Gluten-Free Zucchini Breakfast Cake

Karina's Gluten-Free Zucchini Quinoa Breakfast Cake

Breakfast! Let's Eat Cake.

Remember those maple sweetened almond zucchini mini-muffins? I do. They've become one of our favorite grab-and-go gluten-free treats. I tuck a bag of them- fresh out of the freezer- into my bulging purse knapsack beach bag tote whenever we venture far afield. Like. The Valley. Because, well. You never know. It can get crazy. In L.A. you might end up jammed on the 405. Stuck as in four lanes = a parking lot stuck. Stuck as in, Dude that's my hunger growling louder than Kurt Cobain's rasp on the rattling radio speaker pleading, What else could I be? All apologies.

I know this from experience. I learned the hard way (the way I learn most things in life). Driving in L.A. can lead to stop-n-go squatting in the baking sun. And a where is my nail file and why did I leave the apartment without food and water and ice in a cooler panic. Because the thirty-three minutes it took yesterday to get to Studio City is seventy-five minutes today.

That's when I started imagining a zucchini cake.

For breakfast.

On the 405.


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Gluten-Free Peach Muffins with Almond Flour

Gluten-free peach muffins baked with almond flour.

Juicy Peach Muffins

Today is a total beach day. And here I am working. Editing photographs of peach muffins and writing up a gluten-free recipe. No rest for the wicked. Or the self-employed. We bloggers toil at our living daily, working through holidays, Sundays, football games, and oftentimes, dinner. We tend and tweak and pretty much live a tethered geek life. The opposite of glamorous.

Or maybe it's just me.

Because there are plenty of extroverted bloggers who travel and attend blogging conferences and hob nob. They dine together and smile brilliantly in group pictures, tweeting breathlessly their mutual squee and Instagram cocktails. 

And I envy them. Sometimes. Just a little.

But alas, it is not meant to be. I am destined, you see, to the role of wallflower. 

Because the mere, fleeting snippet of a thought about flying somewhere- alone- which, you know, entails the whole going through various humming x-ray machines and raising your arms for total strangers wielding wands up your inner thigh, not to mention, the whole taking one's shoes off and fumbling to put them back on (the right feet) so that the person (make that seventeen persons) behind you doesn't get impatient while you wrestle with your buckles and your unzipped purse and boarding pass and reading glasses and explain to the squinting security guy that the mystery wad of metal in your bag's side pocket is only dimes and quarters you collect for Santa Monica parking meters as he picks out all thirty-seven coins just to make sure and for good measure keeps your nail clippers (in all the excitement, you didn't confess you were also carrying nail clippers). 

And then there's the whole belting yourself into a hulking metal beast with wings that weighs goddess knows how many megatons, and snugging your post-baby pelvis to a polyester burnt orange float-able seat cushion between a shiny headed businessman who obviously ate raw onions for lunch and college professor reading the New York Times who you just know secretly wants to discuss Obama's clean energy policy. 

Where is Matthew McConaughey when you need him?

Such visions send spikes of fear and loathing down my duodenal canal.

So I imagine muffins.

I fondle peaches at the market admiring their curve and fuzz. I peel them gently and coax out the stone pit. I slice them into jewels that will fit on the tongue and give up a burst of sweet tart juice. I stir almond meal into powder soft flours and squeeze lime juice and sprinkle cinnamon.

I bake.

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Gluten-Free Peach Cake with Cinnamon Streusel

It was so hard to let this cake cool before cutting into it.

Dreams of Peach Cake 

Why is it when I bake a coffee cake I get all dreamy and gooey inside, like a knee-socked school girl in Latin class, riveted to the patch of peachy, fuzzy cloud against the swaying swatch of blue between the maple tree branches outside the classroom window, imagining love itself is out there, waiting, breathing, just beyond reach, ready to pounce. Like grace. When you least expect it, a gift arrives.

Often in a form you don't recognize at first.

Like a plaid shirt.

And hands that juggle.

The truth is, I didn't even know juggling was on my list.

My top criteria (scrawled in gel black ink one rainy night post divorce) listed kindness, a sense of humor, artistic.

It conjured images of tempered masculinity. Intelligence. Adept at conversation. Curiosity.

Likes women (a big one).

It mentioned nothing about juggling. Or fierce devotion to coffee. Or a willingness to wash dishes. It neglected to include the seductive power of coffee cake. The sexy allure of a cinnamon dusted chin.

So imagine my surprise when on our second date (post French roast coffee and dirt bomb muffins) he grabs three apples. And juggles. While whistling. I can't remember the tune.

Because my knees turned to pudding.

And now, almost twenty years later, I hear a key in the door. And my heart is grateful. It's him. The guy in a plaid shirt.

Bearing peaches.

More gifts.

And once more, I accept.


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Gluten-Free Almond Zucchini Mini-Muffins

Just sweet enough, gluten-free zucchini mini-muffins.

Temptation. A to Z. Almond flour and zucchini mini-muffins sweetened only with pure maple syrup. That's right. No cane sugar. Almond flour and bourbon vanilla bring their subtle, natural sweetness to gluten-free muffin recipes, so why cloak it with a heavy dose of sugar? And adding a lip-smacking kiss of ginger wakes up the zucchini (which tends to fall asleep in baking recipes, due to utter lack of commitment and verve).

