Best Gluten-Free Pancakes

Wonderful pancakes for a gluten-free diet.

Sunday Worthy Gluten-Free Pancakes

When I was small and clueless I ate the world in tiny bites. I chewed apologetically, counting each deliberate grind in time to the spiral beats of a song in my head that only I could hear. A tune not unlike a mosaic of bird calls, and the powdery flutter of wings feeding on the garden lit by young Mozart's star.

Colors were a mysterious and spiritual language infused with deep logic and meaning. A lime green Jello box invited tunneling and confusion, but the sweet brush of balsam as I sought asylum beneath its rooted symmetry petted my pining fatherless heart.

Trust is green and hard to paint, but so is betrayal.

Not only the betrayal by others. The betrayal you participate in. The hammering of your spirit self into propriety. The brittle, safe shell you construct and will curl inside for the rest of your life. You inhabit it sullenly. Sometimes willingly. Because sometimes it works. Mostly to fool them. Fool them into thinking you are someone else. Someone uncomplicated they can love. Someone like themselves.

In order to keep this armor snug you must give up on certain pieces of yourself. The ugly, muddy parts those in charge find distasteful or irritating or inscrutable. What no one tells you is, you end up missing these rejected quirks and knots. And spend the rest of your life searching for all those abandoned bits and wrinkles. The shining fragments of earlier music and jewels of petaled rain.

But if you are lucky you meet a painter.

A soul adept at conjuring a thicket within their non-judging arms. You learn about green and its secret origin. How to stir ivory black with cadmium yellow and a teaspoonful of cerulean. You dream of butterscotch pines and inhale and your spirit-body becomes too big for the worn out shell.

So you crack it.

Sideways at first. Sticking out fingers and elbows when no one is looking. Digging out fragments long forgotten. Rubbing off neglect and holding wobbly pale parts of yourself closer to the sunlight.

And you meet yourself for the first time in a long, long time.

In the rays escaping.

 ***

I use a stove top griddle across two burners on medium-high heat.

For the first time in a long, long time I made pancakes. 

Because I craved a family Sunday with pancakes.

And The Beatles.

And lots of maple syrup.

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Gluten-Free Banana Crumb Cake

Lovely for snacking. Gluten-Free Banana Crumb Cake.

A certain someone in our household has a sweet tooth. And- best of all- he not only likes to eat cake, he likes to bake it, too (apparently baking can be a form of meditation for some folks, a calming, distracting respite from toiling away in one's head for hours, excavating the various thematic elements underpinning character motivation, conflict and story arcs. All those juicy, gnarly, invisible threads and knots we movie viewers take for granted when we settle in with our gluten-free popcorn to watch a screenplay come to life.

Something I've learned, living with a screenwriter (aside from the fact that baking is therapy)?

Don't judge the script by the movie.

Because chances are the script was good.

Chances are the script was tight and wry and sharp. And moving. And funny. Chances are the script made you leak a well-earned tear. Or two.

Then came the notes.

From the director. From the actor. From the producer. And the producer's girlfriend. Her dentist.

So the script gets whittled. And weakened. And tweaked. Scenes are added to make a character more likeable (How 'bout we give him a dog- or a koi pond?). Then locales get switched (apparently producers believe New Mexican Pueblo humor translates without a glitch to Australia's Gold-Coast). The language once precise gets watered down with unimaginative phrases you've heard before (not every actor can improvise like Robert De Niro I am sorry to tell you).

Sometimes the collaborative magic of filmmaking works.

And sometimes it doesn't.

And baking ensues.

Lately?

We always have cake in the freezer.


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Gluten-Free Pasta Frittata with Kale

Cooked brown rice pasta makes a lovely little crust for the eggs.

An Italian Classic - Updated

It's crunch time here at Casa Allrich. Moving day looms. Packing has begun. I've been sitting on the floor like a cast-off princess in a fairy tale assigned to her individuating task, combing not through haystacks or mountains of tiny grain but musty boxes of thirty-five-year-old letters, stacks of faded photographs and yellowed clippings, evidence of another life allegedly my own. I am struck most by the persistent echoes, the parallels spiked with the quirky twists of fate that led me here, to now, the line between seeking and creating blurring into a narrative that persists in your life like an ache.

