Gluten-Free Apple Cake Muffins

A tender and light apple cake muffin. Gluten and dairy free.

Apple Cake Inspired

Before we get to muffins, I have a game for you. Created spontaneously one night, after some dizzying Facebook scrolling (when did Facebook become one endless stream of bumper stickers?). Pardon my yawning.

I think I'll call this amusement... The Dating Game. Here's how it hatched over crudities and hummus.

"I wish I knew you in high school," I tell my husband. This is not news to him, by the way. It's a popular topic lately, now that I am in my second adolescence, eighteen years past mid-life.

I sketch for him a vivid narrative of study hall humiliations and spikes of burning shame, waving a carrot stick in his direction, just for emphasis. I search for words to depict how it feels when a snickering quarterback punches your clutch of school books with his fists, sending you to your knees in a crowded hallway to rescue the sprawl of English homework, algebra and biology books that emit the faint smell of ink and gum.

He sighs audibly. He hates to hear these stories.

"I would have played you my Tommy album," I say. "I would have cooked you brown rice and tamari. We would have talked about books. Siddhartha. On the Road. Women in Love."

He smiles and adds, "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas."

We toast Hunter Thompson with our mineral water.

"You wouldn't have liked me in high school," he says.

This isn't the first time I have heard this. It always puzzles me. Though he tells me this with less conviction now that he's been married to me for seventeen and a half years. I picture him in Levi's and an un-tucked flannel shirt. Beefy, brainy, sarcastic.

"I was angry," he mentions.

"Me too," I say, "but on the inside. A classic geek. They called me Four-Eyes."

"That's original," he says, popping an olive.

"And Sandwich," I add.

He raises an eyebrow. "Sandwich?"

"Yeah," I sigh. "Because of my hair. Straight. Thin. Parted down the middle. Like this." I place the edges of my palms on either side of my face. "Sandwich."

"Bullies," he says, and shakes his head in disgust.

Suddenly I feel inspired.

"Let's date in high school! Let's watch the movies we loved. Share music. Talk about books."

He laughs but I can tell he is visualizing it.

"For our first date," I tell him, "let's see Easy Rider. It rocked my fifteen-year-old world. Peter Fonda. Captain America. It launched me into orbit."

I sit back, sip mineral water, and glance at him sideways. I conjure my best rendition of my fifteen-year-old self.

"Hey. Wanna see Easy Rider?" I ask.

"It's rated R," he tells me. "We'll have to sneak you in. Or get you a fake ID."


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My Best Gluten-Free Apple Crisp

The best gluten-free apple crisp I've made. In this lifetime anyway.

I've been pondering identity lately. As in, am I the I writing this as Gluten-Free Goddess--- or am I a word-free, less defined kind of I that isn't actually I at all, but merely a spark in the collective energy source that is the great Mystery? Or Universe. Or Divine. Or whatever conceptual nomenclature you prefer.

Am I my thinking mind- or am I more of an essence, what we call soul, a truth beyond the assumed collection of thought patterns, personality traits, and personal history framed by a set of beliefs and separation known as the ego?

I do know I am not my disease.

One of the reasons I chose not to use the word celiac in my blog title was for just this very reason. I do not define myself as a celiac. In an identity sense. I do not identify with my this disease. That would be identifying with my gastro-functional limitations.

Hello, my name is Karina. And I have screwed up villi.

But I am not my screwed up villi. Just as I am not my post-cataract lens implants. Or my mended broken hip. Or the silvery streaked hair that bristles like a squirrel on this prone-to-migraines head. I am also not this post-menopausal body that has brilliantly succumbed to a gravitational force superior than lunges and squats (in the end gravity wins, I am sorry to tell you).

The older I get, I find less and less comfort in defining myself at all- never mind defining myself by my various bodily quirks (not to mention, my southerly migrating butt). I derive no solace in my mental quirks either. My beliefs, or assumptions, or my random monkey thoughts. Even my skills are a poor capture of who I really am. I do not identify with how many paintings I've painted or sold, or how many likes I receive on Instagram. I do not crave recognition as a mirror. The alleged prize of fame and fortune remains less than compelling, my least urgent motivator.

I instead wander the hours of my days seeking answers that lead to more questions. Not answers that close the book. As in, subscribing to a system that has it all "figured out".

As Anne Lamott likes to say, certainty is the opposite of faith.

Certainty is finite.

