Mom called Tuesday to say the applesauce was ready. Not "would you like to come make applesauce" — the applesauce was ready, as in: the apples have been picked, the kitchen is staged, your attendance is not optional. Denise Cooper does not ask. Denise Cooper informs. I loaded Noah into the car seat and drove to Orem and walked into my mother's kitchen and the smell hit me so hard I had to grab the counter. Apples and cinnamon and sugar and steam and my mother standing at the stove in the same apron she's worn since 1987, stirring a pot the size of a small bathtub, and for three seconds I was eight years old and the world had not yet done anything unforgivable to me.
We made applesauce for six hours. Mom runs the operation — she peels, I core and chop, and this year Katie drove up from American Fork to help with the canning jars. We processed forty-two quarts. Forty-two. Mom does this every October, has done it every October since before I was born, and the repetition is the point. The world changes. Babies die. God goes quiet. But in October, Denise Cooper makes applesauce, and the jars line up on the counter like soldiers, and every single one is labeled in her handwriting — APPLESAUCE, OCT 2016 — and the labels are a promise that there will be an October 2017, and the promise is enough.
Noah ate applesauce with his hands and got it in his hair and on Mom's kitchen floor and Mom didn't say a word about the mess, which is how I know she's being gentle with me, because Denise Cooper has opinions about floor cleanliness that border on theological doctrine. She sent me home with twelve quarts. I put six in the pantry and used the other six to make applesauce muffins — a recipe I adapted from the back of a Quaker oats container by adding the applesauce instead of half the oil, which cuts the cost and makes them so moist that Mason ate four before I could get them on the cooling rack. I froze two dozen for school lunches. Index card written: APPLESAUCE MUFFINS, OCT 2016, THAW OVERNIGHT OR 15 SEC MICROWAVE.
On the drive home, Noah fell asleep and I sat in the driveway for ten minutes with the car running and the quiet pressing in and I thought about Mom's hands on the apple peeler, steady and sure, and how she has never once in sixty-seven years doubted that October would come and the apples would be ready. I want that certainty. I'm not there yet. But I have forty-two quarts of evidence that the seasons still turn, and that's close enough.
Standing in that driveway with a sleeping toddler and forty-two quarts of certainty, I knew exactly what I wanted to bake first—something that used Mom’s applesauce, something fast enough for a weeknight, and something my kids would actually eat. These muffins checked every box: they come together in one bowl, the applesauce keeps them tender for days, and Mason’s four-before-the-cooling-rack endorsement is about as good a review as I’ll ever get. Here’s how I make them.
Applesauce Oatmeal Muffins
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 24 muffins
Ingredients
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
- 1/2 cup granulated sugar
- 1/2 cup brown sugar, packed
- 2 teaspoons baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
- 1 1/2 cups unsweetened applesauce (homemade or store-bought)
- 1/4 cup vegetable oil
- 2 large eggs
- 1/2 cup milk
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Heat oven to 375°F. Line two standard 12-cup muffin tins with paper liners or grease well with nonstick spray.
- Combine dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, oats, granulated sugar, brown sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg until evenly mixed.
- Mix wet ingredients. In a separate bowl or large measuring cup, whisk together the applesauce, oil, eggs, milk, and vanilla until smooth and fully combined.
- Fold together. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir gently with a spatula until just combined—a few streaks of flour are fine. Do not overmix or the muffins will be tough.
- Fill the tins. Divide the batter evenly among the 24 muffin cups, filling each about 3/4 full. If desired, sprinkle the tops lightly with a pinch of cinnamon and sugar.
- Bake. Bake for 18—22 minutes, until the tops are set and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Do not overbake—pull them when the tops just spring back to the touch.
- Cool and store. Let muffins cool in the pan for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack. Store at room temperature for up to 3 days, or freeze in a zip-top bag for up to 3 months. To reheat from frozen: thaw overnight on the counter or microwave for 15 seconds.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 148 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 4g | Carbs: 26g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 138mg