We seek what we need to become. We long for the parts of ourselves we discarded out of necessity or people-pleasing acquiescence. Accommodation is a common theme in many a woman's life. Mid-life sharpens this trend into focus in subtle ways. When you begin counting seasons, and fewer summers await you, each choice you've picked up to now- and every discarded loss- becomes bittersweet and ripe with meaning.

All this contemplation and dust as we recycle the last remaining things we carry.

Our life has been whittled and sanded and simplified these last six years. An empty nest has its gifts. From the east coast to the west coast we have pared down and let go with each move (five times in six years). No original furniture remains. We own a sofa (a floor model bought in Marina Del Rey). A bed. Two desks. The truckload of books and old paintings is now a carload.

My boxes of cookbooks have shrunk from twenty to two.

Our move to Studio City is a gesture toward community (writing and film). A move closer to family (both sons- and a new daughter-in-law- live closer to Studio City than Redondo Beach). A move away from the ocean, but toward sun. From fog to heat. Our new neighborhood is a quiet, leafy one, framed in well tended white fenced gardens that rival Provincetown. We walked the block last week. Waist high lavender bushes, roses, iris and honeysuckle feed me in ways concrete and steel cannot. Small town New England is in my bones, I guess. And forever will be.

Today I offer you a recipe spun from the magic of leftover brown rice spaghetti and eggs- a creamy, light frittata. Perfect for when you're simply too tired to cook. Or you have nothing in the fridge but a carton of eggs, half a bag of kale salad and last night's leftover spaghetti in eggplant marinara.

The "cheese" I used was a vegan "mozzarella" (my current favorite is Vegan Gourmet). But if you prefer using dairy- select one or two of your favorite organic cheeses.



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Elegant and Easy Pasta Frittata

Gluten-free pasta frittata made with brown rice penne.

An Elegant and Easy Pasta Frittata

Summer is officially upon us- allegedly. And by us I mean those of us calling the Northern hemisphere our home. See? I didn't forget you lovely readers from the topsy-turvy land Down Under, strapped to snowboards or skiing the snowy slopes of Victoria in need of steaming mugs of soup and plates of comfort food. I know it's winter for you. I get it. I do. I'm chilly, too. I've got Popsicle toes. And just so you know I'm not pulling your leg, Mate, I'll let you in on a little secret.

I'm not sporting a bikini these days, either.

Well, I don't actually own a bikini, so that might not be terribly shocking news (I don't think I've even touched a bikini since 1982, and for that wise choice alone, countless thousands are grateful).

I'm still layering my long sleeved tees and thick fuzzy sweatshirts, you see. Here in Redondo Beach we have the annual weather effect (grumpily or fondly) known as June Gloom. Brushed velvet fog and low slung clouds hug the coast each morning and shower us with mist that would make Ireland proud.

It's a marine layer issue, so they say.

After three (long) sun baked years in Northern New Mexico, I rather like it. It's moody and hushed and inspiring in a rainy day spirit sort of way, transforming the technicolor blue of L.A. skies into wallflower introversion, softening and muting the usual exuberance and clamor that is Los Angeles. It's the kind of weather that makes you crave a good book.

And a lazy brunch.

Perhaps this light and easy frittata recipe will please both hemispheres.

Those in bikinis, and those snug in UGGs .

Fresh parsley, mint, chives, sweet red pepper and free-range eggs.

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Gluten-Free Baked Sugared Donuts

Gluten-free cake donuts with powdered sugar and cinnamon.

I've missed donuts, I admit. And I haven't eaten one since going gluten-free exactly nine years ago yesterday. That's right. This a gluten-free anniversary for me. Number 9. So I thought I'd finally give donuts a try. Why not? It's been way too long.

And the best news- for so many of you--- these are vegan. No dairy, no butter, no eggs. Believe me, they don't need all that farm fresh moo-cow cluck-cluck business. Seriously. The flavor is just right. Not too sweet, with a kiss of nutmeg and a cinnamon or powdered sugar dusting.

These little gems rock.

Old fashioned cake style donuts that are gluten-free and vegan.

A new breakfast treat- gluten-free donuts.

Gluten-Free Cake Donuts Recipe with Powdered Sugar or Cinnamon

Originally published December 2010.

I used my 12-count mini donut pan to bake these little beauties, so this recipe will make a dozen small donuts. They bake in only 15 minutes. If you have a pan for 6 larger donuts, the recipe may take slightly longer to bake. Check your manufacturer's instructions for guidelines in baking a bigger donut.

