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I don’t relegate breakfast or breafasty foods to 10:30 a.m. and earlier. Fortunately, the Oddinvore doesn’t either, though he does appear to have some issue separating the time of day from the food. Case in point: it’s 7:30 at night, and I’m in the kitchen, trying to scoop up and carry my camera, drape my camera cord around my neck, pluck a sheet of a paper scrawled over with a recipe from behind sixteen magnets on the fridge, all while saving a bit of hand/arm room for the reason I initially walked through the kitchen door, this evening’s icing on the cake, its idiom: a bowl of Meijer brand fruit rings cereal.

“Don’t forget your breakfast,” the Oddnivore says, almost offhandedly, as he continues arranging magnets on the refrigerator door. (I did not know three-year-olds possessed the ‘offhand’ capability, but there he stands, distracted but giving advice.)

Oh…thanks, O. I won’t.

I leave the Oddnivore to his magnets (he tells me he is composing a message to Kayla, one of my best high school friends whom the Oddnivore has appropriated as his own, a bit like the transmuting of cereal into dinner nosh, though without literal consumptive implications) and take my balancing act to the the desk. I’m set on spending time figuring out a blog post for another breakfast abandonee, the muffin.


When the Oddnivore turns to me and asks, “You make me my muffins, Mommy?,” what can I say? The Oddnivore sees me chowing down on muffins whenever, wherever I can get my hands on them, so….

Of course I will. I just need to find a recipe.

This is where good intentions can derail. Recipe acquisition is trickier when the primary ingredients of baking (eggs, milk, butter) are automatically excluded. Thankfully, I benefit from the growing popularity of veganism. Let the vegans figure out how to make baked goods without milk, butter, eggs–good/tasty things.

So I consult the vegans and find a recipe for lemon/blueberry muffins sans all the things I need it to be sans of, and all I’ve left to do is take out the wheat flour and toss in some Gluten Free All Purpose Baking Flour from Bob’s Red Mill. I don’t have lemon or blueberry on hand (sorry, Oddnivore, for excluding all excitement from your muffins), but I decide to give the recipe a roll anyway. Here’s the breakdown on the recipe (including the ingredients I omitted for this first, albeit blander, run through):


(The ingredients in brackets are those I omitted this time through.)

2 c. flour (I used Gluten Free All Purpose Baking Flour from Bob’s Red Mill)

1 1/2 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp. salt

[lemon zest fr. two lemons]

3/4-1 c. sugar

1 c. milk

1/3 c. canola oil

[1 tsp. lemon extract; I tossed in some vanilla just to jazz these up a titch]

1 tbsp. apple cider vinegar

[1 1/2 c. fresh/frozen blueberries]

The How-To

Preheat the oven to 375. In a medium bowl, combine the flour, baking soda, salt and zest. In a large bowl, combine the sugar, milk, oil, extract, and vinegar. Add the dry ingredients to the wet; don’t overstir. (I found the gluten-free flour took a lot to even combine/wet properly, so I did stir it a bit more than maybe I ought, but the result did not, to my knowledge, suffer. The muffins rose nicely.) If using blueberries/other fruit, fold in now. Fill muffin tins (I used paper liners) 2/3 full, and bake the muffins 22 minutes/until a toothpick, knife, whatever comes out clean. Cool in the tin for 5 minutes, then remove for further cooling.

I made a batch of these little beauties while the Oddnivore blessed me with his afternoon nap. When he got up, he insisted on eating three, maybe even the ones that posed for this pre-consumption photo shoot. Sucks to be a sexy muffin model.