Embracing Simplicity

Isaac Newton once said that "Truth is ever to be found in simplicity, and not in the multiplicity and confusion of things." I find that also to be true in baking (as in most things). Minutes ago I finished what is possibly my most successful cupcake adventure to date. The slightly lemon aroma of warm bread in cupcake form is insidiously taking over the boys' house and while I am pleased I keep wondering if they are going to come in one day and throw up their arms in exasperation only to tell me "THAT IS ENOUGH!" To be honest, I thought Jamie would have done that back in November when I baked an inedible, oily brownie brick into one of his nice glass casserole dishes. But I am a scientist (!) and cannot be stopped by such a paltry thing as failure (or kitchen fires, as it turns out).

That said, I really want to share this recipe with everyone. I cannot take credit for it as it comes from the Babycakes cookbook by Erin McKenna. I'm systematically working my way through that little wonder and so far there is absolutely nothing bad in it yet! Granted, it might be a little more work than anyone without allergies may wish to do, but for those of us who lead lives without it's a God-send. These little babies will melt in your mouth. Whoever said that vanilla had to be plain or that simple was boring?


Ingredients

• 2 Cups Garbanzo-Fava Bean Flour
• 1 Cup Potato Starch
• 1/2 Cup Arrowroot
• 1 Tablespoon Plus 1 1/2 teaspooons Gluten-Free Baking Powder
• 1/2 Teaspon Baking Soda
• 1 Teaspoon Xanthan Gum
• 2 Teaspoons Salt
• 2/3 Cup Coconut Oil (may substitute canola, grapeseed, avacado, etc if you'd rather)
• 1 1/3 Cups Agave Nectar
• 3/4 Cup Unsweetened Applesauce
• 3 Tablespoons Gluten Free Pure Vanilla Extract
• Grated Zest of 1 Lemon
• 1 Cup Hot Water (likely not needed if you do not use coconut oil)
• frosting of choice (I used dairy-free cream cheese)

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit. Line muffin tins with cupcake liners.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, potato starch, arrowroot, baking powder, baking soda, xanthan gum, and salt. Add the oil, agave nectar, applesauce, vanilla, and lemon zest to the dry ingredients and combine. Stir in the hot water and mix until the batter is smooth.

Pour 1/3 cup batter into each prepared cup, almost filling it. Bake the cupcakes on the center rack for 22 minutes, rotating the tins 180degrees after 15 minutes. You know your oven best, so keep an eye out on them in case they are cooking a little fast or slow. The finished cupcakes will be golden brown and will bounce back when pressure is applied gently to the center.

Let the cupcakes stand in the tins for 20 minutes, then transfer them to a wire rack and cool completely. Frost and enjoy!

An Early Anniversary

The crow of laughter which sounded made my ears go hot. Shifting uncomfortably back and forth within the cramped kitchen of the intern house; I grew defensive. "Well, I haven't had cherries before besides the kind that come in drinks." Nichole laughed again.

"Oh, God. Don't say that. Here. Put this in your mouth."

And that was how it was for the two years of my internship. From Nichole to Orli to Amy. Each lady stepped into my whirlwind life one after another to keep me company as well as giving me cooking lessons (admittedly some more indirectly than others). Even now when I am stealing precious moments in a kitchen that isn't mine to whip up Bing Cherry and Lemon Cupcakes from my Babycakes cookbook I cannot help but think of them as well as a myriad of others. I suppose that's one of the reasons I adore cooking so much. Baking, especially. It's not a task that's lonely even when you are doing it by yourself.

These days I find that despite having to cook differently than in the past, it isn't the utterly foreign task I anticipated nearly a year ago when I started my gluten/soy/corn/dairy/etc-free adventure. It's hard to believe that so much time has passed and that I have been largely successful (aside from my occasional indulgence in corn or dairy or an accidental brush with a wheat-based thickener for some seemingly innocent soup). And where I was once making burnt, soupy brownie imitations and pasty renditions of would-be cookies I'm now actually able to make fluffy cupcakes, crisp cookies that would do any grandmother proud, and an occasional pumpkin pie that tastes like I must be cheating somewhere. It's heartening to say the least.

I've been back in the south for a month now and eating was every bit as difficult as I thought it would be. It is difficult to turn down dishes that were (and are) my favorites because my body absolutely cannot handle them. Family reunions coupled with funerals mean scads of delicious, batter-covered food at every turn with aunts, uncles, parents, and grandparents leaning across the table to offer conspiratorial whispers: "Just cheat a little. Who is going to know?" Rather than explain how it is exceedingly difficult to trick my body or the price I pay for cheating, I smooth a friendly smile over my lips and go looking for the green beans. The ones that don't have the battered french onions on the top. Eesh.