Preheat the oven to 350ºF.

Ingredients:

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together:

1 cup sorghum flour
1/2 cup millet flour or certified gluten-free oat flour
1/2 cup potato starch (not potato flour)
2 tablespoons hazelnut flour or almond flour
1/3 cup packed light brown sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
1/2 teaspoon xanthan gum
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg

Add:

1/4 cup Spectrum Organic Shortening
1/2 cup vegan sour cream (or plain vegan yogurt)
1/4 cup So Delicious Coconut Milk (or plain rice or nut milk)
Ener-G Egg Replacer for two eggs mixed with a scant 1/4 cup warm water
1 teaspoon bourbon vanilla extract


Instructions:

Add the shortening first, by spoonfuls, and use the mixer's whisk attachment or a pastry cutter to help it distribute the shortening until the flour mix becomes sand textured.

Add in the vegan sour cream, coconut milk, egg replacer and vanilla extract, and mix until the dough forms a smooth and pliable dough. It should be slightly sticky- but not too sticky to handle. (If the dough is too wet and cannot easily form a ball when you roll it in your palms, add a bit more flour.)

Divide the dough into 12 sections and roll each piece in your palms to form a ball roughly the size of a golf ball Your hands should be slightly oily from the shortening- this is good.

Using your palms, gently roll the dough into a log shape and carefully- gently- continue to roll it into a cigar shape about 4 to 5 inches long. Drape the dough into the well of a donut pan, and slightly overlap the two ends to make a circle. Don't get fussy yet. Just lay it in there.

Continue as above with the remaining dough balls.

Using oily or slightly wet fingers, smooth out the dough evenly. Don't smoosh it down into the well- simply finesse it a bit so that it comes together evenly as a ring.

Bake in the center of a pre-heated oven for 15 minutes, until firm to the touch.

Mine baked at exactly 15 minutes. Don't over bake these little babies- remember, the center of the mold is hot too, so the donut rings are baking from both sides.

Remove the pan and set it on a wire rack to cool a bit. As soon as it's cool enough to handle, remove the donuts from the pan and place them bottom side up on a wire rack (if they stay in the hot pan too long, gluten-free goodies get soggy bottoms).

When cooled a bit, sift confectioner's sugar or a mix of confectioner's sugar and ground cinnamon all over the donuts.

Scarf down immediately with a hot cup of Double D coffee. Best eaten the day you bake 'em.

Cook time: 15 min

Yield: One dozen mini donuts.

Recipe Source: glutenfreegoddess.blogspot.com

All images & content are copyright protected, all rights reserved. Please do not use our images or content without prior permission. Thank you. 

GFG Notes:

If you are nut-free, replace the two tablespoons of hazelnut flour with sorghum or rice flour.

If you'd rather use an egg, use 1 large free range organic egg, beaten.

I used vegan soy sour cream, but any sour cream or plain yogurt will work.

For milk subs, choose a good tasting neutral milk- the flavor of these donuts is pretty subtle. Don't pick a strong milk like hemp. If you want to make these ahead of time, bake, cool, and freeze plain. Then thaw and dust with powdered sugar for serving.

I'm now using w-a-a-a-y less brown rice and brown rice flour, and eating fewer rice cakes, etc. Here's why- there are elevated arsenic levels in rice.

I baked these donuts in a mini donut pan. They are cute as buttons!

Gluten-Free Peach Muffins with Almond Flour

Gluten-free peach muffins baked with almond flour.

Juicy Peach Muffins

Today is Labor Day. And here I am working. Editing photographs of peach muffins and writing up a new gluten-free recipe. No rest for the wicked. Or the self-employed. We bloggers toil at our living daily, working through holidays and oftentimes, dinner. We tend and tweak and pretty much live a nerdy geek life. The opposite of glamorous.

Or maybe it's just me.

There are plenty of extroverted bloggers who travel and attend blogging conferences and hob nob. They dine together and smile brilliantly in group pictures, tweeting breathlessly their mutual squee. And I envy them. Sometimes. Just a little.