The end of growth. It clips the wings of possibility- the bigger truth that exists beyond my small understanding. Closing the book on the question of Who am I, exactly? would be foolish. The Big Mystery is far greater and more full of awesome than I can ever attempt to imagine. And whatever micro-teeny part I play in this infinite universal system called Life, I intuitively know one aspect of it, thanks to five-plus decades of living. Whatever It is, It is fluid. Everything changes. Including time. The past, present and future. The Universe (it's expanding, you know, faster than they first calculated). My experiential perception of myself (also expanding). The I that does not exist, because the I is only ego. The nattering, unreliable voice in my head.

So if this I does not exist--- who is craving this apple crisp?

Perhaps the only sensible response is this.

Be one with the apple crisp.

Now that I can do.






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Applesauce Crumb Cake with Cinnamon

Cake lovers unite. Skip the pie. An apple pie spiced cake!

Coffee Cake to the Rescue

Knee deep in book boxes, I decided to bake a cake. Because trying to wrestle gluten-free pie dough for an apple pie just seemed too fussy. Too complicated. Though in all honesty, that isn't the whole, unvarnished truth. The whole, unvarnished truth is, Yours Truly is more of a cake person than a pie person (downright blasphemy this time of year, I realize, as Thanksgiving looms large). But yeah. It's true. Pies have their charm. I've been known to inhale a slice or two of apple pie in my day. But here's the thing.

And I'm going to be blunt.

Gluten-free pastry crust is simply not as flaky and tender and melt-in-your-mouth wonderful as wheat pastry crust. There. I said it. Fighting words, to some. And if you are among those true believers feel free to disagree. And go eat your gluten-free pie. I bless you with a thousand sprinkles of pie fairy dust. With love. And kisses.

And pink ponies.

Respectfully.

Gluten, you see, is more than a pesky protein with a bad rep. Gluten is what makes pastry dough soft, flaky and tender. Gluten is what inspired bakers to bake all those years ago, firing up their hand-hewn brick-lined ovens. Gluten was their muse. Their seductive mistress. Gluten took them beyond three ingredient pancakes and palm-tossed flatbreads. Gluten fed their imagination. Inspired tarts, baklava, cupcakes. Napoleons.

And yes.

Apple pie.

Because gluten is a magical ingredient (despite its bad press these days).

We have to admit it. She's not an easy paramour to replace.

Perhaps some day soon I'll be tempted to experiment with a gluten-free pastry dough. I'll be lured into believing I can recreate such delicate, fragile beauty. But not today. If I do crave pie I'll bake this no apology necessary Apple Crisp and serve it warm with a snowy scoop of vegan vanilla ice cream. Or this vegan Pumpkin Pie with Coconut-Pecan Crust.

And for breakfast, I'll eat cake.

Applesauce cake.

Right now, I can live with that.

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Gluten-Free Apple Cake with Cranberries

A gluten-free cranberry apple cake- with a sweet-tart kick.

No philosophy today. Instead, a cake. A beautiful gluten-free cake to bake for the holidays- or any day you feel like celebrating. So dust off your cake pan, Babycakes.

This is a moist and tender apple cake laced with a hint of cinnamon and studded with fresh tart berries. After seven eight nine years of baking various gluten-free incarnations of my tried and true Jewish apple cake recipe, this could be our favorite. Maybe it's the sweet-tart combo. The subtlety of flavors. In a food culture obsessed with kicking up recipes with more for the sake of more (white chocolate peanut butter bacon swirled maple mouse drizzled in dulche de leche coconut marshmallow and dusted with sugared lime zest and shaved dark chocolate, anyone?) the clean and classic flavor contrast of apples and cranberries is somehow new again. Even, refreshing.

I don't need dessert to taste like candy. I like my cake to taste like cake.

How about you?

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Gluten-Free Coconut Flour Apple Cake Recipe

A lovely gluten-free apple cake with coconut flour.

The weather here has hula-hooped back into summer. I kid you not. It is ninety-seven degrees here in Little Russia, my West Hollywood neighborhood. As in 97. That's three shy of one hundred, Bubbe. In September. And what am I doing? Baking a cake. Heating up the kitchen. It figures.

As soon as I buy apples and start daydreaming about my favorite fall confections, imagining clear, cool evenings and Eva Cassidy's haunting rendition of Autumn Leaves, September turns sultry and sends me back into the closet, peeling off my straight legged jeans and Converse All Stars faster than Gordon Ramsay can mock sashimi.

