I’m an early-to-bed, early-to-rise kind of gal. This morning was no different, and I woke before the sun started shimmying its way up into the sky. I started cleaning the kitchen a bit before trying my hand at a batch of pumpkin muffins. Because it’s October and that means it’s officially pumpkin season. Time to bust out all the pumpkiny recipe favorites and savor the flavor of…Octovor? Err…
Sometimes the best recipes come from the unlikeliest of places. I found this fantastic pumpkin muffin recipe over on a forum for Celiac disease. Now that I’m a year and a half into my SCD journey, I’ve finally built up a standard enough pantry that I had everything in the recipe on hand. (However, word to the wise: do NOT purchase the tiny bottles of organic Market Pantry spices at Target. They are cute as all get-out, but not even a quarter teaspoon will fit into those itty baby bottle mouths.)
I left out the optional walnuts and raisins, and mixed all my wet ingredients by hand since a) Colin was sleeping and I didn’t want the electric mixer to wake him, and b) less dishes to wash is always a good thing in my book. I also grated my own nutmeg, since that was all I had. I’m pretty sure I ended up with less than the 1/2 teaspoon called for, but there’s only so much hand grating a girl can take. (Am I right, ladies? That came out wrong.)
Most recipes for gluten-free baked goods call for an oven temperature of 350°F. This recipe calls for a 325°F oven, which really prevented the muffins from scorching and drying out. The recipe’s suggested 25–30 minute cook time was also surprisingly accurate—I checked my batch of muffins after 20 minutes, and then let them go for another 4–5 minutes, removing them once an inserted toothpick came out clean.
And the muffins turned out spectacularly. Airy and aromatic, these muffins are on another dimension when served warm out of the oven with a sliver of butter melting between sliced halves. The traditional pumpkin pie spices (cinnamon, clove, ginger, nutmeg) are such warm and familiar fall tones, inviting visions of heaping leaf piles and warty green-gold gourds. One bite and I’m fully immersed in the season.