Well, hello Summer Vacation.

That snuck up on us quickly, didn’t it? (My kids would argue that it’s taken forever to get here. Ah, youth.) The boys have already thrown themselves headlong into the summer rhythm of fishing, biking, climbing trees, catching snakes, dabbling toes in brooks and lakes, snacking, and swinging in hammocks.

We spend our Saturdays at the Angelica Farmers’ Market where I am part of the management team and the boys operate their summer business of charming people into buying their hand-made garden and yard sculptures.*

*The salesmen are adorable, tis true, but so are their garden sculptures.

When we get home Saturday afternoon, we are invariably tired to the last man (or wo-man, as the case may be. That’s Woah-Man!) and hungry. We haul in the goodies we purchased from fellow vendors, stash the veggies in appropriate storage containers and collectively collapse on chairs. And then the, “I’m hungry!” chorus starts in earnest. If I haven’t thought ahead this is the moment that makes me regret that acutely.

The very best solution is having something in the freezer to take the edge off of the heat. These frozen treats -Chocolate Covered Banana Pops- or CCBPs, as the kids call them, are a steadfast favourite around here. The frozen bananas taste for all the world like vanilla ice cream pops coated in chocolate! My mom used to make them for me and my siblings when we were little (even though she hated bananas personally) and I’m carrying on the tradition. I keep it up in part because it’s a fabulously healthy snack that feels indulgent but also because I still love eating them myself.

…There is one more reason, though, and it’s a doozy. The chocolate dip for the frozen bananas makes a killer Magic Shell topping for other frozen treats. Didya freeze some strawberries? Throw a few in a bowl and drizzle a little reheated Homemade Magic Shell over the top. Bowls of ice cream cry out for a little tap-tap-tap-break chocolate shell on top. Ice cream cones never looked so good as when they’re dunked into melted chocolate and uprighted to form that little curlicue at the top.

So freeze a few bananas today. Make a double batch of the Magic Shell. Boldly dunk frozen things (or drizzle the melted Magic Shell over the aforementioned chilled goodies.) and remember what it’s like to be a kid in the summer time. This is truly a kid-tested, mother-approved recipe. If you wake up some sweltering morning, you could eat something far worse for breakfast than a CCBP. Not that I’ve done that. Today.

Around a decade ago, my stepmom, Val,  and my dad gave us a seriously burly juicer as a gift. For those of you well-versed in juicers, I’ll name drop for a second here; it’s a Champion. That thing is jet-engine powerful. And I used that jet engine to make juice. Lots of juice. Juice is good for kids, right?* But there’s only so much juice a gal and her crew can consume.

*Well, as long as it’s real juice and not a sugar bomb. I know…

Then one day, while we were hovering around Val’s kitchen looking hungry (because if you’re smart, that is the way you’ll arrange your face in her kitchen so you can taste her food), she offered to whip up a treat for us. She fished some frozen mango strips and bananas from the freezer. She assembled her own juicer and stuffed the frozen fruit into it. The motor whirred and out of the end of the juicer came… what?… seriously???… It was ice cream. Or at least it looked it.

And oh-my-sweet-heavens it tasted like it. It tasted like the most glorious, indulgent ice cream I had ever eaten. I didn’t even wait until it made it to my own personal bowl. My spoon kept going back to the bowl sitting under the juicer. The Evil Genius’s spoon was even faster than mine. Superlatives were used folks.

That was a day that will live in our memories forever, because it was the day we discovered (I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but my kids are standing over me insisting I tell you what they call it) Fruit Poop. If I wasn’t so desensitized by being the mother of five boys, I might have died just now putting that in print for all you to read, but that’s what the kids (including the big, adult one to whom I’m married) like to call it. This name came about while watching the juicer extrude the fruit. Okay, boys. I told them. Can I go back to calling it ice cream now?

All summer long, this is our go-to dessert. And for years, I’ve kept my mango strips, bananas, and whatever other frozen fruit I wanted to use in plastic containers in the freezer. The only problem was that the lids on those dad-burned containers always shattered on me when I tried to pry them off. I tried switching to freezer bags, but those would slip down in and among rock-hard venison loins, bags of peas and corn, and white paper packages containing that half-a-pig we ordered. It drove me batty.

