Anyone who knows my title of High Priestess of Rhubarb will not be surprised to learn that I also chair the Committee of Cranberry Cavorters. The only thing rhubarb has on cranberries is their international proliferation. When I lived in Italy and my mother wanted to visit, I said, “(long pause) Okay. But bring cranberries.”
Cranberries are also known as Bounceberries- and they do bounce, as my two most rambunctious children – no, not the youngest (they know who they are) skillfully demonstrated off each others heads in a cranberry bog a few years back.
Like Rhubarb, cranberries are seasonal, so I’d better get busy:
I was looking for a new muffin recipe…I am bored with mine. I found one that looked good after I took out all the suspect parts (it was trying to do a whole “harvest” thing which I quickly lose patience with) and stripped it down to a simple cranberry muffin. I began to put it together.
Suddenly I had a panic attack,
Wait a minute. Why had I committed to taking my son to his soccer game today, there was no way I could get to work on time and take him, how did this happen? God, Jessica, what is wrong with you? what were you thinking..two o’clock, plus one and half, more like two- why do these coaches insist on talking so much..half hour driving, drop him off, nope. No way…I can’t do it…oh-
I was working up a nice frenzy and then, as I noticed the melted butter sitting on the counter that for some strange reason I had forgotten to put into the batter, I suddenly remembered it was Saturday, not Sunday. Oh thank god, I’m not an idiot.
My world as right as it is seemingly going to get, I finished my backwards assembly and baked them off.
Let the season of cranberry begin!