In memory of Aunt Rheba

About a month ago, my Great Aunt Rheba passed away. She'd been a slow decay of Alzheimer's disease for years. But even with her Alzheimer's, Aunt Rheba was a fancy lady. She had an eye for all things crafty and arty. Her house was filled with stained glass window ornaments. She and Uncle Phil for years owned a small, yippy chihuahua named Princess. And they'd tote Princess along on all the RV trips they took with my grandparents every year.

After her funeral, we wished Aunt Rheba well in our family's section of the cemetery. Then, we relatives met at Uncle Phil's house for fried chicken, potato salad, caffeine-free cokes, and wine (you've got to love middle-aged relatives.) That was the best part for me that day; I got to see first-removed cousins and second cousins and aunts and uncles, to chill with my awesome grandparents, and to show off my wonderful husband, Raymond. And of course, we all shared our love for Aunt Rheba.

The whole day brought another afternoon to my mind: Aunt Rheba's 85th birthday several Octobers ago.

At the crack of nine that morning, sporting a mess of hair and yesterday's T-shirt, I browsed Martha Stewart's website for craft ideas. I love browsing Martha Stewart's website. It holds hundreds of do-it-yourself projects for creative types.

So I'm surfing around on the site...clicky, clicky, clicky...reading how to make easy felt hats or strawberry pincushions, pillows out of handkerchiefs or candles of halved lemons, when I remember:

Aunt Rheba's 85th birthday party was that afternoon. I decided to make her present. It should be baked good, perhaps, because she was turning eighty-freaking-five and had all the useless nick-knacks she'd ever need. My kitchen cupboards could normally produce practical from-scratch biscuits or sugar cookies, but nothing special or gifty. To remedy this, I purchased blueberries and a pretty tin at the Goodwill while out-and-about. Then, I flipped my trusty College Hill Coffee Cookbook open to Blenda's fabulous blueberry streussel-top muffins.

Now, I've made these gigantic, buttery, crumbly blueberry muffins at least two dozen times. While working at College Hill Coffee, a cafe & lunchette, in college, I learned how to make and bake many delectable items... cheesecakes, scones, cookies, etc. My friend and co-worker, Ben, would crown his batches of blueberry muffins with so much sugary-buttery topping that sometimes they would seal themselves right into the tin! A customer favorite, a Kate favorite, these muffins would surely win over Aunt Rheba. I could see her eating them her cheery kitchen over that checked table cloth.

In my teensy downtown apartment kitchen, I whipped the butter, sugar, eggs together, lightly mix in the dry ingredients, folded in blueberries. Then, I spooned everything into my muffin tin. Everything looked and smelled fantastic.

But then, I didn't add enough flour (or too much sugar) to the streussel topping that is sprinkled on top. Yes, I should have stopped there, fixed the topping, and gone on. Instead, I let the poor, doomed muffins bake, knowing deep inside that when I placed them on the oven rack, I sent them to their encrusted grave.

While they cooked, the over-abundance of sugar melted together, down the sides of the muffins and caramelized. The caramelized sugar then turned a dark, crunchy brown. The muffins that weren't irretrievably stuck to the pan didn't come out in one piece. We had to leave for the party ten minutes later.

The whole drive to Aunt Rheba's house, I scolded myself. I was a few tablespoons of flour away from baked blueberry goodness! Raymond tried to console me. "What did I expect?" he says. "You don't cook for a living."

Yet, I still magically believed those muffins would come out Martha Stewart Perfect. All of my great aunts and my grandmother are excellent bakers. They make pies with gorgeous crusts on the first try, no mistakes. (My grandmother can produce a golden, custard Jeff Davis pie while checking her Myspace or crocheting. No kidding.)

Yet, Raymond reminded me in his gentle way that Grandma and the aunts have roughly 50 more years of experience in baking than I do. They've ruined their share of muffins and cookies. I also consoled myself with the idea that Martha Stewart has also burned her share of cookies, though she'd never admit it.

Forget Martha and her perfect baking. You can't win them all. It turns out, Aunt Rheba was happy enough to see us on her birthday. Plus, Raymond and I had crunchy muffin bits for breakfast (they're good with cold milk.)

CHC Blueberry Muffins (makes one dozen, or six very fat SuperMuffins)

(muffins)

1/2 cup butter
3/4 cup sugar
1 egg
2 cup flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 cup milk
2 cup blueberries

(topping)

1/4 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup sugar
1/3 cup flour
1/2 tsp. cinnamon

Oil muffin tins. In a large bowl, cream together butter and sugar. Add the egg, and beat the whole mixture for what seems like forever.

In a separate bowl, combine flour, baking powder, and salt. Add the dry mix to the creamed mixture alternatively with the milk. Fold in blueberries (if you're using frozen ones, be extra super careful not to over-stir, as the berried will make the muffins a very smudgy blue.) Fill muffin tins about two-thirds full.

In another bowl, combine the topping ingredients until they make a crumbly mixture. Sprinkle the streussel over the muffin batter. Then, bake muffins in a 400 degree oven for 20-25 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. Remove muffins from oven and let sit for a minute before running a sharp knife around the edges of the muffin tins. Allow muffins to cool for another 10 minutes or so before removing. These babies go well with a cold glass of milk and an over-stuffed chair.

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