I recently discovered the joy that is Glad Freezerware. It’s made to go into the freezer! (Duh, right?) It’s tough stuff. It’s made to go from freezer to microwave to whatever and is dishwasher safe. SCORE. I’m still trying to figure out a way to make my kids dishwasher safe. That would so simply my life. Glad… can you get on that? Please?

Here’s how I use it for the One-Ingredient Ice Cream. Cut a large amount of ripe mangoes and bananas into strips or one-inch thick chunks. Believe me. You’re going to want this often. Lay them out -not touching- on a parchment lined baking sheet and stash them in the freezer until frozen solid all the way through. The point in freezing them like this is so you don’t have one giant lump of frozen fruit. No matter HOW burly your juicer or food processor, you cannot make something good out of lump-o-fruit.

Do your level best not to snitch them at this point. Yes, I know they’re tasty, but they’re MAGICAL when they’re frozen and turned into fruit poop, er, one-ingredient ice cream.

For best results, transfer the frozen fruit into Glad Freezerware containers, then store in the freezer until ready to use.  You’re going to be grateful those lids don’t shatter when you take them off, because you’ll be taking the lids off all. the. time. to make this ice cream.

The lid, the lid, the lid didn’t shatter!

Again, no snitching! I had to smack a hand away from these containers. Alright. I smacked my own hand away, but the point is that you want what’s coming next!

I am not engaging in hyperbole when I tell you this is some of the best tasting stuff I have ever eaten. And look at the banana “ice cream”.

I do so love this plain. I adore it. But if I was to accidentally trip and drizzle a little chocolate syrup on top, I would love it that way, too. Ahem.

We also love blends. Mango/Banana? Two thumbs up. Blueberry/Banana? Big yes! Have fun with it. You have to taste this to believe it. It tastes like soft-serve frozen custard, but it’s good for you. Holy cow. It’s really good for you. It’s FRUIT!

As part of the Foodbuzz Tastemaker Program, I received Glad Freezerware but the opinions contained in the post are entirely my own. I really do love these containers. For more information on the new Glad Freezerware containers, visit their Facebook page.

We are a dessert family. We like to have a little something most nights after dinner. I think of it as a sweet end to the day and send off to bed. A little hug. A little ruffle of the hair.

Our everyday desserts are easy affairs. They don’t take much time to put together and take advantage of things most everyone has on hand. One of my favourite desserts is individual trifles. Or are they parfaits?

Is it a parfait? Is it a trifle? Either word and either way, it is a dessert that never fails to stop me in my tracks. As a kid I loved it because it looked so special and tasted so festive. As an adult, I still love it for those reasons, but I also love it because it is so ever-lovin’ simple to put together.

For something that takes so little effort to put together, it sure looks pretty and it has an almost unequaled ability to light people’s faces up with one-hundred watt smiles.

If you have Lemon Lime Curd (or another fruit curd) on hand…

…Poundcake in the freezer, and a tub of COOL WHIP whipped topping in the freezer, you are five minutes away from a showstopping dessert that makes the most ordinary night feel extraordinary, but is nice enough to serve to company, too.

For the parfaits pictured here today, I used push-pop moulds and a pastry bag with a frosting tip to pipe in the COOL WHIP. That is -most definitely- strictly optional.

If you don’t want to fuss so much, you can either layer the ingredients in juice glasses or small canning jars. Heck, you can just layer the ingredients on the plate. There is not one right way to do this dessert. The only hard and fast rules are to have all the ingredients on the plate and enjoy it with someone you love. Isn’t it wonderful when desserts are undemanding?

What you add makes it! #coolwhipmoms

Whichever way you make it, you’ll be awfully glad you did!

As part of the Foodbuzz Tastemaker Program, I received coupons for free COOL WHIP Whipped Topping and a stipend. Sponsored posts are purely editorial content that we are pleased to have presented by a participating sponsor. Advertisers do not produce the content. All opinions in this post and all posts here on Foodie With Family are my own.

Is school officially out for the summer where you are? We’re on the cusp here. So very close! We just have a couple standardized tests to finish up and it’s FREEDOM for a couple of hazy, lazy (I wish!) months. My kids want that break so badly they can taste it.

