A Muffin Off By The Ovenly Challenged

It was with GREAT optimism that I challenged Single Parent Dad to a ‘Muffin Off’.

Knowing what I know now I'm wondering if I was just plain delusional with a hint of foolishness thrown in for good measure. At the time of the challenge I was confident that I could produce beautiful muffins far superior to his.

He is the maker of 'packet bish bash bosh buns' and I am just 'ovenly challenged'.

After putting on my daughter’s apron (there is no photographic evidence of this, but if you imagine an elephant sporting a flannel you are there) and putting the Police with Reggatta de Blanc on the ipod (classic muffin making music) I followed English Mum’s recipe which I found really easy to follow.

I was delighted with her tip about overworking the gluten and decided that this was the reason that everything I bake looks and tastes like concrete.

It started so well, I even used the special Mickey spatula for luck.

Everything sniffed (the 3 year old) and mixed (me) I nervously waited whilst the oven did its thang. I kept chanting the well known mantra ‘A watched muffin doesn’t flourish’ or something like that and kept my eyes averted.

The failed noise From Family Fortunes rang out as I removed my muffins from the oven (Uh Urrrrrr doesn’t quite do it). I imagine the husband was sat in the office (next door to the kitchen) rolling his eyes back in his head as I swore repeatedly.

They weren't burnt, they were cooked but there was something wrong ...

Only I could produce ‘Dwarf Muffins’. Please note the pony at the front is there only to distract your eye for the shortcomings of my baking, not to make my muffins look bigger than they are. Note also the dimmed lighting ... Ahem.

Not only did they come out dwarfed but they were also peaked. This meant that when I tried to disguise them for any photographic evidence each one ended up looking like a hillock with a moat. Even the chocolate sprinklies decided to bugger off into the moat for a swim pushing the humongous muffin cases further away from the teeny tiny muffins.

The only saving grace is that they tasted ‘alright’ and ‘not bad’ (husband). ‘Alright’ is actually about a 6 out of 10; after all he has endured nearly 9 years of my deliberate poisoning baking attempts. The 3 year old ate one and the 4 year old who doesn't eat buns ate two muffins.

I made husband do a repeat tasting post icing. The icing was still runny and he agreed that the muffins were far tastier without. The phrase 'you can't polish a turd' springs to mind.

Tonight, when I asked for a direct muffin quote from the 4 year old she simply coughed over the remaining muffins and went on her way.

I have let English Mum down. What kind of baking ambassador am I? I'd like to blame the baking powder ... or the overworking of my mix.

As for Single Parent Dad, at the time of writing I haven't seen his attempts, but I don't need to. I know that they will be much better than mine.

Now, where did I put that recipe for humble pie?

To find out how Single parent Dad got on meander over on here.
If anyone would like to take on the muffin meme, just let me know!