On Break-ins & Perfect, Easy Pumpkin Muffins

a life update, a balm, a word from MFK Fisher

Because I know nearly all of you by name, I like to imagine us at work in the kitchen throughout the week. My mind draws up the readers with twins (yes, there’s more than one of you!), the empty nesters, the farmers, the working moms (which is, of course, all moms). I imagine soggy Cheerios in the sink, sticky little toes picking up crumbs as they toddle along, velvet smooth sunrises alone in bed with a coffee and newspaper. I think of the artists, bravely squaring themselves to face the keyboard, blank page, rejection letter, or canvas. I wonder at how brave some of you are. And I wonder how to offer you the kitchen in a way that enlarges your heart towards the life you already have—the home you currently possess.

We recently had a very real and disturbing reminder of just how precious true home is. While on the road in Nebraska this past August, our brother-in-law called to tell us that someone had broken into our house. Three men entered through the back bedroom, shattering the sliding glass doors, and ransacked everything that looked promising. With the security alarm out of commission, they were able to spend the next thirty minutes tearing our home apart. 

We pulled over to the side of a cornfield to watch the video Chris had taken. Together, with trembling hands, we took in the chaos of a once orderly house; clothes everywhere, bedroom full of broken glass. The fireplace was dismantled as the thieves looked for a safe where there was none. A closet full of vacuum cleaners, modems, and boxes looked like the scene of a hurricane. There were places you could not step for how much stuff had been strewn across the floor. When the video ended, I opened the door to our truck, planted my knees in the grass, and screamed.

We flew back quickly and spent the next eight days going from hotel to house to clean things up. On the second day, I went into our bedroom. Every intimate possession we owned—birth certificates, wedding pictures, underwear, a boxed-up wedding dress—were dumped on the ground in search of real treasures. I swept the glass into a paper towel and looked to see what might be missing. I put love notes back in their hiding places and washed up all of my panties. I tried to pray. I felt a bubble of ache pushing up from some previously unacknowledged place in my heart: my God, did I love this house.

Our lives became a swirl of installing new cameras, floodlights, and sensors. The LAPD told us to buy a gun since they were overwhelmed with the flood of burglaries (10,000 this year in L.A. alone). They could no longer ensure a speedy response or protection. My husband spent weeks reading legal reports on how to purchase a firearm. I went to a firing range to learn how to use a gun clad in a dress with lemons on it. My baby soft hands shook, becoming slick with sweat as the man beside me fired a Desert Eagle with perfect aim. I cried before I went and pondered the million other ways I would rather protect myself, once it was over.

There’s a saying in the Gospels about not building your house on shifting sand. It’s a flyover statement that doesn’t blossom with meaning until it’s a little too late. After the detectives left and the house had been cleared of any major damage, I sat very still in my chair as my memory fed me this long-forgotten verse. 

It hit me like encountering a warm spot in the ocean: nothing we valued was actually gone. Our treasures were passed over; unseen and unharmed by those looking for cash, jewelry, and designer goods. Our journals, wedding pictures, the silver, our dishes, the wine we’d been saving for years, my sourdough starter, and even Tony’s recording studio all remained unmolested. Our house, a messy crime scene, was still in fact a home. There was sadness, fear, exhaustion, and panic. There was also dancing in the kitchen with my husband, having friends over for dinner past midnight, sharing strawberry cake with neighbors, and a flood of love and support I’ve never felt in my city before.

A few days after returning home, I found cleansing sage and Palo Santo on my doorstep from my neighbor Eli (tell me you live in L.A. without telling me you live in L.A.). I rolled the little package between my fingers and thought of all the smells collected in this house to make it a home. A few weeks later, I made these muffins. As one fold of the orange batter overtook another, the gap between my brain and the present closed. My mind—still anticipating an intruder with every creak and pulse of the old floorboards—began to open to the world at hand. Now the house was warm with spice and visions of falls past and all things that are safe in memory. The walls around me shivered with pleasure as I baked.

I think of all of us in October. I think of putting a pot on the hob while dark clouds knit themselves into an impassable front on the western coasts of Florida. How endlessly the world aches these days. Hurricanes Helene and Milton, the escalating wars abroad, the shootings and assassination attempts, October 7th trauma, an impending election that will inevitably piss-off half the country. I blink and something on this fragile globe explodes. Perhaps now, more than ever, we need to attend to the ground of the good which is not so easily shaken. We need to learn, as the inimitable MFK Fischer said in the clutches of World War II, How To Cook A Wolf.

Some of these things are, by the grace of God, actually easy, as perhaps they should be. This recipe is one of them. These are simple, flexible, delicious, and autumnal. The hardest step is browning the butter. If you’ve never done this before, you are in for something special. I promise it’s easier and less sophisticated than it sounds. If you have any doubt as to how to accommodate this recipe to fit your needs, Fischer again lights the way:

“It is all a question of weeding out what you yourself like best to do, so that you can live most agreeable in a world full of an increasing number of disagreeable surprises.”