The weather is hot and it’s just too hard to sit at the school table without some sort of encouragement. To that end, I’ve been dangling popsicles like carrots to signify the end of the school day. There is nothing quite like a bit of quiescently frozen whatnot to take your mind off of columns of bubbles that have to be filled in ever so completely without going outside the lines. Popsicles take the sting out of the end of the school year.

Did you ever wonder if the person who invented standardized testing forms is the same one who invented ballots in Florida? But I digress. Politically and otherwise.

The popsicles I’m sharing here today hold the number one spot (not to be dislodged by number two pencils) in our home. Lemony and limey, they’re so creamy they almost eat like an ice cream rather than an ice pop. The creaminess comes courtesy of… are you sitting down?… COCONUT MILK and Lemon Lime Curd. That’s right. There’s no cream or milk anywhere near this.  You all know I’m a mega fan of cream, but there is simply no substitute here. There’s something magical about what coconut milk does when its frozen. It doesn’t taste overly coconut-y, in fact, you’re hard pressed to get the coconut flavour at all. It’s very faint. But what it lends is an unctuousness that is unparalleled. The Lemon Lime Curd is obviously the main source for the citrus punch, but gets a little helping hand from an extra splash of lemon juice.

If you’d like to make these vegan (it isn’t already because of the eggs and butter in the Lemon Lime Curd) there is an easy quick fix. Simply use vegan lemon curd (or vegan lemon lime curd) in place of the traditional curd.

In case you’re on the fence about making these thinking, “How could something so easy to make possibly be as good as she says it is?” allow me to share an example. My husband likes food but he believes in the less-is-more approach to food compliments. He does not use superlatives unless a food has earned it. He took a bite of one of these popsicles and his eyes rolled back into his head. He said, “Did you make these up?” When I replied that I had, he said, “These are incredible! Seriously. You have to blog these. Now. Go blog them. People need to make these.”

He has suggested I put things up here on Foodie With Family before, but never with this much enthusiasm. Well, there is one exception, but it’s coming next week. That’s right. I hit it out of the park with The Evil Genius twice in one month. Stay tuned. And in the meantime, whip up a batch of these Creamy Lemon Lime Popsicles. It’ll take no time at all and you’ll look like a superhero.

One batch of the popsicle mix makes quite a few popsicles, but feel free to double or triple the recipe so that you have them on hand all the time. You’re only limited by the amount of moulds and freezer space you have and the number you can eat in a month. Believe me when I tell you you’ll be able to eat more than you think! If you wanted to make these in serious quantities for a kids’ party or similar event, use little disposable paper cups and short, fat wooden popsicle sticks.

In honour of the end of the school year and an undisclosed high school reunion year ending with a zero (ACK!), I’ll close this by saying, “Stay cool! Never change! Love ya like a sister!”

Many moons ago, when I was the mother of only a couple tiny kids, I had a very scandalous, very obese, very, very big dog named Hambone. Hambone was known for his lightning speed consumption of all food before him, whether it was intended for him or not. There was no food safe around Hambone.

Hambone ate his food. He ate his dog-compatriot’s food. He ate the cat’s food. He ate a pound of butter (still wrapped). He ate crayons, garbage, and -in short- anything that held still long enough for him to figure out how to get it down into his gullet. He was not discerning.

On a cold winter’s day, I laid the kids down for a nap and got to work on the snack I was supposed to bring to Bible study that evening. It was my turn and I decided to bring something indulgent, spectacular, unique… I settled on scones with lemon curd and clotted cream. The clotted cream I bought, the scones I made, and then came the lemon curd… I followed the time-honoured tradition of hand squeezing the citrus.

Lots and lots of citrus.

Then I set to whisking over a double boiler- whisking, whisking, whisking- until the egg yolks and sugar and lemon juice thickened. Then I dropped in the butter bit by bit and whisked even more until each little cube of butter was melted and incorporated. Now, I’ve been me a long time, and I’m consistent, so you may know what is coming next. I was making a quadruple batch. Of course! Why wouldn’t you make a double batch if you’re already going to so much trouble? This means I stood whisking for quite some time. In fact, I whisked my way through all of that precious nap time. My little fellows both woke or set to squawking at the same time… just about when that curd was finished.

