Lemon Poppy Seed Muffins

My kids school is pretty fabulous. The teachers, they’re amazing. With the exception of maybe one or two, every one they’ve had has been wonderful, doing more than required, caring more than expected and generally giving each child exactly what they need to learn, grow and flourish during the school year. 

My hat is off to them because I can barely make it through a single afternoon of homework without a meltdown (my own, of course). Clearly they are angels here on earth and deserve way more than they get.

So that is why when our PTA asks for parents to contribute to a monthly teachers luncheon I am all in. For someone like me, with limited crafting ability and little desire to spend time serving on committees, a lunch where I can serve through cooking is like an ace in the hole. And as an added bonus, it’s pretty much anonymous. I simply cook (previously these cookies and this cake), box, drop, and roll. No need for anyone to know who made those yummy treats. If they’re delicious (which is what I’m aiming for), I’m cool with the mystery. If they’re terrible, I’m 100% fine with not taking the heat.

This expectation of anonymity is why, when I dropped off some crock pot chili last week for the “chili and baked potato bar” lunch and the school secretary handed me some tape and a sharpie kindly asking me to put my name on the crock pot, I darn near lost it in the lobby. 

Friends, I went into a brief but meteoric mental breakdown of epic proportions. Everything in me wanted to avoid putting my name on that crock pot of chili. Because, what if it sucked?

What if it was the worst chili in the bunch? And my name was on it. They would think that I am a terrible cook. Which would be fine except that I’m, you know, someone who does this thing. So then they’d wonder how on earth I do what I do. And then they’d all come to the most terrifying and damning conclusion possible. They would all know that despite my best efforts to hide it, I. AM. A. FRAUD.

This stream of consciousness is both why my therapist drives a Benz and also why I struggled to write my name on the tape. It’s why when I serve you a meal for the first time, no matter how often I have made it and how good I know it to be, I’m going to serve it with a disclaimer. It’s why I will never ever mention to you what I do for a living unless you pull it out of me and why once you do know, I’m hesitant to cook for you for fear that you’ll hate it. 

Here’s the thing, in one part of my overactive little brain I know that I’m good at what I do. I’m not a chef, but I can cook. This chili recipe, the one that put me over the edge into nightmares of salmonella and mass casualties, I’ve made it hundreds of times for family and friends. It’s good. I know this. 

So why then does this little niggling doubt come creeping up whenever I’m forced to own what I do to people outside of my general comfort zone? 

I am not sure, but if I had to guess I would say that I’m not alone. Decidedly more feminine in nature, this fear of being exposed as a fraud bites us all at one time or another. Whether we’re in the boardroom wondering how we’re going to convince everyone that we are worth our title or we’re at home desperately trying to be supermom, it hits us somewhere. It’s a complex psychological issue, I’m sure. Tied into childhood, self-worth and emotional health, it’s way bigger than anything I’m going to unpack in a 1000 word blog post.

But I will say this, I had to own my work last week. Social norms prevented me from doing what I really wanted to do (which was drop the crock pot, throw the sharpie across the lobby and run out of the school screaming). I had to do it. 

And guess what? Not only did I live, so did all of the teachers. If it sucked, no one told me. And I even got a few compliments. Imagine that. It wasn’t a disaster. I guess I’m not a fraud after all.

Shocking. 

Now I’m sure that many of you are a lot further along in your personal evolution than I am and are wondering how I even make it out of the door alive with all of my neuroses set so firmly in place. I wonder that too. But here’s the thing, whether we want to admit it or not, we’re all searching for our value and place in this world. We’re all trying to figure out what we’re supposed to do with the time that we’ve been given. Because no one wants to get to the end and say “yeah, well, that was a waste.”  We’re all striving to be more than a fraud. To own our place. 

And I’m here to tell you, if I lived through “tapegate 2018” you can too. Own your space, whether it’s the home, the kitchen, the boardroom or the classroom. I have a sneaking suspicion you are exactly where you are meant to be at exactly the time you are meant to be there. You’re not a fraud. You are valuable. Don’t run from exposure, own it. Each of us has been given gifts and talents and a purpose in this life. So own it. Own your story. 

It’s really not as terrifying as you’d think.

And to celebrate the fact that I’m not a fraud, I’m going to fully own the muffins I am taking to brunch tomorrow at Bible Study. I worked hard to get these Lemon Poppy Seed gems just right; baking has never been my thing, but for these I spent long hours and made four batches before they worked out. So I’m sharing them with you with full ownership. This is me, I made them. I am Meaghan and I am a cook. 

Enjoy.

Lemon Poppy Seed Muffins

May 17, 2019

Print This

By: Meaghan Dawson

Ingredients

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1 tablespoon lemon zest
• 1 cup milk (I used unsweetened vanilla almond milk--any kind will do)
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 1 large egg
• 1/4 cup butter, melted and then cooled
• 2 tablespoons lemon juice
• 1/2 cup full fat Greek yogurt (or sour cream)
• 2 tablespoons poppy seeds
• For the glaze:
• 1 cup confectioners sugar
• 2 tablespoons lemon juice

Directions

• Step 1 Preheat oven to 400. If using muffin liners, spritz the bottom of each with cooking spray. If not, spray each individual cup thoroughly.
• Step 2 In a large bowl whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt.
• Step 3 In second bowl, add sugar and lemon zest, stirring until combined (I used my hands to rub the lemon into the sugar)
• Step 4 Add in the milk, butter, vanilla, lemon juice and egg, whisking to combine.
• Step 5 Stir in the yogurt.
• Step 6 Add the wet ingredients to the dry, whisking just until combined (approximately 20-30 seconds). The batter will be lumpy–that’s ok!
• Step 7 Stir in poppy seeds.
• Step 8 Fill each muffin cup until about 2/3 full.
• Step 9 Bake for 15 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
• Step 10 Cool completely.
• Step 11 For the glaze:
• Step 12 Combine sugar and lemon and stir until glaze forms.
• Step 13 Drizzle over cooled muffins.

Sharing is Caring

Facebook

Google

Twitter

Linkedin

Stumbleupon

Yummly