Read My Prairie Cookbook Online
Authors: Melissa Gilbert
3 cups (720 ml) heavy whipping cream
12 large eggs
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Toasted bread, for serving
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Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C).
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Pour the cream into a 9-by-13-inch (23-by-33-cm) glass baking dish. Crack the eggs directly into the dish, spacing them out evenly in the cream. Season liberally with salt and pepper. Feel free to get fancy here. Use garlic salt or even yummier truffle salt.
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Bake for 45 to 60 minutes. Serve hot over toast.
I especially love to make these muffins a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving. They get everyone in the winter holiday mood. I serve these warm with cream cheese to spread on them. I usually leave out the golden raisins, but they do make a lovely addition if you like raisins.
Makes 24 muffins
2 cups (250 g) self-rising flour
¾ cup (165 g) firmly packed light brown sugar
¼ cup (50 g) granulated sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup (1 stick/115 g) unsalted butter, softened
1 cup (145 g) golden raisins
¾ cup (180 ml) buttermilk
1 (15-ounce/425-g) can pumpkin puree (not pumpkin pie filling)
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
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Preheat the oven to 400°F (205°C). Grease and flour two standard 12-cup muffin pans.
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Mix together in a food processor (or use a handheld electric mixer) the flour, brown sugar, granulated sugar, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt. Add the butter and blend until it resembles coarse meal. Add the raisins, buttermilk, pumpkin puree, and eggs, and mix until moist.
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Divide the batter among the prepared muffin cups, filling them three-quarters full. Bake for 18 minutes, or until lightly browned on top. Remove them to a wire rack to cool.
So easy, and your family will be so excited to wake up to these blueberry-studded muffins. Nothing gets teenagers out of bed faster than the smell of baking in the morning. To you, it will smell like Victory.
Makes 12 muffins
3 cups (375 g) all-purpose flour
1 cup (200 g) granulated sugar
4 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
½ cup (120 ml) vegetable oil, plus extra for the pan
1 cup (240 ml) milk
1½ cups (255 g) blueberries (preferably fresh, but thawed frozen will work too)
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Preheat the oven to 400°F (205°C). Grease and flour a standard 12-cup muffin pan.
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Mix the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in a large bowl. Combine the eggs and oil in a small bowl, add the milk, and then stir into the dry ingredients until just moistened. Stir the blueberries into the mixture.
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Divide the batter among the prepared muffin cups, filling them halfway. Bake for 20 minutes, or until lightly golden on top. Remove them to a wire rack to cool.
There was a lot of apple fritterâmaking on
Little House
. Ma was always rolling dough for fritters. Now, I'm not knocking fritters, but I prefer not to send my kids off to school completely overloaded with sugar. So I turned those apple fritters into muffins. There's still sugar, but not quite as much. I think Ma would be proud, don't you?
Makes 12 muffins
1½ cups (180 g) all-purpose flour
½ cup (100 g) granulated sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ cup (50 g) vegetable shortening
1 large egg
½ cup (120 ml) milk
1 cup (130 g) finely chopped apples (I like to mix sweet and tart varieties)
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cup (65 g) firmly packed light brown sugar
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cup (40 g) chopped walnuts
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Preheat the oven to 400°F (205°C). Grease and flour a standard 12-cup muffin pan.
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Mix the flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and ½ teaspoon of the cinnamon in a large bowl. Blend the shortening, egg, milk, and apples in another bowl. Add to the dry ingredients and stir until thoroughly blended.
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Divide the batter among the prepared muffin cups, filling them three-quarters full. Top with the brown sugar, nuts, and the remaining ½ teaspoon of the cinnamon. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, until lightly golden on top. Remove them to a wire rack to cool.
I fell in love with gingerbread on the set of
Little House
. Every Christmas episode we shot, there would be gingerbread somewhere on the set, either right in a scene we were doing, or one of the women from the crew or maybe one of the kids' moms would make it for snacking. I would sneak little bites, hoping that no one would notice. But they noticed all right, particularly when the entire loaf of gingerbread was gone. Across the soundstage I'd hear someone call, “Half-Pint! Where's the gingerbread?” Then, inevitably, I'd be caught and tickled into promising never to do it again.
I broke that promise more times than I can count. Gingerbread and tickles? What kid wouldn't break a promise if that were the result?
Serves 9