Taking advantage of the cold weather, I set the bowl out to cool, covered with a screen, on a table on the porch. I did what moms do with freshly napped munchkins. I read, I snuggled, I tousled hair, I provided snacks. And then I heard a sound. A clatter. A sound that sounded like THE CLATTER OF A METAL BOWL SKITTERING ON A WOODEN PORCH. Empty. I had forgotten that the notorious Hambone was outside. He had eaten every last bit of my lemon curd from the bowl. It looked as clean as it had when I had taken it from the cupboard. I threw the bowl at the dog, locked the door, sat my sweet kidlets down in front of a Beatrix Potter movie and made another batch. A single one.

The dog was too full even to scratch at the door to be let in, and it’s a darned good thing because I was in no mood to let that beast into our warm abode. I got on the phone with my mom to complain and she said, “Oh no! I wonder if he’s in pain!” I responded, unkindly, that I hoped he was. Big time.

Time passed, Hambone had other memorable transgressions in the kitchen and I learned a few lessons.

1. Never leave food near a dog under any circumstances. They’re just not built to resist the temptation.
2. Lemon curd is far easier to make than I ever thought.

That second lesson is the real kicker. I learned that lemon curd does not need to be an exercise in self-flagellation. You need not whisk ’til your arms fall off. It is as easy as a burly blender or a microwave. Of the two methods, I prefer the blender method because you pop everything in, set it to high and walk away until steam billows forth from the top. If you don’t have a sturdily built blender, though, the microwave method is a vast improvement over the French galley-slave approach to lemon curd making.

Once I got the quick-curd methods under my belt, I started playing around a bit with ingredients. My favourite curd (which is really a very unappetizing word for what amounts to creamy citrus custard sauce) these days is a bright, light combination of lemon and lime, using the juice and zest of both citruses. Lemon and lime compliment each other beautifully… Where the lemon is all brightness, the lime has depth. The sugar softens up the sharpness of the citrus while the egg yolk makes the custard creamy. “Mouthwatering” is greatly overused when discussing foods, but there is simply no substitute for it here. Lemon Lime Curd truly makes your mouth water.

Even though you can quickly make curd just about any time using these quick methods, it’s nice to have it on hand ready to go at the smallest inkling of a craving. Lemon Lime curd can be stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to two weeks. If you’d like to make it last longer than that, simply freeze for up to a year. Not that it’ll ever last that long.

And heads-up. You’ll want to be back here next Tuesday when I show you how to use your Lemon Lime Curd to make THESE:

My husband turned eleventy one on Saturday.

Okay, not really… He turned forty six, but to hear the guy talk, he sounds like he thinks he’s butter scraped over too much bread.  Don’t feel too badly for him, though. He is the only person I’ve ever known in my life who -when asked how old he is- rounds up by a year or two. Somehow or another, he combines this funny aging complex with a playful personality. When we were dating, he once insisted, “I may be eight years older than you, but I’ll always, ALWAYS be WAY more immature than you are!” He meant it.

This is the dad who does back flips off of the swings when he goes to the playground with the kids (giving me a heart attack in the process.) This is the husband who panics over the thought of picking out a gift for me, yet still pulls off the coolest gifts ever*. This is the guy who lost track of time while photo-documenting the entire process of a snake eating a frog in the side yard, thus missing a family picnic. This is the man who loves cartoons (Looney Tunes is top of the heap), anime, Laurel and Hardy, playing guitar and drums and piano and bass and, and, and… This is my guy.

*Knowing how much I love dance, he scored two tickets to a limited showing of a touring traditional Chinese dance troupe.  It required a trip to the city (he would probably rather have dental work done), going out to dinner (he’d prefer hitting his thumb with a hammer), and dressing up (he would rather let the eight year old drive the family van than dress up.) He got some serious husband points for that present.

…And whether he’s turning eleventy one or forty six, I am going to try to make him a birthday feast that will make him borderline weepy with joy. This year was my year to earn points. I made a dinner comprised of his favourite dishes of all time and capped it off with the dessert that makes him clap his hands and laugh with anticipation. I’ll be spending this week sharing my Evil Genius’s birthday feast. We’re going to start not at the beginning, but rather at the end of the meal, because it is the most perfectly perfect fit ever for Make Ahead Mondays. We’re going Cream Puffy! Actually, we’re going down Profiterole Lane, but let’s start with the cream puffs.

