Pumpkin apple streusel muffins

Although both apples and pumpkin--canned, at least--are available year-round, I never use them as much the rest of the year as I do in the fall. In October, I start getting a hankering for pumpkin bread and apple crisps. There are other things, too--I've been dreaming of this upside-down pear cake since last November (though I'll have to be sneaky, since the husband doesn't like maple--what's wrong with him?) and this gorgeous applesauce cake. All of these recipes have the sultriness of autumn: cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg. If summer can be summed up in a perfect juicy tomato, I'd argue that the essence of fall can be found in a rich, dark gingerbread, full of molasses and spice.

Coming in at close second are these pumpkin apple streusel muffins I made last Sunday. Not only was the day hopelessly grey, but a light, steady rain drizzled from start to finish. It was the kind of morning that needs a cozy, homey breakfast, preferably something with a little sweetness to balance out the dreary world outside.

I found the recipe for these pumpkin apple streusel muffins and decided they looked just right--with a few adjustments, of course!  Since I did not have pumpkin pie spice, I substituted cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and nutmeg. I also skipped the raisins, because I think raisins both look and taste hideous, and I shortened the baking time to 27 minutes. Also, I would consider using a different streusel topping. This one was fine, but melted a bit into the muffin. I prefer a distinct crumbly topping. Ina Garten has a great recipe for blueberry streusel muffins from which I'll steal the streusel next time.

The muffins were a hit with the husband and other hungry dog, who has developed a strong preference for baked goods. It's become apparent that coaxing her to eat dog food is pointless; we have accepted that she will live the rest of her days feasting on roast chicken, plain hamburgers, muffins, and snack cake. She eats like a toddler. It's a terrible model for dog-raising, I know. But when your pup is on the verge of turning 15 and has survived two bouts of cancer, you do what keeps a spring in her step and hope that someday, when you, too, are old and and must rely on someone to balance being kind with what is best for you, they will do the same.

Roasted chicken with bacon, figs, almonds, and thyme

Some of my best ideas I've stolen from other people.

Take this chicken I made the other night. I cobbled together two recipes other people made up, added a few of my own twists--and ta da! a Hungry Dog classic enters the repertoire. Cribbed, but a classic.

Like so many dinners, this one emerged out of necessity, and leftovers. I had some chicken to use. I also had a few random figs lying around, some thyme, and a couple slices of bacon. It didn't take long for my pea brain to realize these ingredients could be dynamite together, especially since they reminded me of two other recipes I'd recently made.

Here's the source material: there's this recipe--a classic I've been making for years, which provided me with the method. And then there was a recipe I made a few weeks ago from Melissa Clark's new book, for chicken roasted with figs and bacon, which I mostly liked but didn't love. (I do, however, love the book, and recommend you check it out.) I decided to combine the cooking method of the first recipe with some of the ingredients of the second, throw in some thyme and sliced almonds and see what happened.

What happened was delicious. Bacon, figs, honey, and almonds are a divine combination, almost dessert-like, except for the bacon. Although, who am I kidding? I wouldn't run from a bacon dessert. Anyhow, I'd really like you to try this one--I think you'll like it--but you'll have to do it fast as figs won't be in season much longer. Feel free to add your own twist and say you invented the whole thing--who am I to judge?

Roasted chicken with bacon, figs, almonds, and thyme

2 chicken breasts, boneless but with skin
2 T. olive oil
1 T. honey
2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
4 figs, quartered
2 slices bacon, chopped
2 sprigs thyme
2 T. sliced almonds
salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 425.

While the oven is heating, turn the chicken breasts skin-side down, drizzle half the honey over them and season with salt and pepper.

When the oven is hot, place the garlic slices in a shallow baking pan that can later accommodate the chicken and toss with 1 T. olive oil. Roast until the garlic just begins to sizzle, about 5 minutes.

Remove pan from oven, push the garlic to the sides, add the chicken, skin side up, and drizzle with remaining honey, salt, and pepper. Scatter bacon, figs, and thyme in pan, and drizzle last tablespoon of olive over the top. Return to oven and roast for 15 minutes.

After 15 minutes, scatter sliced almonds over the top and return to oven for 10 more minutes. 

Serve with mashed potatoes or polenta.

Serves 2.

Raspberry almond snack cakes

What's the difference between a muffin and a cupcake? Sugar content? Delicacy of crumb? The time of day you enjoy it?

Compelling arguments can be made for each of those points, but I say a cupcake absolutely must have frosting, icing, or, in a pinch, a little glaze dribbled on top. Without any such enhancement,  a small, individually-wrapped, even rather sweet baked good might be able to squeak by calling itself a muffin. It could absolutely call itself a snack cake, and snack cakes can be eaten whenever, wherever.

That was my reasoning behind these raspberry almond snack cakes I made recently, when I was looking for something to make for breakfast using some raspberries I had on hand. I was originally thinking about raspberry muffins, but when I found this recipe for Raspberry-Yogurt Cake, I thought with a few adjustments, it could make charming little snack cakes. That way I could get away with eating them in the morning.

So I halved the recipe and dropped the batter into the tins. The cakes seemed to need some kind of dressing up, and since I had already decided to skip the glaze, instead I sprinkled some sliced almonds  on each one. Into the hot box they went.

Small things are cute, aren't they?

In addition to being cute, they were soft, delicious, and super moist, perfumed with almond extract and dotted with sweet-tart raspberries. The almonds added a perfect crunch.

So what makes a snack cake a snack cake, and not a muffin or a cupcake? According to me, it should be sweeter than a muffin, but you must be able to consume it without lamenting its lack of frosting.  It should be simple to throw together--nothing requiring layers or sifting--but slightly more refined than the plain old muffin. And, perhaps most importantly, you must be able to be eat it any time of day: in the morning with coffee, after dinner as a humble dessert, or in the middle of the afternoon, when no one is around to see you eat one, or two.