So I may as well share my latest gluten-free cake recipe with you. I mean, I suffered extreme heat for it. I hot flashed till I was squishy for it. I panted and sweat until I resembled an over-ripe heirloom tomato. You know, dimpled and dented. Flabby. A little misshapen. And well. Squishy. Not a pretty sight.

Not that I'm trying to induce guilt or anything.

Not me.

So go ahead. Enjoy this new apple cake recipe. Share a slice or two amongst yourselves. Don't worry about me here in hot little WeHo. Really. Go. Bake. Discuss. Have some coffee.

And coffee tawk.

xox


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Julia's Spiced "is there any more?" Apple Pie

We were heading over to the in-law's for a games night last night, so I decided I should bring some desserty-type thing for a treat (ok, so it's not the first time, I'm sure it won't be the last). But with the early onset of les printemps here in Edmonton, I am craving fruit - and lots of it. Sure, none of it is local at this time of year - (yes I would completely fail at being a locavore, but

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Gluten-Free Apple & Pear Crisp

Easier than pie, a crisp makes a lovely gluten-free dessert.

Sweet, crisp apples and tender pears are sprinkled with a cinnamon and brown sugar crumble and baked to melt-in-your mouth perfection. This simple gluten-free dessert- worthy of excavation from the Gluten-Free Goddess® archives- evokes old fashioned autumnal comfort at its coziest.

Using a gluten-free pancake and baking mix- such as Pamela's Baking and Pancake Mix- makes this treat easy as pie easier than pie to toss together. Celebrate fall and winter with this classic homey dessert.

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Apple-Pear Multigrain Muffins

Whole grain gluten-free muffins with fall fruit.

Today I have new muffin recipe for your gluten-free repertoire- with apples and pears, and protein rich quinoa flakes. The texture is akin to an old fashioned oat muffin. It is also vegan (I made these without eggs) and dairy-free. I used a combo of several gluten-free whole grain flours because I like my flour mix to have a nutty, protein rich blend.

Tender, grainy gluten-free apple-pear muffins.

Apple-Pear Multigrain Muffins Recipe

I had a craving for an apple oats muffin- so I used quinoa flakes in this recipe. Quinoa flakes give muffins a bit of oatmeal-like texture and heft (as in my Quinoa Pecan Muffins).

Ingredients:

1/4 cup sorghum flour
1/4 cup GF millet flour or certified gluten-free oat flour
1/4 cup GF buckwheat flour
1/4 cup certified gluten-free cornmeal
1/4 cup quinoa flakes
1/2 cup tapioca starch or potato starch
1 tablespoon sweet rice flour or arrowroot starch
1 teaspoon xanthan gum
1 teaspoon sea salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon cinnamon or gluten-free Apple Pie Spice blend
1/4 teaspoon allspice or cardamom
1/2 cup organic light brown sugar
1/2 cup organic cane sugar
2 organic free range eggs, beaten, or egg replacer for two eggs (I used Ener-G Egg Replacer)
1/4 cup light olive oil or melted coconut oil
1 medium banana, mashed well (about 1/2 cup)
1/4 teaspoon light rice vinegar
2 teaspoons bourbon vanilla
1/3 cup apple juice
1 cup peeled diced apple
1 cup peeled diced pear

Instructions: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line a twelve cup muffin tin. In a clean separate bowl, whisk together the flours, cornmeal, quinoa flakes, starches and dry ingredients. Make a well in the center and add in eggs, oil, mashed banana, vinegar, vanilla and apple juice. Beat to combine and continue beating for a minute or two until the batter is smooth. Add in the apple and pear pieces and stir by hand to combine. Use an ice cream scoop or spoon to scoop and plop the batter into the muffin cups. The batter will reach the top of the cups- that's okay. Sprinkle with organic cane or turbinado sugar, if desired. Bake in the center of a preheated oven for about 20 to 25 minutes until the muffins are firm. Cool on a wire rack for five minutes, then turn out the muffins from the pan to keep them from getting soggy. Continue to cool on a wire rack. Wrap and bag for freezing- they reheat beautifully in the microwave (zap them only briefly). Makes one dozen delicious gluten-free muffins. 

Recipe Source: glutenfreegoddess.blogspot.com

All images & content are copyright protected, all rights reserved. Please do not use our images or content without prior permission. Thank you. 

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Ruby Applesauce with Cranberries

Cranberry applesauce- deliciously tart.

