Graduation Lemon Ricotta Muffins

No, I didn't abandon my blog entirely, but I must admit, it probably isn't good form to post once every six months.  In fact, this post is something I should've posted several months ago, but better late than never.  So, without further ado...

I'm the youngest in a family of three girls.  Although both of my sisters teased me mercilessly, my middle sister, Erin, was my constant foil.  We were three years apart in school and often found ourselves attending the same educational establishments.  She was the cool girl with an attitude and I was the know-it-all dweeb-ette.  I couldn't compete with her awesomely coifed bangs or her knowledge of all things Skid Row, so I did what any annoying, but brainy, younger sister would do and took every chance I got to make her feel stupid.  In turn, she mocked everything I did and clawed my arm with her fingernails when she was particularly annoyed with me.  Aww, sisterly love...

When I was in the third grade and Erin was in the sixth, we attended something called "Skate Night," held by our elementary school.  The roller rink was on the other side of town, so our parents shared carpooling duties with Erin's friend's parents.  I remember having a great time with all my third grade friends.  We did the chicken dance, the limbo, and the hokey pokey because that was what it was all about.  At the end of the night, I looked around for my sister and her friends.  Hmm... nowhere to be found.  I stood by the doors and watched as all the other kids left.  Finally, it was just me and some employee vaccuming the remnants of popcorn and cotton candy from the bright purple carpet.  Did I mention the "other" side of town was also the "bad" side of town?  I was scared and concerned I would have to spend the night sleeping in the dumpster outside the roller rink (okay, so I added the last part for dramatic effect, but I really was scared.)  Fortunately, I hadn't spent my last dime on a snow cone and used it to call my parents.  My dad showed up a half hour later, fuming mad at my sister.  Her explanation for all this was "I forgot she was there."  No apologies- that wasn't her style.

Don't get me wrong, even with our constant fighting, she occasionally showed she cared.  I've reminded her of this incident and she has no recollection.  As most kids do, I loved Halloween.  The Halloween of '89 was quite memorable for a terrible reason- devastating in kid terms.  Around lunch time, I started to feel sick.  I spent the rest of the day trying to rally, but to no avail.  I made it through four houses of trick-or-treating and had to call it a night.  My mom insisted I stay home the next morning, but she couldn't get off work.  Instead, she left Erin home with me.  We spent the entire day watching TV and she shared her Halloween candy with me.  It was the best day-after-Halloween ever.  I loved the candy, but I loved hanging out with my sister even more.

Fast forward to adulthood.  Believe it or not, Erin and I are great friends now.  Therefore, I was incredibly proud to watch her graduate with her Masters of Social Work from Arizona State University this past Spring.  She got to gloat a little bit- her "brainy" sister hasn't acheived this.  I don't mind.  She worked hard for it.  In addition to going to school, she was also a second grade teacher throughout most of the program.  For the last year of the program, she attended classes, worked at an internship, and worked overnights on the weekends.  If that isn't dedication, I don't know what is.

Erin in the middle with her friends Stephanie and Chris

Graduation weekend was quite a celebration.  My sister Kristen and I both flew in.  Amidst all the fun, I made a batch of Lemon Ricotta Muffins.  I adapted the recipe from Cooking Light- my changes include double the lemon zest and the addition of vanilla extract.  I also omited the turbinado sugar the original recipe has you adding to the top.  Unless you eat the muffins right away, the sugar becomes sticky and unappealing after storage.  I made them at home the first time, with some adjustments for high altitude (I live around 6700' above sea level.)  The texture was different when I made them in AZ, but they had the same great flavor .

You will need:

1 3/4 cup All Purpose Flour (add an extra two tablespoons at high altitude)

3/4 cup sugar 

2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder (cut back to 2 teaspoons at high altitude)

1/4 teaspoon salt

3/4 cup part-skim ricotta cheese

1/2 cup water (add an extra tablespoon at high altitude)

1/4 cup olive oil

the zest of two large lemons

the juice of one large lemon

1 large egg

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

 

To Make:

Preheat oven to 375°.  Combine flour and next 3 ingredients (through salt); make a well in center. Combine ricotta, water, olive oil, lemon juice and zest, egg, and vanilla extract.  Add ricotta mixture to flour mixture, stirring just until moist.  Place 12 muffin cup liners in a muffin pan and spray with cooking spray. Divide batter among muffin cups. Bake at 375° for 16 minutes or until a wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool 5 minutes in pan on a wire rack.

