Happy Sunday, everyone!
Every Wednesday, blogging buddy Aaron over at The Confusing Middle posts a “Sunday Scribblings” prompt for other bloggers to ponder and respond to on the following Sunday. If you’re a blogger looking for more inspiration, I highly recommend jumping in and joining in on the fun!
This week’s prompt is: Muffin!
In my sophomore year of high school, our English teacher told a joke that might be my favorite cheesy joke of all time:
There are two muffins baking in an oven.
The first muffin turns to the second and says, “It’s getting hot in here, huh?”
The second muffin stares, shocked, and exclaims, “HOLY COW! A TALKING MUFFIN!”
Get it? He was shocked about a talking muffin even though he also was a—
It gets me every time.
Breakfast pastries are pretty much my favorite food, and muffins are no exception. In fact, I’m pretty pissed that I missed the week where the Sunday Scribblings prompt was “Croissant” because my fiancé and I have a weekly tradition where we drive a half hour to the closest French bakery for fresh and tasty croissants for the week. But I digress…
Breakfast pastries are the real deal. They’ve always been something safe for me to retreat to when my picky-and-somewhat-tempermental stomach and I are eating out. When I was in college and didn’t trust many of the foods in the cafeteria, a nice croissant or muffin was a safe bet.
Yes, I did just say that 90% of my college diet was pastries, why do you ask?
While muffins are not the first thing that I gravitate toward when I enter a bakery, I do find myself occasionally craving a muffin. Part of me thinks that this is due to the fact that my body is becoming increasingly intolerant of sugar and muffins often have a bit less sugar than some other breakfast pastries I could indulge in. This craving often also comes with a cinnamon craving, which I find dually interesting (if anyone has any idea why someone might crave cinnamon, I’m all ears!). I am also one of those people who prefer muffin bottoms to muffin tops. Please don’t hate me.
In the past, on those days where I would wake up craving a muffin, Dan and I would drive to our local branch of the store My Favorite Muffin. We actually used to have a My Favorite Muffin stand in the food court at our local mall when I was little, so it gave me some 90s nostalgia when I went there. If you don’t have a store like this around you, they’re essentially a bakery that specializes in muffins (I know, shocking). They have many different flavors of full-sized muffins, as well as a variety of mini muffins. You can get other things there, but why would you? Give me a box of muffins and I’m all set!
Unfortunately, when COVID hit, our local branch closed up shop. When I searched for the closest store, their outdated map not only said that the one near us was still open, but that there was a store about 20 minutes away. One phone call confirmed for me that the store 20 minutes away was also closed, so I dragged Dan to the closest branch…about an hour and a half away. To answer your unspoken question, no, their muffins aren’t that good, but when you’ve got a craving, you’ve got a craving. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with a craving that morning, because the store was packed, their inventory was draining quickly, and my anxiety spiked because of the crowd. By the time we made it to the counter, they were out of most of the best muffins. Yeah, we won’t be making that trip again.
Since My Favorite Muffin has closed up their local shop, I have been on the lookout for a new place to get delicious muffins. Our local bagel shop has good muffins, but they only make a few per day (if they make them at all), and they sell out fast. Our other local bakeries have okay-ish muffins, but nothing that would make me choose a muffin if I was there for breakfast.
I’ve recently found that our local crème-puffery has really excellent muffins along with their delicious scone selection (another great breakfast pastry that isn’t always super sweet!), although they don’t make muffins every day. The last time Dan and I ventured into the store for some scones, I noticed there were no muffins and asked if they would be making them soon.
“I don’t think we’re making any today. Sorry about that.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I think I’ll live.” The cashier laughed at my response, so of course I had to take the joke further, like a Renata do.
“I mean, if I don’t live, my blood is on your hands. I hope you’re okay with that.”
Don’t stand between me and my baked goods. You’ve been warned.