Apple season is upon us. Bring on the apple recipes. First up- a favorite New England pairing- apples and cranberries simmered to create a luscious slightly tart sauce, sweetened with organic raw agave. Make it as sweet or as tart as you prefer. This beautiful ruby red applesauce is a lovely side dish for so many fall recipes- from Turkey and Sweet Potato Enchiladas to classic Sweet Potato Latkes.

Ruby Applesauce with Cranberries Recipe- Vegan + Gluten-Free

Simmering the fruit in juice gives a big flavor boost. I used unsweetened cranberry juice to do this, but if you prefer a sweeter applesauce, try using cranberry-apple juice.

Ingredients:

2 rounded cups peeled chopped apples- preferably mixed varieties for best flavor
1 cup fresh or thawed frozen cranberries
1/2 cup cranberry juice or cranberry-apple juice, more as needed
1 cinnamon stick
Raw organic agave nectar or honey, to taste (I used 2 tablespoons, as I wanted it tart)

Instructions:

Combine the chopped apples and cranberries in a medium sauce pan and pour in enough cranberry or apple-cranberry juice to barely cover the fruit. Add a whole cinnamon stick. Cover and bring to a simmer.

Cook until the fruit is very soft. Remove the cinnamon stick. Using a potato masher, mash the fruit until you get a sauce texture you like. I prefer mine with a little bit of texture. If you like your applesauce  smoother process it in a food processor or Vita-Mix.

Taste and sweeten the sauce with agave or honey. Stir and allow it to cool a bit.

Spoon into a storage container, cover and chill until serving.

Makes about a pint of sauce.

Recipe Source: glutenfreegoddess.blogspot.com

All images & content are copyright protected, all rights reserved. Please do not use our images or content without prior permission. Thank you. 

Serve as a side dish with these compatible recipes:

Sweet Potato Latkes
Turkey + Sweet Potato Enchiladas
Sweet Potato and Black Bean Enchiladas
Sweet Potato Shepherd's Pie with Black Angus Beef

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Gluten-Free Apple Cinnamon Muffins

Cinnamon apple goodness- gluten-free.

A classic fall favorite- the pairing of apples and cinnamon. Stir them together in a muffin batter and you have a sweet and cozy breakfast treat that is not only heart warming and soul satisfying but super easy to wrap and freeze. That is, if you don't eat every single morsel first. These little gems would be a fabulous side nosh for Thanksgiving brunch- or a casual supper of Curried Butternut Soup.

It's a gray flannel sky kind of day here in the high desert. Chilly and damp. Steve is watching The Great Escape as I nibble on a warm apple muffin. It's been a historic week. I am still re-viewing on-line videos of our President-Elect with gratitude and awe, thankful that hope, grace and smarts prevailed despite the ugly drumbeat of fear, fueled by prejudice and the age old tactic of scapegoating and button-pushing, appealing, of course, to the lower instincts of our reptilian past. The old and rusty paradigm is giving birth to the new on a collective level. And I feel it in my bones and in the air that I breathe.

I am grateful. Hopeful. And eager to greet change.

It's all good.


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Gluten-Free Latkes and Cinnamon Applesauce

A stack of crispy, lacy latkes

Have you made latkes lately? Latkes are fried potato pancakes made with fresh grated potatoes. Though latkes come in all shapes and sizes (via personal preference) I make my latkes thin and lacy, fried to a crispy golden brown. Oy, these are good! Maybe Mel Gibson wouldn't be such a nudnik, if he tasted these. Although if he did, he'd probably ask for ketchup.

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Acorn Squash with Green Chiles and Equal Love

My kinda squash. Kicked up with green chiles.

I deeply (if not profoundly) doubt the ever expanding food blog galaxy needs yet another squash recipe, but.

I can't help myself.

Right before the Charlie Brown style tile floor smack down (aka hip incident), I threw together a flavor combo I am crazy about. Nutty for. Head over heals smack your lips and toss aside your chaste maple syrup Pilgrim traditions for. That's right. I got radical.

I added chopped roasted New Mexican green chiles to my roasted acorn squash. And a sexy pinch of cumin. A golden drizzle of fruity olive oil. Impudent changes to the way we do things around here that would have sent a certain lanky, curly-haired ex-boyfriend of mine scurrying for his cream of mushroom soup casserole. In other words, Gentle Reader, home to Mommy.