Cream Puffs are another of those marvelous children of pâte à choux or choux paste. I’ve already told you a little of my love for choux paste, but I have much, much more to share with you, and THIS is one of my favourites. In this case, you nix the cheese and Dijon mustard and let the choux paste stand on its own. Oh man, let me tell you, you’re going to make like my husband here and clap and laugh when you see this coming.

Profiteroles are the happy result of splitting a largely hollow cream puff in half and filling it with sweet, creamy filling. HOLLER! In this case, we’re filling our profiteroles with ice cream and then drizzling warm hot fudge sauce over the whole thing. Then we drizzle the hot fudge sauce directly into our mouths. I mean, really. This is Grandma Val’s hot fudge sauce that I’m using. I’m no fool.

That all sounds awesome already, right? Would you like me to make it even more awesome? ‘Cause I can. And I will. It is more awesome because you can whip up that choux paste, pipe it out into the shapes you want and freeze them. Then you can have cream puffs and profiteroles any old time you want. You don’t have to thaw the dough or anything prior to baking. You just pop them on a lined pan and bake. The only concession you have to make for baking them from frozen is that you add five minutes to the cooking time. That’s do-able, right?

That’s TOTALLY do-able. Make yourself some cream puffs. Make someone happy. Then make some  profiteroles and make someone ecstatic.

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Cream Puffs and Profiteroles | Make Ahead Mondays

Did you know you can freeze cream puff dough (choux paste) and bake cream puffs from the frozen dough any time you want? It's true. Bake them up and fill those crispy, brown, mostly-hollow poufs with your favourite ice cream then drizzle with warmed hot fudge sauce as the ultimate reward for having a well-stocked freezer. Happiness is a warm cream puff with cold ice cream!

Ingredients

For the Cream Puffs:
• 1 stick (4 ounces by weight) butter
• 1 cup (8 ounces by weight) water
• 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 1/4 cups (5 1/4 ounces by weight) all purpose flour
• 4 large eggs (preferably at room temperature)
For the Profiteroles:
• Ice cream
• Hot Fudge Sauce

Instructions

To Make the Cream Puffs:

Preheat the oven to 425°F. Line a large baking sheet (or two) with silpats or parchment paper.

Bring the water, butter and salt to a rapid boil in a heavy-bottomed, 2 quart capacity saucepan over high heat. Remove the pan from the burner and add all the flour at once. Stir strongly until the flour is completely wet. Return the pan to medium high heat and continue stirring strongly until a light film forms over the bottom of the pan and the dough is smooth and soft and forms a ball when stirred. Remove the pan from the heat. Transfer the dough to the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle (or to a large, heat-proof mixing bowl if a stand mixer is unavailable.) Let the dough rest for 10 minutes.

After 10 minutes, add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. After the final egg is added, beat on high for at least 2 minutes, but not more than 4. (If beating by hand, you can count this as a large part of your daily workout. Beat it into submission!)

You must pipe or scoop out your cream puff dough immediately, but there are two options for after you portion them out. Either way, begin by using a pastry bag with a large plain tip or spoons to portion the dough into 16 equally sized rounds on the prepared pan(s). I use a pastry bag to pipe circles, piping in smaller toward the top. Traditionally, you tap down the little peaks that form, but my kids like to bite those off, so I leave them. Alternatively, you could use two large tablespoons portion it out, using one spoon to scrape the dough from the other over the pan.

At this point you can put the pan directly into the freezer, transferring the cream puffs to a resealable zipper top bag or freezer safe container with a tight fitting lid for up to 3 months.

~or~

To Bake the Cream Puffs:

(If preparing from frozen, simply add 5 minutes to the baking time at the end.) Place pan in the oven, bake for 15 minutes. Do not open that door! After 15 minutes, lower the heat to 375°F and cook for an additional 15 minutes. When the time is up, turn off the oven and stick the handle of a wooden spoon in between the body of the stove and the door to hold it open just a little and let the cream puffs cool in the oven like that for 30 minutes. After 30 minutes, remove the pan from the oven. You can serve them immediately or cool to room temperature.

To Make Profiteroles:

Break open a cream puff at the midline (much like a muffin). Place the bottom on a plate, put a good sized scoop of ice cream on the base, add the top part of the cream puff and drizzle with warmed hot fudge sauce.

