I wanted to try my hands at mastering the English Muffin. You might say the mere English Muffin which is more of a bread than a cake muffin that we all love. Bread can and often does become elusive at times. Most times it’s because the yeast has gone over the hill into the land of freedom from the darken jar for which it was kept in a cool place for months on end.
So I set a goal to give the small English Muffin a try, I mean how hard can it be since I’ve mastered as far as I’m concerned the art of loaf bread creating. To say goal is only meant in my own mind to master this as well. All good intentions aside, I was getting way ahead of my self and my own capabilities in the kitchen. In other words my head was bigger than my talents.
I thought this is going to be a fun afternoon since it’s been raining for the whole of June and I’m about ready to go nuts not being able to play outside in my garden. To partake in a mere few minutes amongst rain showers with my rubber shoes on to keep my socks dry was just not enough to keep me sane. Indeed, I ran head on like a deer in a cars headlights full steam ahead, full stop.
The internet is a grand place if you’re looking for anything really…I typed in English Muffins and what popped up to my delight was a mass of different ways at going about the Grand English Muffin. Martha Stewart and her Big Orange Baking Handbook at my side I jotted down a few other recipes with different techniques. I felt the Martha recipe was beyond what I wanted to do this day and all of the internet others made it look so much easier and faster.
Yes, isn’t that what we all want lately, fast, faster, zoom, speed of light, etc., etc. I chose one recipe from the internet and opened Martha’s Big Orange Baking Handbook to the proper page and the jotted down recipe from the internet and happily shuffled off to my tiny Barbie kitchen as I like to name things. My moto is and has always been. ” That will do.” or “Indeed, I can make this work for me.”
Dumbfounded must have been printed across my forehead as I looked like a deer standing perfectly still gazing at the headlights (Me- Martha’s big orange baking handbook ) at the long, seemingly endless paragraphs for the English Muffin instructions. So, I did what any deer would do in this situation, I turned my head quickly and darted off to the internet recipe.
I smiled as I prepared the ingredients for the internet recipe and almost whistled a tune out loud. If you have ever watched the movie Fried Green Tomatoes that was the movie score in my head. Happy go lucky with flour flying in the air causing my eyewear to become cloudy making my eyes water while squinting at the handwritten words I had jotted down. I began to ponder when did my handwriting become so different? I sensed that someone wearing rose colored glasses was not so far from my flour covered glasses at this moment.
But, I carried on with putting the dough together and allowing the time needed for it to rest, and rise to this glorious occasion so I can attain my goal of this rainy day. Keeping in mind that humidity plays a part in bread making. Indeed, my head bigger than my talents.
When working on a new recipe for the first time I do honestly try and follow the instructions to the letter. I struggled cooking that first batch on my new griddle, and debated weather to just pop them in the oven and call it a day. Then the beast rose in me (stubbornness) and I thought, “Naw.” Did I say thought, I actually said it out loud as if the cooking masters could hear me. Martha included…
I gave the muffins there instructed allotted time, and then added more and yet again more, until I smartened up so to speak and I put a tent of foil over the muffins on the griddle. Now, in hindsight if I’d not been so stubborn I could have at first thought had the muffins on the griddle for the 4 minutes each side and popped them in the pre-heated 350 F oven to finish them off.
All would have been well with the world on this blasted rainy day, if I’d listened to the little bird in my head that guides me from time to time when I step off in the wrong direction. No, I’m not nuts by saying that it’s just the thought we all get when standing by the edge of a cliff and our common sense tells us to step back a pace or two. I actually was getting tired just standing there watching my goals for the day disappear into the dark misty fog of the late afternoon.
The tent foil worked, but this adventure did indeed take longer than it should have. I wouldn’t say I mastered this first batch of English Muffins but they tasted alright.
They looked fine and tasted alright, but I was not a happy camper because my goal of mastering the English Muffin didn’t go as planned. I had put together Martha’s big orange baking handbook recipe and after the first rise it needed to go into the fridge for one hour. By this time I needed to get off my feet and sip a cup of tea to make this day appear better.
I’m not saying I failed at this first attempt. But, the lessons I gathered from this experience today was don’t count your chickens before they hatch. Martha would have to wait until tomorrow… Sorry Martha I am not worthy, today that is.
The next day came with more rain and very little time could be spent out in my garden which I truly love and enjoy. Even if the slugs and snails find my garden a delightful table of food that I so graciously prepared for them. But, hey ho that’s another topic for another day.
Martha’s Big Orange Baking Handbook
Perhaps, the reason I’d only looked through the 415 pages of the baking handbook was because she called it a handbook. Nightmares of school raced though my head every time I see a handbook. There will always be a test that will always be graded at the end of the day. I don’t know about you folks, but I’ve always not enjoyed test at school. The learning aspect of school was enjoyable without a doubt but the dreaded test score with a big red ink pen across the right hand top corner always made me quiver with gloom. Sort of like today upon finally reading the entirety of Martha’s instructions for the English Muffins.
Now every thing made sense among the many paragraphs and I got to work with my goals replaced with a certainty that I’d not fail today and I would indeed master the English Muffin that Martha gave instruction for in her heavy big orange baking handbook. Somehow the notion of “Handbook” was not scary any longer and over 6 decades of living on this grand planet I finally don’t fear being graded and having a red pen score at the top right hand of the page. Good things come to those that wait. Now that is a moto I’ll carry with me.
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