And it is true. October surprise or not, we can find the good that lasts. 

Home.

Alison Roman’s Maple Muffins (with adjustments)

Ingredients

120 grams or 1 stick + 1 Tablespoon salted butter

145 grams or 1 1/4 cup gluten-free flour or regular all-purpose flour (I like Bob’s Red Mill, but anything that qualifies as a one-to-one swap, made with extra rice flour, should work)

145 grams or 1 1/4 cup whole-wheat pastry flour or oat flour

2 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. baking soda

1 1/4 tsp. salt

2 tsp. cinnamon

1 tsp. ground ginger

1/2 tsp. ground turmeric

1/4 tsp. nutmeg

1 15 oz can pumpkin puree 

3 eggs

100 grams or 1/2 cup brown sugar, maple sugar, or coconut sugar

150 grams or 1/2 cup maple syrup

Special Tools

a muffin tin to hold a dozen regular-sized muffins

muffin liners (please don’t use Pam or waste your lovely butter here)

Technique

Preheat oven // Heat oven to 350 degrees and fill a muffin tin with liners.

Brown butter // In a saucepan, add 120 grams salted butter and turn the heat to medium. For the next four or five minutes, allow the butter to melt and turn a few shades darker than amber. It will begin to smell nutty, toasty, and a bit like popcorn. As it gets closer to being done, the butter will start to foam. In the center of the pale yellow foam, you’ll see blossoms of soft brown butter forming. It will look pale brown in color beneath the bubbling foam. Take it off the heat at this time. If it smells burnt or looks black, you’ve gone too far and need to start again. 

Mix dry ingredients // In a large mixing bowl, combine 145 grams all-purpose flour, 145 grams whole wheat flour, 2 teaspoons baking powder, 1 teaspoon baking soda, 1 1/4 teaspoon salt, 2 teaspoons cinnamon, 1 teaspoon ground ginger, 1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric, and 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg. Stir with a fork or whisk until fully combined.

Mix wet ingredients // In another large mixing bowl, add one 15 oz can pumpkin puree, 3 eggs, 100 grams brown sugar, AND 150 grams maple syrup. Stir until fully combined.

Mix wet and dry ingredients // Add wet and dry together and stir until fully dissolved. If you are not raw-egg-averse, taste the batter and adjust sweetness/spice level to your liking.

Prep muffin tray and bake // With a wooden spoon or spatula, gently fill each tin with batter. These will get pretty full: don’t worry, they won’t overflow when baked. Finally, place the muffins in the preheated oven on a middle rack. Set a timer for 10 minutes, rotate once, and set the time for 10 minutes again.

Test and eat // After the muffins have baked for 20 to 25 minutes, begin checking them by plunging a toothpick or fork or butter knife into the center. It should come out clean, with no streaks of wet batter left behind. Once they’re done, allow to cool for 10 minutes. Enjoy with coffee, tea, and a spooky smile.

Notes

Leftovers… These muffins—if you can stand not eating them all within 24 hours—will last sealed in the fridge for five or six days. To heat them up, I halve them and toast them on my cast iron for 5-10 minutes on one side, and a few more on the other. I finish with a pat of butter.

Chocolate Chips… I can confirm that these are exceptional with bittersweet dark chocolate chips. There was a variety of chocolate chips with pumpkin spice by Lily’s that I used last year and they were excellent.

On Nuts… Any dessert with nuts in it was made by a psychopath. I can’t help you and, to be truthful, I don’t know anyone else who can. 

On Honey… from what I’ve read, maple syrup and honey are fairly similar when it comes to producing the same texture and desired sweetness. I’ve had success in swapping them in a one-to-one ratio in other baking endeavors. However, the magic of the recipe is in the combination of maple syrup and browned butter. While I think honey would be lovely here, I don’t think it will produce quite the same effect.

On Flour Swapping… I’m convinced that any starchy flour—buckwheat, oat, wheat, rice—will work here. I’ve done half whole wheat plus half gluten-free (my favorite blend) or half gluten-free plus half oat. The original recipe calls for half whole wheat and half all-purpose. I would steer clear of nut flours like almond meal since this really does need a fluffier, lighter texture to play nicely with the moisture of the pumpkin.

On Squash Swapping… Every. Single. Year. I tell myself that I will make my own pumpkin puree and every single year I do not do it. I think any pumpkin/squash puree will work here. Please comment below if you try this and like the results.

On Sweetness… The sweetness of this recipe has already been halved from its original form. I wouldn’t advise removing any more sugar. Our editor Lo did this by accident and was not pleased with the results.

Baking in my jammies.

Edits by Lauren Ruef

Photos by Tony Anderson