But alas, the simple truth is, it is not meant to be. I am destined, you see, to the role of wallflower and geek girl. Because the mere, fleeting snippet of a thought about flying somewhere alone, which, you know, entails the whole going through various x-ray machines and raising your arms for people wielding wands, not to mention, taking one's shoes off and rushing to put them back on so that the person (make that seventeen persons) behind you doesn't get impatient while you fumble with your buckles and your unzipped purse and boarding pass and explain to the squinting security guy that the mystery wad of metal in your bag's side pocket is only dimes and quarters you collect for Santa Monica parking meters as he picks out all thirty-seven coins just to make sure and for good measure keeps your nail clippers (in all the excitement, you didn't confess you were also carrying nail clippers). Thank goddess you packed the vibrator in your checked luggage.

And then there's the whole belting yourself into a hulking metal beast with wings that weighs goddess knows how many megatons, and snugging your pelvis to a polyester burnt orange float-able seat cushion between a shiny headed businessman who obviously ate raw onions for lunch and college professor reading the New York Times who you know secretly wants to discuss Obama's Afghanistan policy. Where is Dr. Jack Shephard when you need him?

Such visions send spikes of fear and loathing down my duodenal canal.

So I imagine muffins.

I fondle peaches at the market admiring their curve and fuzz. I peel them gently and coax out the stone pit. I slice them into jewels that will fit on the tongue and give up a burst of sweet tart juice. I stir almond meal into powder soft flours and squeeze lime juice and sprinkle cinnamon.

I bake.

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Blueberry Smoothie- Veganluscious

Blueberry smoothie- dairy-free gluten-free chill.

Wilting from the heat? I've got a deep blue chill for you. Dairy-free. Easy as pie. Cool as a blueberry. I'm emancipating this recipe from the archive depths because it's just too luscious to get lost in 2007, never to be slurped again.

What does a brave and spunky vegan girl do when she is suddenly famished and her Crowded House whistling husband is scrambling up some free-range eggs and cheese for brunch? I'll tell what you do.

You reach for your power tools.

You haul out the Vita-Mix and thank your twinkling stars you have a bag of organic frozen blueberries in the freezer. You grab the carton of organic almond milk. You dip into the Nutribiotic vanilla rice protein powder. You smile slyly. You sprinkle in some stevia. 

You switch the button to HIGH and sigh.

You froth with pleasure.

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Karina's Gluten-Free Quinoa Breakfast Bars

Gluten-free quinoa breakfast bars, Baby.

Quinoa Breakfast Bars!

We were treatless this week. Specifically, breakfast treatless. No Pear Polenta Muffins were hiding in the freezer. No Apple Cake with Cranberries. In fact, the only food items in the freezer were a solo bottle of organic vodka and a bag of frozen cranberries (does vodka count as food?). Which turned out to be a good thing. Because we had to bake. [Had to!] So we experimented (send smooches to Steve for initiating said experiment; if it were not for him, Dear Reader, you'd be looking at an archived recipe today).

As the breakfast treats were baking I started thinking (always dangerous). I started pondering (even more dangerous) why certain people believe they have things AFO. All Figured Out. And they'll tell you so, of course, spooning out advice in words that taste metallic. Like teeth fillings. They have all the neat little answers for you, judged and predigested, wrapped snug in tidy psychic ribbons.

If only life were that simple.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not yearning for simple. 

I'm not six years old.
I can handle complicated. I can chew for hours on ideas that are tough and wiggly and mysterious, and arrive at no final conclusion whatsoever. I can sleep on it and wake up with nothing but songs and dreams in my head that will color the day with glimpses of what might be possible. I don't need to hammer the challenging and mysterious into a mold I can easily grasp so I can feel more comfortable in the world, believing it is fixed. So I can stop asking questions. So I can say, I have the answer.

I am, in fact, okay hanging in the tension of opposites.

I don't need only good, only pretty, only nice, only light, only clean, only sweet, only happy. And isn't that a valuable thing? Because the last time I checked the world was a mash-up of good and bad, beautiful and ugly, gentle and cruel, luminous and dark and cool and filthy and calm and angry and laughable and profoundly, deeply sad. And often, really ironic.

So here's the thing.

The older I get, the more I learn, the less certain I am. Of anything. I don't have all the answers. I don't always know what is best or what is true. And what is right for me may not be right for you. And what may be right for me today may be wrong for me tomorrow.

But one thing I do know?

There are places on this earth where you feel you belong. And places you will always feel like a stranger. An outsider. A tourist. There are places and people and days that grind you down. And harden you. And there are places and people and days that soften you. Soften your heart. And you know what?

