I had to break one open for that sweet cranberry reveal!

Brag-worthy Bran Muffins

Tuesday, January 5, 2021

If vanilla is a park bench — honest, reliable, unfussy — then bran muffins are like a brisk walk on a sunny, midwinter day.

You wake up, look outside, and hey! Blue skies! But you also know it’s going to be deceptively cold out, so if you (like me) have the temperature preferences of an old house cat, you grumble a bit.

Yet after wrapping yourself in more layers than a mille-feuille, you make it out the door, and suddenly you’re Emily Bronte, and “every leaf speaks bliss.” You might even indulge in a happy little romcom-style skip, which may or may not lead a nearby gentleman to look at you in vague alarm (when you are a clumsy woman, most dance steps look like tripping).

Such is the essence — the magic — of the bran muffin.

I’ve lost you. Let me explain.

At first, you think, Well, yeah, it’s a muffin, but it’s not a blueberry muffin, that golden child of the bakeshop display. And it’s got BRAN in it. My GRANDMA likes bran.

You should show your matriarch more respect!

In the same way, you appreciate a winter’s walk for being just that — and not comparing it with a summer’s day — so too must the bran muffin be cherished for the generous gentleman it is.

A good bran muffin is not only delightfully wholesome for a baked good but equally fiber-Licious with that gently nutty toothsomeness perfectly balanced by an amazingly moist and pillowy center. Add a dash of cinnamon and a handful of craisins, and those bran-haters don’t stand a chance! Not to mention we’ve got another one-bowl recipe here, ladies and gents.

This muffin comes to us from the incredibly talented and infinitely charming Deb Perelman of Smitten Kitchen fame. I’ve adapted it just barely to include equal parts whole wheat and all-purpose flour — the bran holds up nicely to the robustness of whole wheat — and used oat bran instead of wheat since that what my grocery store had in stock. This recipe, as Deb herself notes, is almost comically adaptable and delicious just about any way you whisk it.

“Any way you whisk it” is my new favorite phrase. I don’t know if it’s a thing, but if it it wasn’t before, it is now.

Can you tell I get excited about bran?

Now, before I quit my rambling altogether and just give you this devastatingly delicious bran recipe, I simply must share the following delightful observations derived from the invigorating walk that inspired me to bake these most wonderful muffins in the first place.

• A cheerful-looking lady with a plum velvet coat and red velvet loafers watching a heron while wearing a face mask printed with birds. (Neither she nor the bird seemed aware of this charming coincidence.)
• My packet of travel tissues that says “Evelyn” on the back, just above the barcode. Is this its name? I am tempted to buy more travel packs of tissues just to see if I get a Jeremy or Bartholomew next time.
• A photographer taking a picture of a Canada goose. Not the whole flock; he had eyes only for this one gander, and I both wondered about and respected whatever struck him as particularly charming about this singular fellow.
• The happiest little retriever you ever saw wearing a blue collar with a little sparkly bow. Also, a spunky Chihuahua the color of butter, who pranced like a show pony and sported the tiniest red sweater you can imagine.
• A very cute young man reading on a bench. (I can’t wait forever, Colin Firth.)
• A speed-walker who mentioned making “a mashed potato.” Can one make the dish “mashed potatoes” with a single potato? Or is this a new recipe? Or a slightly smashed baked potato? I was intrigued and hungry. The bran muffins were now inevitable.
• An older gentleman blowing bubbles for an infinitely delighted toddler.
• A young woman about my age, but managing to pull off a gorgeous low pony of dark purple curls as she had just walked off the runway in Milan. When I try to wear my hair in a low pony, I look like Paul Revere.
• A little boy on roller skates who looked very pleased with himself and would go exactly as fast as he deemed fit, thank you very much.
• A man-eating pasta salad out of Tupperware while admiring the water.

After the Tupperware pasta, I was as impatient for a tasty bran muffin snack as you must be after reading all that nonsense!

And so, FINALLY, your reward:

Yogurt Bran Muffins (adapted, slightly, from Deb Perelman’s Sour Cream Bran Muffins on her blog, Smitten Kitchen)

Note about weight measurements: The weight measurements included here were taken on my basic kitchen scale in grams.

Ingredients:

• 1/2 cup salted butter (1 stick, 113 g), melted and cooled slightly (you can also use unsalted butter if that’s what you have on hand; just add 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt when you add the baking soda and cinnamon)
• 1/4 cup firmly packed light brown sugar (47 g)
• 1 cup yogurt (267 g*) (I used plain, whole milk yogurt, but you could also use a cup of sour cream, as in Deb’s original; *weight may vary more depending on the fat content or style of your yogurt)
• 1 large egg
• 1/4 cup molasses (47 g) (or treacle)
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/2 cup whole wheat flour (67 g)
• 1/2 cup AP flour (67 g)
• 1 cup oat bran (135 g) (or miller’s wheat bran)
• 1/2 cup dried cranberries (70 g) (or raisins, or other dried chopped fruit; do your thang, girl)

Protocol:

1. Preheat oven to 400 F.
2. Butter the cups of a standard 12-cup muffin pan. I prefer to make 10 generously-sized bran muffins (whole wheat! bran! health!), but you can also make 12 perfectly respectable muffins if you so choose.
3. In a large bowl, whisk butter and brown sugar until smooth.
4. Add yogurt, egg, and molasses. Whisk until combined. At this stage, my batter looked a lot like smooth, loose peanut butter, which I found endearing.
5. Sprinkle the baking soda, salt (if using), and cinnamon over the batter and whisk until combined, then 10 more times around the bowl — the batter cannot be too well-mixed at this point.
6. Add whole wheat flour, AP flour, bran, and dried cranberries. Stir with a spatula until just combined.
7. Divide batter between your 10 (or 12, sigh) well-buttered muffin cups and bake the muffins in the middle of your preheated 400 F oven for 15 to 20 minutes, or until they are springy to the touch and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out batter-free.
8. While warm, turn the muffins out onto a rack and let them cool — they should pop out of their little muffin molds easily.
9. Eat one while feeling smug about its irreproachable tastiness and your equally admirable healthfulness.
10. Call your grandmother and apologize for ever doubting her excellent taste in muffins.
11. Return to feeling smug.

I find these freeze quite well and are delicious after about 30 seconds to a minute in the microwave. I just let them cool completely, then wrap each muffin in cling wrap before sealing them all in a gallon Ziploc and tossing them in the freezer for later.

Happy snacking!