Lemon Blueberry Zucchini Muffins

I had a fight with a vendor today and I won, which is not news because I always win fights with vendors, but this one was particularly satisfying. The produce company has been sending me substandard cilantro for three weeks — wilted, yellowing, smelling like nothing. Cilantro should smell like cilantro. If it smells like nothing, it IS nothing, and I am not paying for nothing.

I called the sales rep — a young man named Brian who has clearly never eaten anything with cilantro in his life — and I explained to him, in great detail, the difference between fresh cilantro and the sad little bundles of green disappointment he has been sending to my hospital. I may have raised my voice. Brian may have put me on hold twice to collect himself. We reached an agreement: fresh cilantro, delivered Monday and Thursday, and if it is wilted, I am switching companies and I am telling every food service manager in the Hartford hospital system why. Brian said, Yes, ma am. I said, My name is Carmen.

Eduardo thinks I am too hard on vendors. Eduardo has never had to feed fifteen hundred people with wilted cilantro. Eduardo works in insurance. Insurance is about numbers. Food is about life and death — maybe not literally, not usually, but when you are feeding sick people in a hospital, the food matters. It might be the only good thing in their day. I am not going to let Brian from Sysco take that away from them with his sad cilantro.

Sofia had a chemistry test today and she thinks she did well. She has been talking more about nursing — she watches medical shows on TV and asks me questions about the hospital. Mami, is it really like that? No, mija, it is not. Nobody on those shows ever eats. In a real hospital, everyone eats, because I make sure of it.

I called Mami tonight and told her about the cilantro fight. She said, You should grow your own. I grew my own in the yard. Mami, you lived in Puerto Rico where things grow because the sun exists. I live in Hartford, Connecticut, where the sun is a rumor from April to October and a myth from November to March. She said, Excuses, Carmen. Seventy-nine years old and she still knows how to make me feel twelve.

Made a quick sancocho tonight — the beef version, with yuca and green banana and corn. Comfort food. The kind of food you make when you have spent the day fighting about cilantro and you need something that tastes like your mother kitchen. Eduardo had two bowls. He is a good man. He eats what I cook and he does not complain and he lets me fight with vendors in peace. That is love, mi amor. That is twenty-eight years of love in two bowls of sancocho.

The next morning I woke up still thinking about Mami saying excuses, Carmen, and I decided I was not going to fight with anyone or anything — not vendors, not cilantro, not even Eduardo if he left his coffee cup on my counter again. I wanted to make something that felt like a small, quiet act of kindness to myself. These muffins are that. They have lemon and blueberries and zucchini hidden inside like a secret, and when they come out of the oven the whole kitchen smells like maybe Hartford isn’t so bad after all. Here is how I made them.

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 24

Ingredients

Non-stick pan spray and butter to prepare muffin tins
6 tablespoons butter, softened
6 tablespoons vegetable shortening, softened
2 cups granulated sugar plus more to sprinkle on tops
Zest of one lemon
3 whole large eggs
2 teaspoons lemon extract
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
Juice from one lemon, about 1/4 cup
2 cups frozen blueberries, thawed and drained
3 1/2 cups zucchini, shredded on large holes of box grater
4 tablespoons bread flour, divided
2 cups bread flour
2 cups white pastry flour
1 teaspoon salt
3 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
2 tablespoons whole milk
2 tablespoons vegetable oil

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F with two racks in center of oven leaving enough room for muffins to rise.
Prepare the muffin tins. Prepare two 12-cup standard muffin tins by greasing the tops with butter and spraying the inside with pan spray. Add muffin cup liners to each.
Cream the butter and sugar. In the bowl of a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, cream butter and shortening for one minute. Add sugar and zest and cream for one minute.
Add the eggs and extracts. With machine on medium speed, add one egg at a time to mix. Scrape sides and cream for two and a half minutes to add air into the batter. Add lemon extract, vanilla extract and lemon juice and beat to combine.
Flour the blueberries. Place thawed drained blueberries in a small bowl and add two tablespoons of the bread flour and mix to combine. Set aside.
Prepare the zucchini. After shredding the zucchini, place in a cheese cloth and wring out as much water as possible. Place zucchini in a small bowl and add two tablespoons of the bread flour and toss to combine. Set aside.
Combine the dry ingredients. In a separate bowl combine both flours, salt and baking powder and combine with a whisk.
Mix wet and dry together. With the mixer running on low, slowly add flour alternating with milk and oil until all flour, oil and milk are mixed in. Scrape and mix just long enough to combine. Do not mix further or muffins will be tough.
Fold in the blueberries and zucchini. Remove bowl from mixer and with a wooden spoon or spatula, gently fold in blueberries and zucchini.
Fill the muffin cups. Using an ice-cream scoop, divide the batter between the 24 cups, filling right to the brim.
Sugar the tops. Sprinkle a little granulated sugar over the tops of each.
Bake. Bake for five minutes at 400 degrees F then reduce to 375 degrees F and continue to bake for 25-30 minutes. Ours took 28 minutes after the initial five minutes at the higher temperature.
Test for doneness. Use a tooth pick poked into the center to test for doneness. The muffins are done when the toothpick comes out clean and the tops are lightly browned.
Cool. Let cool for five minutes, then remove each muffin to cooling racks.

Nutrition (per serving)

Lemon Blueberry Zucchini Muffins — When You Need Something Sweet After a Day of Fighting Over Cilantro