I want that.

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Gluten-Free Blueberry Corn Muffins

Summery, fresh blueberry corn muffins- gluten-free.

Blueberries and corny goodness ...

August is fast approaching. I am trying not to think about it. I am baking blueberry corn muffins. Denial ain't just a river in Egypt. Or so I'm told. I am constructing my best defense to put off thinking about hauling our ocean-loving selves back to the dusty stoic hills of Ojo Caliente- 913 miles away from my sons, 915 miles from the sea.

Anyone out there want to buy a charming casita with mesa sunset views? Two kiva fireplaces. Saltillo tile floors. Vigas. All the rustic Southwest vibe you could ask for. Price reduced (thrice). To less than what we paid for it.

I don't pretend to understand the bigger picture, the honking beast of our lumbering economy. I'm no good at math- even when the economy is not melting down, humming along to its own sweet tune, nevermind comprehending the intricate ins and outs and ups and downs of depression economics and the breathtaking depths of Wall Street greed and extra sensitive interest rates that pout and pose and tease like strippers sending brokers into sweating Xanax popping frenzy. Not to mention, I cannot wrap my poetic visual brain around those epic taxpayer funded Wall Street buy-outs.

I'm an artist. I have always lived by the seat of my pants, without health insurance, without an IRA. I don't live by a plan. I live by intuition. Inspiration. I play with paint (not a skill valued by many people in our big screen spectacle loving culture). So I probably shouldn't have become a home owner. It was probably my fault. I should have known better. I've learned my lesson. I'm letting go. I'm saying no to mortgages. For now.

And I'm baking muffins.

I'm trying to practice my best Zen-Lebowski detachment (the waves help). And yeah. We still have three weeks. Miracles happen.

As always?

I'm hoping for the best.

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Quinoa Muffins with Pecans

High protein quinoa flakes make this gluten-free muffin yum.

Not since my Quinoa Breakfast Cake recipe have I enjoyed a morning treat more. I am seriously digging these cute little quinoa beauties. I started out imagining a quinoa breakfast bar, an easy to-go treat that might fuel my morning walks on the beach (I've been walking three miles almost every day- which is a minor miracle, for those of you who remember the trippy Richard Gere incident). I wrote up a recipe I thought might create a higher protein snacking bar I could munch with my mug of Irish Breakfast Tea as I browse, bleary-eyed and yawning through the morning chirps over at Twitter.

But it became apparent rather quickly this batter was born to be muffins. I could just tell. It had that perfect stretchy je ne sais quoi that I knew deep down in my private tiny girl heart would urge the dark chocolate studded dollops of earthy quinoa goodness to rise into tender golden domes like champs.

So I followed my intuition and switched gears and veered into Muffin Land.

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Santa Fe Huevos on Polenta aka Eggs Ranchero

Santa Fe Huevos on Polenta Recipe aka Eggs Ranchero

Huevos rancheros- a traditional Tex-Mex recipe featuring fried eggs, refried beans and salsa on top of warm corn tortillas- is a delicious brunch recipe, no doubt. But I decided to change up tradition. Just because.

Using a roll of pre-made polenta makes this a perfect weeknight supper or a quick and easy Sunday brunch. For the more ambitious cooks out there, stirring polenta from scratch isn't hard, it just requires a little patience. Kinda like motherhood. And meditation. And selling a house. For how to make make polenta from scratch see below.

Ingredients:

1 18-oz roll pre-made polenta, sliced

1 cup cooked black beans (rinsed canned beans are fine)

1 14-oz can Muir Glen Organic Fire Roasted Tomatoes with Green Chiles

1/2 cup tomato sauce or your favorite salsa

3 cloves garlic, chopped

1 small red onion, diced

1 smallish zucchini, chopped or diced

1 small red, yellow or green bell pepper, cored, seeded, diced

2 tablespoons chopped jalapenos or roasted green chiles

1/2 teaspoon each: cumin, chili powder, oregano or cilantro

2-3 ounces goat cheese, or feta sheep cheese, cubed

4 large organic free-range eggs

Sea salt and pepper, to taste

Chopped fresh cilantro or parsley, for garnish

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 375ºF.

Lay the polenta slices in an oiled 8 x 8-inch baking pan or a 9-inch glass pie plate. I used an oven-safe skillet.