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http://www.foodiewithfamily.com/2012/04/30/cream-puffs-and-profiteroles-make-ahead-mondays/

Recipe printed from Foodie With Family | Rebecca Lindamood http://www.foodiewithfamily.com

Two days ago, I walked into a doctor’s office and paid them to shoot lasers into my eyes. I felt very Jetsons… very Star Trek… very Galaxy Quest. I half expected Dr. Crusher to walk into the room to scan me. My sole disappointment was the utter lack of sound effects accompanying the laser eye procedure. I would’ve paid another few bucks for a good solid “PEWPEWPEW”. One hour later, I walked out of the office in a very chic (ahem) pair of goggles and 20/20 vision for the first time in my entire life.

Woah.

Let me just say that again.

Woah.

Science is cool. Unlike me in my Weird Al t-shirt and goggles. I did my very best Bono impersonation. I think that judging by the sniggers-not-swoons reception that my attempts received, I should leave the rock-starring to Paul David Hewson and Weird Al (who DOES rock, thankyouverymuch) and confine my rocking to the kitchen. And I do rock the kitchen, goggles or no goggles.

Let me tell you, this recipe doesn’t just rock, it rocks. the. Casbah. Popovers are simplicity itself: a simple batter thrown together in the blender, poured into a greased pan, then baked at a high temperature until puffy. You already win when you make popovers, but these are special. These are (wait for it…) HEALTHY! Holy moly. It’s true. These are whole wheat popovers. True, they puff ever so slightly less than their all-purpose counterparts, but the difference is negligible really and what you lose in loft (I promise, it’s not much!) you more than make up for in flavour and health. What in the world does a popover have to do with dessert you ask? Oh boy. You are in for a treat. Whisk together some velvety thick Greek yogurt with a little mild honey, then some lemon zest and lemon juice. That’s easy, right? Pop *open* the pop *overs* and dollop the slightly sweet Greek yogurt creme. Then you gild the lily by spooning some sweet, fragrant strawberries folded into just a little strawberry jam.

I need a moment just luxuriate in that thought. (And to grab a spoon.)

Oh forget the spoon. They’re so last century, and I am clearly space age now. Just take a bite off of one of these…

…And pile in the goodies.

I’m all for progress, even if it means strawberry juice running down my arm. Maybe even especially if it means that. Pardon me, I’m off to go look at things…

I have the privilege of being able to make the cake for the upcoming wedding of my brother and his wonderful fiancée this summer. Besides being excited to be such a big part of their day, I’m thrilled that I’ll be occupied in making sure the cake is just-so and therefore will hopefully not be sitting at the table sobbing from joy over the nuptials and having a massive aging crisis over the fact that my baby brother is now wed.

Ahem.

I have to say that I am a seriously fierce big sister. I’m hyper protective of my little brother and more than just a little bossy. (I’m looking more charming by the moment, aren’t I?) I remember one time Luke had to talk me and another of our sisters out of beating up a kid who had punched him. In retrospect, it’s probably for the best. I had never thrown a punch in my life and didn’t have a clue how to do so. I probably would’ve ended up getting creamed. Nothing screams “pick on me!” like having your big sisters fight your battles and then lose them for you.

I gave the secret stink-eye to girls he dated over the years but then came Elvi. The second I met her I knew. I knew that my brother was going to marry her. And if he didn’t? Well, we were going to adopt her as a sister and he’d be on probation. Luckily, my baby brother is a smart guy.

Aside from being a talented artist (see my header above for an example! Shout out to Elvi!), she’s just plain fun to be around. She has an infectious laugh and a fresh perspective on almost anything. For example, in our food obsessed family, my first question was, “What flavour cake do you want?” She looked at me funny and said, “You know. I hate to admit this, but I don’t really care how it tastes. I just want it to look a certain way.”

While I picked up my lower jaw from the floor and fixed it back in place, I considered what she had said. Well, obviously! She is an artist. The real deal. With studio space and everything. She’s visual! Heeeeyyyy… Does this mean I get to decide the cake flavour?

“Hey, Elvi, does this mean I get to decide the cake flavour?”

She said yes. SHE SAID YES. That was almost as good as her saying yes to my brother. I talked snickerdoodle cakes, carrot cakes and all sorts in between. She didn’t care as long as it had the specified form! Jack. Pot.

