little LADIES WHO LUNCH

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she makes muffins (guest post!)

In 2011, at thirty-seven years old, I made peace with my kitchen. Up until now it was a — what’s the word for something you only have because you have to have it? In my mind, a kitchen was like a junk drawer or a laundry hamper. You have one whether you like it or not. It’s not pretty, it’s there for a purpose, you toss things into it and run away as fast as possible.

Every meal. Every snack. Every drink. When you have young kids, it adds up to thousands of times every day that you are supposed to come up with something for everyone to eat. And for me, every one of those moments felt like a terrible chore.

And no wonder! Even when the kitchen was clean (hahaha) and all of the dishes were clean (???), absolute best case Tiffany’s kitchen was poorly thought out. The drawers and cabinets were overflowing with snarls of utensils, dull knives, annoying scattered measuring cup sets, hopelessly misshapen cookie cutters, mismatched silverware, spices that were way past their best-if-by dates. The world’s most talented chefs would have said forget it, let’s go out for pizza.

You would be horrified at how much we used to eat out. I do like eating out; it’s a social doing, it’s a nice outing, it’s fun to do. But! It should be a decision to go out because you want to go out… instead, our eating out was a matter of feeling overwhelmed at the thought of trying to cook anything.

But why was my kitchen so nonfunctional? It’s not like the government issues kitchen utensils and you are stuck with them for life. I was being crazy and childish, that’s why. Being a terrible cook was an unhealthy part of my identity somehow, and avoiding the kitchen was part of that. So! this year I challenged myself to make the kitchen an inviting place.

First I cleared out all the junk. Everything that was broken, redundant, hideous, or just plain ridiculous all went to goodwill. Then I researched what kinds of basic tools every kitchen needs. Then, even though I sort of hate shopping, I went shopping, combing Amazon for reviews, sneaking off to Target to peek at the cookware aisle. You don’t understand! This aisle is not for me! I don’t even know what a lot of this stuff is for!

The first thing I bought were some beautiful mixing bowls. I LOVE my bowls. They make me eager to mix things.

cookware

Next was the fancy skillet. It’s ceramic and naturally non-stick and I love the fancy skillet. It makes me want to skillet things. I bought two knives, a pancake turner that doesn’t suck, and a few other very basic things that my goodness, why didn’t I have before? Things like a great measuring cup. And spoons! Measuring spoons!

spoons

And these things aren’t beautiful, but I love not having to dig for those tools.

tools

I even got soap in a pretty bottle.

soap

And a small, inexpensive lamp for the counter! We rent, so no major fixture installation. Just that little bit of cheerful incandescent light washing over the counter made a huge, huge different in making me feel drawn to this room. Somewhere in there I added a goat. My husband wants a pet goat, but the city won’t let anyone have goats. Little happy things like that remind me not to take cooking so seriously.

goat

Because I DO take cooking too seriously.

But! Encouraged by the new lighting and cheered on by my bowls, I timidly began to experiment with ingredients and recipes. Some meals came out great, the kids devoured it, my husband raved and I felt like I was king of the world! Some results were terrible. My husband politely ate them, my youngest urged me to promise to “Never, ever cook this again.” and once asked, “Are you sure this recipe was supposed to be FOOD?”

And I felt like an idiot for wasting so much time and money and energy and ingredients making something so gross.

Somewhere in all of this I had a major therapuedic breakthrough: I avoid cooking because I am deeply afraid of messing up a meal. It was embarrassing. Shameful!

WELL.

The solution to that was simple: GET OVER IT.

And very slowly, you know what? I did. I got over it. At first by just pretending to be brave… which led to more practicing, and more mistakes, and more meals at home. And slowly my identity started to shift. I’m now a person who can be found in the kitchen, making things from scratch.

The other day I overheard my oldest son telling a friend, “Oh, that’s my mom. She makes muffins.”

Like it was a defining trait. Haha! I say to my past self. HAHA. SHE MAKES MUFFINS.

muffeens

There are recipes all over the internet, just trust me all of them are yummy and easy and you can have them in the oven in no time. I use things like whole wheat flour and applesauce so my kids can snack on them without me fretting about what they’re eating. Because 100mg of Zoloft can only take me so far:

Neurotic Mother’s Crazy Yummy Banana Nut Muffins

Three or four ripe bananas (it’s fun to squish them up before you peel them!)
1/3 cup applesauce
1 Tablespoon of oil
1 egg
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon baking soda
1.5 cups of whole wheat baking flour
1 cup chopped walnuts

Preheat oven to 350 and wonder at the amazing fact that so many recipes cook at 350.
In a beautiful bowl that makes you feel happy and confident, mix mashed banana, applesauce and oil.
Stir in sugar, egg (I read somewhere to beat the egg first when baking? So I do it but don’t yet know why), vanilla
Add in baking soda and salt. Stir.
Now! This is important! Add in the flour, but don’t overmix. You want to *just* combine it… if you super mix it the muffins will end up being dense and everyone will know that you used whole wheat flour and then they will make fun of you and hate you forever because you ruined Christmas and you will cry from being so humiliated.
Fold in the nuts
Fill muffin tins 3/4 full. Bake those pups for 25 minutes. Do the toothpick test to make sure they’re done, then put them on a plate in the middle of the table to let them cool before serving because it is hilarious to watch your kids trying to snatch muffins from the plate and then whine because they’re tooooo hot!

So yeah. I’m Tiffany. And this year I defeated my kitchen, overcame some deeply neurotic mental habits, and by holy mother of heck, I am a person who makes muffins.

goat2