In a bowl combine the beans, diced tomatoes, tomato sauce, garlic, onion, zucchini, bell pepper, jalapenos, and spices. Spoon this mixture over the sliced polenta and place the pan in the pre-heated oven.

Bake for twenty minutes until hot and bubbling.

When the polenta is bubbling and almost cooked, scatter the cubed feta or goat cheese over it; and continue to bake while you...

Fry the eggs.

Remove the polenta from the oven. Lay the cooked eggs on top of the polenta. Season with sea salt and fresh ground pepper. Sprinkle with chopped fresh cilantro or parsley, if desired.

Serves four.

Recipe Source: glutenfreegoddess.blogspot.com

All images & content are copyright protected, all rights reserved. Please do not use our images or content without prior permission. Thank you. 

How to make polenta from scratch:

You'll need:

1 cup gluten-free corn grits polenta
4 1/2 cups light broth
Sea salt and fresh ground pepper, to taste

You can also add chopped fresh herbs or grated cheese or non-dairy cheese, if desired.

In a large heavy-bottomed pot, bring the broth to a high simmer and pour the cornmeal into the simmering broth in an even, steady stream, whisking as you go. Keep stirring. When the polenta has thickened and is pulling away from the sides of the pot a bit, add in herbs or shredded cheese and season with sea salt and pepper, to taste. This takes about 20 minutes, or so. Remove the pot from the heat.

If you make your polenta ahead of time, you have the option of spooning it evenly into a pie plate or cake pan and letting it cool. This makes a firm polenta you can later slice into wedges, brush with olive oil, and broil.

More fabulous egg recipes for Spring from favorite food bloggers:

Southwestern Egg Casserole from Kalyn's Kitchen
Chorizo and Eggs from Elise at Simple Recipes
Best Basic Deviled Eggs from Nicole at Pinch My Salt
Huevos alla Amy at Cooking with Amy
Fried Eggs and Collard Greens Over Polenta at The Kitchn
How to Make Perfect Hard Boiled Eggs from Elise at Simple Recipes

Note: As always check ingredients and product labels for 100% gluten-free status- especially with cornmeal and polenta.

 

Big Banana Muffins (Gluten-Free)

Gluten-free banana muffins. Oh yeah.

Sometimes you crave banana bread but not the slice. 

You have a hankering for the whole, not the part. A thing intact. Weighty and complete and an entity all on its own. All yours. Maybe it's the simplicity you want. The curve and weight of it snug in your hand. Hefty but compact. Portable.

You want a muffin.

Maybe even a big muffin. A jumbo muffin tender and sweet and fragrant. Worthy of sinking your teeth into. Worthy of the calories. That kind of muffin. The trouble is, most standard gluten-free muffins turn out so small they resemble snack time for tiny people. I'm not exactly sure why, but I've noticed the shrinkage factor with gluten-free baking in general. You use the same amount of flour as an old school wheat flour recipe, but when all is said and done, when the muffins are baked and cool and ready to wrap- or better yet, nosh- you hold one up to the morning light to inspect it and think, What the Hades happened? Did it shrink- or is it me? Am I imagining this minor disappointment?

Am I getting neurotic about muffin size now?

I don't have the answer for you. I'm a cook not a scientist. But I suspect it is the lack of gluten that makes the difference between yummy-plump and expansive and, well, shrunken and kinda sad. Gluten is a giving protein that lends breads and muffins that lovely je ne sais quoi (French for, I don't know what). That It Factor, that elastic, rising... generosity (even if it is evil for celiacs).

My point? I began to wonder if twelve Lillipution muffins were worth the effort. If I might be better satisfied by going for six. The jumbo set. Less servings, true. But.

Maybe baking these babies larger would produce a more muffiny muffin. You decide.

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Gluten-Free Apple Cinnamon Muffins

Cinnamon apple goodness- gluten-free.

A classic fall favorite- the pairing of apples and cinnamon. Stir them together in a muffin batter and you have a sweet and cozy breakfast treat that is not only heart warming and soul satisfying but super easy to wrap and freeze. That is, if you don't eat every single morsel first. These little gems would be a fabulous side nosh for Thanksgiving brunch- or a casual supper of Curried Butternut Soup.

