My latest article on tuja wellness features one of my favorite muffins recipes from the pages of my first book, The Allergy-Free Cook Bakes Bread. They come together fast, have a pop of sweetness from the crumble topping, and offer a lovely contrast with sweet, moist bananas and tart rhubarb.
Head over to read it right now: Gluten Freedom – Banana Rhubarb Crumble Muffins.
Happy Easter!
Check out my latest article from the Standard with vegan breakfast favourites (and why you should eat them!)
If you get the paper, you’ll see the tasty photos in there, too.
Please note they renamed my Tofu Scramble to “Cheesy Veggie and Tofu”.
But it really, truly is a bang-up tofu scramble.
Click here to read!
Okay, perhaps not really a disaster. But regardless, it was a frustrating 60 minutes!
Sometimes the gluten-free (and vegan) yeast-bread creations can be a little daunting, as they are a little unpredictable. I love watching them rise and enjoying fresh bread, but knowing the err available to yeast-driven baked goods can sometimes stress me out a little and I’ll opt for some quick breads instead.
this could have been the end for you...
Today I decided to re-test another recipe, and alas, get mixing.
After it whizzed, was fragrant of its [secret!] flavouring, and ready to go, I spread it in the waiting plan and popped it in the oven with the light on (my favourite rising destination) and set the timer for 40 minutes to remind me to check it a little early.
As the clocked began to tick down, I busily began to tidy, and at 38:53…. The power went off.
Trying not to panic – although I was – I fretted over a the thoughts that flew through my head – first, re-testing a recipe was something I planned on doing today; second – I wanted fresh, warm bread slathered with rich peanut butter and a bowl of soup for lunch; third – I didn’t want to freeze the dough; fourth, gluten-free flours aren’t the cheapest! And so forth, and so on.
Regardless, I let it rise, hoping that the power would return or I could somehow make my way to my sister’s, assuming hers wasn’t off, if I carefully shielded the rising dough from the frigid cold. When I checked the dough later, and saw it doubled in size (sigh… Almost hoping it wouldn’t have worked out), I called my sister, a seasoned and previously full-time pastry/bread chef, for the 411.
We decided I would freeze it, so I went back into the kitchen and, full of regret and a rumbly belly, wrapped ‘er up nice and tight, and began the retreat to the deep freeze, assuming it would stay the coldest.
As I took my last step downstairs…
The power went on.
And 40 minutes later, I enjoyed my lunch.
...to be slathered with peanut butter
