Thursday, July 10, 2025 Quest for the Perfect EM

English muffins. How hard can it be to make them? Let me count the ways. You won’t be bored, I promise!

Batch #1 was straight outta the Better Homes and Gardens cookbook. We’ll call that one The BHG. Used our 3.5” biscuit cutter. Easy peasy without a huge time commitment, but they didn’t rise much and were a wee bit small for the egg sausage (or bacon) breakfast sandwiches that hubby likes to make. Also, there wasn’t much in the way of Nooks and Crannies, an important feature of EMs. By the way, you don’t bake these, you cook them on a griddle.

In search of a better recipe I went down the rat hole of google searching. Everyone thinks their recipe is the best. It would be refreshing to have someone say, “My recipe is fairly average, but everyone in my family likes it.” I checked Pinterest and YouTube as well. Overwhelmed by all the possibilities I chose one almost at random from Preppy Kitchen (PK).

Batch #2, The PK. The recipe was much fussier with more ingredients and took more time. I used one of our nice goblets (Grandma Lois’s) to get a larger diameter of 4 inches. The dough was hard to handle, the EM’s were sky high and expanded a bit while rising. I couldn’t get them to cook all the way through on the griddle and had to finish them in the oven. Decided to purchase a 4-inch cutter for the next batch. Discovered in my researches that the best way to open an EM is to insert a fork into the middle and go around the edge that way. Works like a charm!

Batch #3, Return of The BHG (not to be confused with Revenge of the BHG). Let’s review the definition of insanity: repeating the same actions and expecting different results. I thought I could improve upon the performance of The BHG which was so much simpler to make. The only difference to the final product was that these were even more like hockey pucks than the first batch. Hubby valiantly ate them anyway. Maybe it really was Revenge of the BHG.

Batch #4, Return of The PK. I was older and wiser by now and resigned to the idea that excellence was going to take more time and effort. I knew how to avoid the perils of the past and press on toward the goal of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Oops – sorry. Something in that sentence triggered one of my Bible memory verses. Progress was made. The final muffins were 5” in diameter, somewhat monstrously large in comparison to the store bought ones. My husband suggested they should be called “English Empire Muffins.” But they weren’t too high and I figured out a better way to cook them on the griddle without finishing them in the oven.

Voila!





What? You were bored? Oh dear. Perhaps “promise” was too strong a word.

Brought to you by the Kitchen Bee (closely related to Lynniebee). (Very closely.)

I’ll probably use a fork to break this post open in the morning.

Wednesday, July 9, 2025 Summers of Yore

I look at this photo of me and my brother way back when, and although I don’t remember that particular moment in time, I am brought back to summers of yore. What a delight on those hot days to jump into our little plastic backyard pool.

My memories of the summers of childhood are shot through with warmth, color, happy sounds, and the unique eating pleasures of the season. Back then our watermelons had seeds in them – is that a hardship story now?

We didn’t have air conditioning, another hardship story that wasn’t really too much of a hardship. Sleeping at night involved catching regular breezes from the oscillating fan and turning our pillows over to get to the cooler side once in a while. Uncomfortable, but not unbearable.

I’m certain that there must have been plenty of mosquitos in my life back then, but my brain has mercifully chosen to excise them from the nostalgia program that I’m currently enjoying.

I went barefoot all summer long in my childhood. The soles of my feet were tough as nails, unlike the weak and easily penetrated soles of today.

Dad took us swimming fairly frequently at the lake nearest to us, one of the advantages of living in the state of 10,000 lakes. And when we came back, Mom often had supper ready for us to eat in the cool of the back porch.

Life wasn’t always perfect, but strained through the passing of time my mind has selected only some of the best parts of those days to remember. Thank you, Lord!

I’ll probably delete this in the mornings of yore.

Tuesday, July 8, 2025 Imagine the Fonts

Half the world is composed of people
who have something to say and can’t, and the other half who have nothing to say and keep on saying it.
Robert Frost

I can’t imagine a man really enjoying a book
and only reading it once.
C.S. Lewis

Vulgarity is no substitute for wit.
Violet Grantham, Downton Abbey

Confidence is silent.
Insecurities are LOUD.
Unknown

The world does not read the Bible,
The world reads Christians.
Charles Spurgeon

If we trust, we do not worry.
If we worry, we do not trust.
Amy Carmichael

Rats, I picked out a bunch of nifty fonts for those quotes, but apparently WordPress does not support them. You’ll just have to imagine them.

Feel free to share quotes you enjoy in the comments.

I’ll probably realize I have nothing to say and keep on saying it in the morning.

Monday, July 7, 2025 Fluffy Danger

Suppose you got news that a darling little fluffy seagull chick was just outside your domicile. Would you:

A. Jump up, grab your camera, and run out to get a photo, or
B. Say, “Oh, that’s interesting,” and go right on with what you were doing.

If you answered A, you are a kindred spirit. Read on. If you answered B, I wonder if you wandered into this blog post entirely by mistake. No one will fault you for leaving, but you may find the proceeding story will vindicate you.

As it happens, I did recently have an opportunity to jump up, grab my camera, and go in pursuit of the aforementioned baby seagull. I took a few photos, getting closer and closer. The baby didn’t seem to mind. I like to think that we were having a moment.


Suddenly, a loud noise interrupted my reverie, accompanied by the sight of a large seagull swooping down toward me.


I yelped and backed off, but was dive bombed twice more by this very protective parent as I tried to get away.


Since I yelped each time, the crowd of kids on the beach got quite a show. You’re welcome.

Fun times!

If you hear me yelping in the morning, you’ll know I had to delete this.