It's a gray flannel sky kind of day here in the high desert. Chilly and damp. Steve is watching The Great Escape as I nibble on a warm apple muffin. It's been a historic week. I am still re-viewing on-line videos of our President-Elect with gratitude and awe, thankful that hope, grace and smarts prevailed despite the ugly drumbeat of fear, fueled by prejudice and the age old tactic of scapegoating and button-pushing, appealing, of course, to the lower instincts of our reptilian past. The old and rusty paradigm is giving birth to the new on a collective level. And I feel it in my bones and in the air that I breathe.

I am grateful. Hopeful. And eager to greet change.

It's all good.


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Gluten-Free Muffin, Scone + Brunch Recipes

Here is my collection of favorite brunch-worthy gluten-free muffin, scone, and coffee cake recipes for breakfast in bed, brunch by a cozy fire, or a laid back morning spent reading the Sunday paper on a sunlight dappled patio.

I've also included my best egg recipes- easy frittatas and crustless quiches (my all time favorite brunch egg dish is the spicy Eggs Diavolo served on creamy polenta). And if you haven't tried one of my crustless quiches studded with roasted vegetables or my light but filling pasta frittata-- Babycakes, what are you waiting for? 

If you're going vegan continental, browse my bakery recipes for tender scones, tea breads, and warm, fall apart muffins. Or zap up a smoothie. 

There's no excuse to reach for the cold cereal box.

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Gluten-Free Maple Apple Breakfast Sausage

Things I Lost in the Fall

Truth is often messy. It's complicated. Hard to blog about. Because truth- the whole of it- doesn't always dovetail into a post about rhubarb or biscuit dough. It isn't shiny and pastel sprinkled or predigested for your consumption. What I'm feeling lately is raw and no doubt undercooked, and I'm not even sure I understand it. So, what, exactly, is it?

Things I lost in the fall.

Besides the ability to straddle, to jog up the patio steps, to sway to Iris Dement while stirring onions, to heft groceries from the back seat, lug heavy Mexican chairs over into the sun, to reach the top edge of a five-foot canvas and lay down a swath of color, walk back, step forward, add more paint, back up, mix color (do this for hours). Or even just sit on the floor. Cross my legs. Curl up in a chair with a book.

To stand for more than ten minutes without assistance (in other words, cane).

But it's more than these things, even. More than the physical struggle back to a modified semblance of wholeness. It's the acidic sensation of sliding backwards in time, losing ground you worked so hard to get to, to claim as your own. The foothold that didn't come easy to a questioning hyper-vigilant child. A cultivated center of pure confidence. The belief in I am here. Entitlement.

The right to take up floorspace and wall space, to carve out time, spend money on materials. Make mistakes, explore, discover. Play. To start over somewhere new and unfamiliar. The right to disappoint someone else. To confuse them. To place someone else's needs next to your own- instead of in front of your own.

More was broken than a hip.

And ten months later, I am still mending. Not just knitting marrow and stretching fifty-year old muscles that knot and resist. There are invisibles I have lost.

And I am no longer bold enough, or naive enough, to simply assume I'll get them back.
 

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Strawberry Chocolate Chip Scones- Gluten-Free Recipe

Get Sconed.

Today was a good day. A strawberry and chocolate laced crusty on the outside tender on the inside kind of day. That's right. I got sconed. Here's the back story.

Shopping for groceries, I was in such an expansive mood post my double espresso (who isn't?) I thought I might try baking something fun and slightly indulgent for the weekend. The local organic strawberries at the market smelled beyond heavenly in their ripe and ruby lusciousness. Yes, I smell all my fruit and veggies before I buy. Don't you? The woman with the amber handled cane you see standing in the Whole Foods produce aisle sniffing tomatoes and berries and anything else she can get her one free hand on, Darling?

That would be me.

But I know what you really want to know is how I conjured such utter scone cuteness from troublesome gluten-free dough. Gluten-free dough is notoriously sticky and the baking mix directions suggested scooping the dough and making free-form drop shapes. Easy peasy? Yes. But I wanted more of a wedge shaped scone. Something pretty, suitable for tea time.

So using moist hands, I formed the dough into a rounded soda bread style shape- not unlike my Gypsy Soda Bread, in fact. I used a big sharp knife to score and cut the dough into eight triangles. Then I moved them- with a triangle shaped spatula- to my Exopat lined cookie sheet. I soothed and patted and baked them into the contented little wedges you see pictured.

Next time I might try rolling the dough out a little bit flatter and using cookie cutters to make a more biscuit-like shape. Just for fun.

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