The husband had two glorious weeks off and spent them footloose and fancy free. I had a sprinkling of days off too, during which I followed his lead, enjoying myself at every chance. We had drinks with friends, went to the movies, and wandered through a natural history museum. We each finished a couple of books. And we fit in some eating here and there.
Last Wednesday, we met up with some good friends at one of our favorite restaurants, Firefly, in Noe Valley. Over shrimp and scallop potstickers, roasted duck with kumquats, and ginger cake with quince marmalade, we rang in the new year a day early.
The next night, which was New Year's Eve, we stayed in, playing records that the husband had dug up on his recent trip home to Kentucky and shipped out. I made filet mignon with cabernet-thyme sauce and mashed potatoes. We drank a fancy bottle of wine that we had been saving for a year.
On Friday night, which turned out to be misty and gorgeous, we met up with some other friends at a sleek bar on Haight street called The Alembic. We settled in at a cozy table, drank spicy cocktails filled with whiskey and cognac, and nibbled on cumin-scented nuts, warm olives, and a fabulous cheese plate.
And then there were these sweet, lemony, crumbly-topped blueberry streusel muffins, courtesy of the Barefoot Contessa.
These little guys had me freaking out a little. To be totally frank, they tasted like cupcakes, although not because they were overly sweet. But they were rich like cake, with a soft crumb. I guess there wasn't much that was muffiny about them except for the fact that there was no frosting. Cupcakes must have frosting, it's a rule. So, I think I can get away with calling these muffins and eating them for breakfast. (Note to self: these would be mighty fine with a lemon-cream cheese frosting.)
I made a half recipe which yielded 10 muffins, which meant two each on Saturday, and two each on Sunday.
But when you're married, you say things like, "What's mine is yours," and "Of course I want to share," and "Please, take the last one!" and other things that make sense when you're talking about a bag of potato chips or a book of stamps. I'm positive those phrases were not conceived of with these little
cupcakes muffins in mind.
In any case, married people are supposed to share, whatever the item in question. So, I dutifully packed one up for the husband and ate the last one myself, right before I left for work. I tried to eat it slowly, and stretch it out over at least five minutes.
Goodbye, blueberry streusel muffins.
* Sorry, I could not find a link to the exact recipe on the Food Network site. This recipe is from BC's newest cookbook, Back to Basics.