Oh hello there. Here it is, another year.

I posted a picture to Instagram today, asking if anyone would like a recipe for blueberry muffins that are so easy I made them before I even had a cup of coffee and my family still wanted to be around me. Miracle!

Bonus: they were gorgeous, and as their muffin mother, I had to take their picture. A few dozen times.

just look at them.

just look at them.

A few things and then the recipe:

  • It’s worth seeking out frozen wild blueberries. They’re significantly smaller and taste more like blueberries. You can find them at Trader Joes. But any fruit will do in this muffin situation.

  • You can get fancy with these with a little pinch of nutmeg, a little lemon zest…

  • Fill the muffin cups almost all the way to the top, which sounds like baking blasphemy, but here results in the craggy, sky high…muffin top. The kind you want.

  • You can easily half this recipe.

  • Bake away, friends! Tag me if you do, I want to raise my coffee cup to you this weekend. May we find more moments to take time to treat our friends and family this weekend.

not-a-morning-person blueberry muffins

makes one dozen large muffins


  • 3 cups all purpose flour

  • 1 cup sugar (you can go up to 1 1/2 cups here if you like a sweeter muffin)

  • 1 tsp salt

  • 4 teaspoons baking powder

  • 2/3 cup oil

  • 2 eggs

  • milk (around 1 cup, see method below)

  • 2 tsp vanilla

  • 2 cups fresh or frozen blueberries (or strawberries, or chocolate chips, or….)


Preheat oven to 400, spray (or use paper liners) a 12 cup muffin tin.

In a mixing bowl, whisk together all the dry ingredients.

In a two-cup liquid measuring cup, measure oil, crack eggs, and then pour in milk until it reaches the 2 cup mark. Add vanilla and stir with a fork to combine.

Pour liquid into dry ingredients and stir until everything just comes together. Don’t overdo it here.

Fold in berries, scoop batter into muffin cups, almost all the way to the top. Sprinkle with sugar if you’re up to it.

Bake for 20-25 minutes. Pour a cup of coffee.

Muffins are ready when they spring back when you gently touch them.

Marvel at your baking prowess.

who do I think I am? a food blogger?

who do I think I am? a food blogger?

AuthorBeth Ables

Well, today some of us might have looked up, for the moon. A blue moon, a super moon, a blood moon. All of it, all at once. I looked out the window of our front door at 6 am and saw it bright, beaming through the neighbor’s oak tree branches.

”Maybe it’s a little bigger, but it’s not red or anything,” my husband says behind me. His clothes smell cold from outside, he went up to the garden to get a better look. Worth the chill and the time

Texts later asked if we were watching the NASA live feed. But I was taking my son to school, praying our morning prayer for his buddies, his teachers, and that he’ll remember to pee.  

The significant and insignificant all at once and which is which?  

We sleep through a lot of things, muffled to the wonder of existing. Breathing 96 times an hour, blinking and feeling and grasping. Dreaming and doing and we just absorb it all. Noses down, scrolling, a little mute and numbed.  That’s me, snoozing and stressed. Existing. 

Then, at 9:25 this morning, there—through the dirty pocked glass of our windshield: there—the mid morning light on tree trunks...and I was awake. I noticed.  I felt the air in my lungs. 

You do this too, I’m sure of it. But knowing when it’s coming is a mystery. It’s not from some newscaster in a studio reminding you of a phenomenon of astronomy, it just happens. And we marvel, we stop and remember. At the significant and the smallness. The aching marvel of gravity and existing.

I think this is what writing is for me, a nudge to noticing. Do you see that? Have you felt like this before? Does this ache familiar? Like a child gathering parking lot gravel and twigs and moss bits. Look at this look at this mama look. Watch me. Not seeking but sharing. Delighting. 

We have to slow down, we have to help each other. A poke between the shoulder blades. Look! Look.

Let’s nudge each other awake. 

AuthorBeth Ables

(Is this becoming a food blog? Yikes)  

So I posted this picture on the old Insta earlier today:   


And people liked it more than the typical pictures of my kids, so here's the recipe (it's vague, but just go with it): 

Oh--so a little backstory, I'm doing a whole30 type thing right now, an elimination diet to remove some inflammatories from my diet (wow I sound Iike a geezer), mainly because of some health stuff ("stuff" meaning maybe Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever--a real true thing. Not a bluegrass band at the upper state fair.).

So here's the recipe which is good and also noble because if you're into those sort of health things (no gluten, no dairy, etc) this ticks all those boxes. Ticks. Daggone. TICKS!


1 package frozen (thawed) shredded hash browns  

1 dozen eggs (or in my case, 8--yeahhh)  

salt and pepper  

nutritional yeast (whaaat...or shredded sharp cheddar, or neither. All work)  

add ins like BACON! Chopped peppers, mushrooms, green onions....etc



preheat your oven to 425.  

Spray your muffin tins. You'll have such a sad experience if you don't. 

In a big bowl, combine hash browns with salt n peppa, cheese or yeast or nothing.  

Add a super generous pinch (like a grab) of potatoes and basically fill each tin. Like to the top. You'll think "I simply can't use all these potatoes!" But you will. Do it.  

Then with your fingers, smoosh the potatoes to the sides and bottom of the pan, leaving a space in the middle for your egg mixture. There should be a shaggy overlap on each one. That's good! It'll cook down a bit. Also looks nest-y and gives you lots of crunchy bits. 

Bake for 20-25 minutes til light brown.  

In the meantime, if you want, crack your eggs and wisk them. However, if you happen to love a good runny yolk, sit on your hands.  

Wisk in green onion and a little s+p.  

After the potatoes have baked, turn the oven down to 350.  

Pour egg mixture in each hollow, OR crack an egg into each one. My husband doesn't do runny yolk. Aside: what's with the Internet's fascination with little runny yolk pierced by a fork videos? I like a good egg like that but the videos are gross to me. WHY. 

Top each egg with whatever mix ins (toppings I guess, but they sink in) you've chosen.  

Bake for 10-12 minutes. Cool a little, then remove from the pan. Eat all the crispy bits left behind.

So so good.  

Also good heated back up. So boom -- you just made your breakfast for the week.  

AuthorBeth Ables