And then it hit me. Blueberries and lemons. Nothing screamed my brother more than blueberries and lemons. Blueberries because I’m fairly sure my brother starts panting with anticipation about a week before blueberry season. There is no safe blueberry around him.  Lemons because, well… There’s more than one reason, but here’s a warning. The story I’m about to share is not appetizing.

When we were little we had a station wagon. The drive to the grocery store was pretty lengthy (as in more than a half hour) and over winding country roads full of C.O.D. curves*. Luke -about four or five years old at the time- had a squirrely travelling stomach in the best circumstances and was just about exhausted from a day of “being in town” and out of his routine. He was sitting in the ‘way back’ of the wagon (the rear facing rumble seat) and called to mom that he was hungry. She told him to dig into the bags and eat one of the little single serving containers of lemon yogurt (here comes that lemon!) Luke ate it and promptly threw up over the back of the car, his sisters and everything else he could look at while his head made like a rotating sprinkler.

*Come Over Dear curves. In other words, you’re taking a hairpin turn that requires you to lean against your nearest neighbor in the car.

So lemon and Luke. What can I say? It’s an association.

But there’s more. Lemons equal sunshine. My sunshine haired baby brother who always looked like he had a halo around his head because of his white blonde hair. And Elvi is sunshine. She brings light and joy to the room just like the sun does. I cannot think of a better cake to represent the two of them.

This is my first experiment along the road of providing the perfect wedding cake for two of my very favourite people and I do believe we already have a winner. The tender, fine lemon cupcakes are dotted with juicy, sweet and tart blueberries and topped with a cloud of whipped cream and a pinch of fresh lemon zest. These bright, sunshiney cupcakes are a little burst of spring and freshness.

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Blueberry Lemon Cupcakes

Yield: 24-28 cupcakes

Serving Size: 1 cupcake

These bright, sunshiney, tender lemon cupcakes are dotted with juicy, sweet and tart blueberries and topped with a cloud of whipped cream and a pinch of fresh lemon zest for a burst of spring and freshness!

Inspired by and adapted from both Sweetapolita and Julievr at Babble Blogs

Ingredients

• 1 cup butter, at room temperature
• 2 cups sugar
• 4 eggs
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 1/2 teaspoon pure lemon extract
• 3 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• grated zest and juice of a lemon
• 1 cup milk, divided
• 2 cups of fresh blueberries (or frozen blueberries, thawed and drained), tossed with 3 tablespoons of flour
To Serve:
• 2 cups whipping cream
• 1 tablespoon confectioner's sugar
• additional lemon zest

Instructions

Preheat the oven to 375°F.

Line 24 muffin tins with muffin papers (you may have enough batter to make a few extra cupcakes, so if you have more tins and papers, keep them handy.)

In a small mixing bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder and salt and set aside.

In a stand mixer or in a bowl with a hand mixer or sturdy spoon, cream together the softened butter, sugar and lemon zest on high speed or until light and fluffy and even. Scrape down the bowl and add the eggs -one at a time- beating well after each addition. Beat in the vanilla and lemon extract.

Add about 1/3 of the flour mixture, mix in well, add about 1/3 each of the milk and lemon juice and mix well. Repeat until they are used up, ending with the milk and lemon juice.

Shake any excess flour from the blueberries and gently fold them into the cake batter. Fill the prepared muffin tins 2/3 full of batter. Tap the pan gently on the counter two or three times to settle the batter. Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until the cupcakes spring back when gently pressed in the center and a toothpick or knife inserted into the center of the cupcake comes out without gooey batter on it.

Turn out of the pans onto a cooling rack and let cool completely.

Store the cupcakes, unadorned, at room temperature in a tightly covered container for 3-4 days.

Just Before Serving:

In a stand mixer (or with a hand mixer or whisk) on high speed, whip the whipping cream and confectioner's sugar until it holds a peak when the beater is removed from it. Pipe or dollop the whipped cream onto the cupcakes and top with a pinch of fresh lemon zest.

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http://www.foodiewithfamily.com/2012/03/28/blueberry-lemon-cupcakes/

Recipe printed from Foodie With Family | Rebecca Lindamood http://www.foodiewithfamily.com