Note to Goddesses-in-Training:

Darlings. If your boyfriend thinks your cooking is, let's say the word used is, Weird! Or even, Goddess forbid, Too spicy!

Find another boyfriend. Or girlfriend. That's right. I'm taking all shades of rainbow love. Whatever makes your heart race and your soul bloom.

Because love is too large for labels. Too fierce and sweet and fragile for small mindedness. And let's face it. True love is too heartbreakingly scarce in this world to twist your authentic self into a one-size-fits-all paper thin cut-out of who you should be, whom you should love, whom you should worship.

I'm here to tell you two things- from intimate, personal life experience- my recent brush with mortality has stoked my desire to speak freely.

Karina's Rules To Live By

1. Life is too damn short so lighten up.

2. Love is the best thing there is. And that means all love, Babycakes.

Not just one particular legal sanctioned religion supported super-hetero kind of love. I mean all the rainbow love shades in between from red to blue, from indigo to pink and even purple. So if you're feeling snagged in a cartoon cut-out of your life for your family's sake, or your church's sake, or your Aunt Vilma's sake, listen up, Doll.

Scrape off the Pilgrim tradition and the pressure to conform and the urge to please, fit in and be nice. Nice is overrated. And tradition is really overrated. As is the enduring myth that perfection is attainable. So shake things up. Be bold.

Love whom you love.

{As H.L. Mencken quipped, Puritanism was the haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.}

And for those of you genetically blessed with enjoying your legally sanctioned mainstream love, open your tender hearts and vote. Vote for equal freedom and equal rights and equal marriage opportunity for all.

Be generous of spirit.

Stretch your spiritual muscle.

Expand your compassion.

Because, judging? Not attractive. Leave the wrath to someone else.

Hate is not sexy.

Smugness? Top turn-off.

Sugar, the bottom line is this. Let your neighbor live in peace (not to mention your cousin or brother or sister still stuck in some dusty closet with all your other family detritus that no one likes to talk about). Get over it.

It's time.

And put spicy chiles in your holiday squash if you feel like it. No matter what Miss Goodier Than Thou thinks.

Let your soul fly.

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Hot Buckwheat Cereal with Cinnamon Apples

Hot buckwheat cereal- gluten-free comfort. With apples.

Nothing like a simple bowl of hot buckwheat cereal with cinnamon spiced apples to set you straight. Because winging it can get you into trouble. I know this. But I couldn't help myself. You see, I was just so (excruciatingly!) tired of pre-planning where to eat and schlepping bags of stale corn thins and green bananas that never get ripe and worrying myself into a veritable tizzy over whether or not some waiter-slash-actor might actually offer me an empathetic ear when I ask if the grilled tuna salad has a dairy-based dressing.

Not to mention feeling like a stodgy old stick-in-the-mud with a neon sign on my forehead that screams High Maintenance- when I'm not. Really. (Or maybe I'm in denial and actually one of those women who only thinks she's low maintenance, but she's really, you know, a major pain in the tuchas?)

So I traveled light and didn't obsess.

I drank a lot of bottled water. (The up side- zero calories, right?)

When those with me talked script notes and casting ideas over cappuccino and caramel lattes I bravely ordered espresso- or a dairy-free Americano- and tuned out the frothy sound of the foaming barista hard at work. I breathed. I dealt.

I sat with an empty plate as laid-back cool and hip people chowed down first courses of sushi and spicy coconut soup and grilled shrimp with garlic (because the waitress shrugged when I asked about gluten). In-N-Out burger saved my life more than twice with fabulous gluten-free fries- fries (thank goddess there are dedicated GF fryers in this world).

One marvelous and exceptional meal was at I Cugini in Santa Monica where a handsome, sweet waiter didn't blink an eye when I told him I needed to eat gluten-free, and declared, Let's build you something! We'll start with greens- can you do fresh tomatoes, leeks? Topped with fresh grilled salmon? Olive oil and balsamic? And NO GLUTEN or DAIRY he wrote on the order. All this with a smile, mind you. And a conspiratorial wink.

My mother, he whispered.

Celiac? I asked. A nod.

The lunch was gorgeous. I scraped my plate clean while Steve talked with his director.

One thing I know for sure. Gluten-free in Los Angeles is doable, if not easy. Gluten and dairy free... a tad trickier. They love their butter and yogurt here. Thank heavens for grapes, bananas and potato chips.

Next time we'll rent a place with a kitchen- like we did in February. After all, a goddess cannot live on lettuce and French fries for a week.


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