I'm sure at this point, you would love to see a picture of these lovely, lemony muffins.  Unfortunately, I only took a picture with my phone and it looked terrible.  This is unacceptable- I took two credits of food styling in college.  Mom and Dad- I promise to get your money's worth and will deliver some awesome food photography in the future.

This post was mostly created to brag about my sister, but the muffins really are good.  My sister Kristen brought some of the leftovers back with her to MN.  My picky brother-in-law enjoyed them.  My young nephews wondered why I didn't frost the cupcakes I baked.  On a side night, I also made the German Spaghetti Sauce during graduation weekend.  Erin is a vegetarian, so I made it with Morning Star faux beef crumbles and it was delicious.  I also simmered it in the crock pot so I could hang out at the pool with my sisters without worrying about it.

German Spaghetti Sauce

My Grandma Ethel didn't always create culinary gold when she entered the kitchen. This isn't to say she was a bad cook, she was just a bit inattentive. The phone would ring and she would leave dinner cooking on the stove until the smoke alarm informed her it was done. She had a special gift for burning half of everything she made. The other half would be perfectly cooked and delicious. She never acknowledged any difference between the perfectly cooked half and the half that was burned to a crisp. I assume this was because she grew up in a family of thirteen kids during the Depression. Throwing away food would have been a sin. While the rest of us vultures would fight over the golden brown cookies, she would happily munch on the burned ones, washing them down with a cup of day-old coffee, reheated on the stove.

She was not without her flaws, but she definitely had her specialities. One of those was her spaghetti sauce. When I say "Grandma's spaghetti sauce," you probably think of an Italian grandma, cooking up her authentic "gravy" recipe. This is not what my grandma's spaghetti sauce was like. Picture a German farm girl from Iowa cooking up her version of what she thought spaghetti sauce should be. Henceforth, the name "German Spaghetti Sauce." The aforementioned Italian granny would be appalled by this recipe. For one, it contains no basil or garlic (note: I did add it to the recipe below, but in small amounts as to stay true to the original, but you can leave it out.) Most shocking of all, it contains worcestershire sauce and a big slug of brown sugar. So if you're looking for an authentic Italian recipe, don't make this. However, if you're looking for a tasty tomato-based sauce to go with your noodles, this might just be for you.

Grandma's spaghetti sauce took most of the day to cook. Inevitably, we'd find ourselves hanging out in the kitchen to be within smelling distance of the masterpiece. Given my grandma's propensity to char food beyond recognition, we would take turns giving the sauce a stir, as to prevent any dinner disasters. Just when we thought dinnertime would never arrive, Grandma would tell us it was time to dig in. As we filled our plates, she'd remind us that getting a bay leaf on our plate was good luck. Looking back, I'm fairly certain she said this to save herself the trouble of fishing the bay leaves out of the pot and so we wouldn't eat them if they ended up on our plate.

My dad and his brother were older than their four sisters and the only two with kids at the time. My sisters and I, my three cousins (all girls), and my youngest aunt all sat at the kids' table in the kitchen. We didn't mind not having a spot at the big dining room table- sitting in the kitchen gave us hope that we might sneak second helpings. Alas, this hope was always in vain. there were never leftovers and any second helpings belonged to Grandpa. After the last bit of sauce was soaked up by garlic bread, Grandma would retire to her recliner and be sound asleep by 7. The kids would clear the table and my mom and aunts would clean up the wreckage. Soon, we would all make a beeline for a slice of one of Grandma's pies- from the "good half," of course.

Grandma Ethel's "German" Spaghetti Sauce

Brown 1 lb ground beef with one small diced onion

Add to this:

1- 48 oz can/bottle tomato juice (Grandma tip: don't add all at once. Add as desired as it cooks.)
1-15 oz can tomato sauce
1- 12 oz can tomato paste
2 bay leaves
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
1/4 tsp chili powder
1/2 tsp ground oregano
2 Tbsp worcestershire sauce
Salt and pepper to taste
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 cup chopped celery
2 tsp dried basil (my addition)
2 cloves minced garlic (my addition)

Simmer a half a day or longer, stirring occassionally.