for them. Innocent bread circles, wonderfully round, thick and beautiful – what have they done to deserve such criticism, such shunning!
So, I have decided to do some sort of half-assed internet research. Are bagels six times worse than a slice of bread? What does that even mean? Do they, in a single bagel, really have as much calories and carbohydrates as a loaf of bread? How are they made? Did they save cream cheese from the brink of extinction?!
All these and more, tonight on Bette Jane’s Bagel Hour.
I came late to berry season. Upon waking up every morning, I thought, “BREAKFAST” closely followed by, “BLACKBERRIES”. After several weeks (I exaggerate not), a 21st birthday (and subsequently a renewed, heinous license that I will be subjecting bouncers to for the next five years), four dank bananas (which are rarely dank enough to not bake with) and a kitten (Duchess Lady Luna-Bear Elaine Athena Indica Rooney Artemis Cheese the III, aka Luna) later, I finally ventured out into the wild grass-wood-land that is our backyard…and frontyard…to collect a heaping bowl of blackberries. Meanwhile, my dear companion, Michael, barely scraped together a cup’s-worth.
It was totally the other way around. Whatever! Caterpillars!
Most of us take away invaluable lessons and memories from our college experiences. Outstanding professors, awesome adventures, night-long parties; indeed, higher education provides us with a variety of important times…
…like the introduction of rice pudding. And Warm Cookie Night (boy, did I love Tuesdays).
This recipe adventure is actually an older one from the fall (hense the pumpkin, although who would really turn that down just because it’s summer?). I remember the day well: it began with an uncomfortably early rugby game, full of tight shorts, sweat and bruises the size of your mom (the sidelines are a tough place); then, I spent a few hours trying to coax my pilot light into wondrous flames (for, approximately, the eighth time); later, when I was filled with a need to recover from this strenuous day, I threw together these spectacular little hot cakes (correction, muffins) and shared them with fellow Writing Center nerd-friends over a semi-clean game of Scrabble.
Don’t feel bad if your life is less invigorating; mine is not meant to be a commonly traveled road. Pumpkin muffins, however, are on the path for all!