I've added quinoa flakes for extra protein, and brown rice flour to round out the whole grains. And a small bit of tapioca starch- to give these whole grain based muffins some lift. Now the only hitch is, don't eat all twenty-four at once, Darling.

Tell yourself you're only going to eat one.

Well, maybe two.

Don't think about three.

Or imagine four.

Because that fourth delectable bite of nary a muffin- really, it's only a tease of a muffin- might stir your desire for a fifth. And the next thing you know, half the mini-muffin pan is empty. And you are standing, wide-eyed and innocent, brushing baby sized crumbs off your chin, when your husband swings around the corner into the sunlit kitchen and inhales, declaring, Sweet Tapdancing Buddha, it smells good in here! What did you bake?

And thinking lickity-split fast you tell him, I made a dozen almond flour zucchini mini-muffins.

Want to try one?


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Peanut Butter Ice Cream with Coconut Milk

The richest, creamiest vegan ice cream I've ever made.

Peanut Butter Ice Cream, Baby.

It is sultry and steamy here. And, Babycakes, I am not cooking. I am not even boiling water for my habitual ritual of afternoon tea. I am sitting in front of a petite blue desk-top fan. Eating ice cream. Homemade ice cream, to be exact. With nary a trace of dairy or gluten. And apparently, it is the best homemade ice cream I have ever made (so says my ever willing, taste-testing husband).

The inspiration came via one of our favorite Los Angeles restaurants- Akasha, in Culver City. At Akasha you can always find a lovely gluten-free choice on the menu- as well as something vegan, which by default, is dairy-free. A sigh-of-relief option for those of us saddled not only with celiac disease, but a dairy intolerance as well. (As a side note, I have found it harder to dine out dairy-free than gluten-free-- chefs love their butter, cream, and cheese. And because they pre-prepare so many items on the menu, it is often impossible to find a dairy-free choice.) One of the gluten-free dessert choices at Akasha is vegan peanut butter ice cream. It. Is. Simply. Divine.

So I decided to try my hand at re-creating it.

Here's what I came up with.

You're welcome.

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Gluten-Free Goddess Zucchini Bread

Delicious gluten-free zucchini bread.

A Bread Even Gluten-Eaters Will Love

Sharing a favorite summer recipe here on Gluten-Free Goddess-- a cinnamon laced tea bread made with garden fresh zucchini. You'll love it. And so will everyone else.

GFG Tips on gluten-free bread baking:

Make sure your batter isn't cold when you put it into the oven. If you keep your flours in the fridge, for instance, this will cool down your batter quite a bit.

If you find your batter is cooler than room temperature, allow the batter to rest in the pan near the pre-heating stove and let it come to room temperature before you place the bread pan in the oven to bake (I also do this with cakes sometimes).

The first time I tried making gluten-free zucchini bread I did not press the moisture out of the shredded zucchini and my loaf was a tad gummy in the middle from too much moisture. So pat those zucchini strands dry, Campers.

If you find your tea breads and cakes turning out gummy, or falling after baking, you may want to take your oven's temperature- some ovens never quite reach the proper temperature. You can combat this by baking longer, or upping the temp a bit. If the oven temp is not the issue, then start adding a tablespoon or two less liquid to your batters (you may live in a humid climate and your flours may be absorbing moisture; too much moisture can make for a gummy product). 

Browse oven thermometers here at Amazon. 

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Gluten-Free Blueberry Muffins (Coconut Flour)

Bake these tender gluten-free blueberry muffins early.

Baking a batch of fresh blueberry muffins is one of my favorite simple pleasures. I do it early, before the summer day turns sultry and my body slows to a liquid ballet of movement designed to conserve every last salty drop of intention and energy my creaky, vanilla lotioned body can muster. I rise and bake to the rosy morning sun, stirring my batter half asleep, sipping hot coffee. A northern mockingbird sings his deceit outside the kitchen window. He is remarkable in his uncanny repertoire, a gifted mimic, silhouetted high against a summer-blue sky, perched on the tallest utility pole.

Fresh organic blueberries- one of the best tastes of summer.

I've been reading this week. Finding books a provocative companion. Words that illuminate and poke. Shared stories that send shivers of recognition, trigger anger, or tug one's soul (kicking and whining) into that impossible place- that place where you don't want to go. The stuff that scares you. Because it might be true.

Reading a book about mothers and daughters at twenty is one thing. You bring to its wisdom your newly hatched self-hood, your fresh experience, your familial-infused expectations (and prejudices). The expectations, assumptions and dreams of a young woman. You are the heroine, the daughter starting out on your journey, looking at a long and winding road ahead. So you read. And listen. And play with ideas. You see what fits. And what doesn't.

And then you stand, decades later, stirring blueberry muffin batter on a cloudless morning. And here, now, the words ring deeper. And the truth stings darker. There is a lifetime of days spiraling out beneath you and above you (because by now you know that time is not linear, or finite, like a string of numbers across a calendar). And the same words vibrate with a different meaning, engraved with experience and regret. The same words illuminate as if from a different light source.

Not from the world.

From within you.

And so here I am. A daughter, still. Learning something old as if it is new. And discovering truths as if for the first time, arriving, as T. S. Elliot wrote, where we started. 

Here's the book at Amazon- You're Wearing That?

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