We love the small heat of cardamom, like a tiny roar at the back of the sweetness. Its warmth reminded us of ginger and cinnamon. And we love cardamom with pears — dripping juice with a bit of savory flavor.
After all that, why not use brown butter? It has a depth that no golden stick of butter can offer.
These muffins have all those tastes, along with the molasses hint of teff flour, the nuttiness of almond flour, and the hearty taste of buckwheat.
Plus, they’re gluten-free. —glutenfreegirl
D’Anjou pear, grated
buckwheat flour (preferably not toasted)
2 1/4 ounces
1 3/4 ounces
6 1/2 ounces
coconut palm sugar
5 1/4 ounces
whole-fat plain yogurt
5 1/4 ounces
- Preheat the oven to 350°. Grease a muffin pan or line with muffin liners.
- Set a skillet over medium-high heat. Add the butter and let it melt, then bubble, then brown, swirling it around once in awhile. Do not let the butter burn. Turn off the heat.
- Add the grated pear, cardamom, ginger, and cinnamon to the brown butter. Stir them around to incorporate the brown butter into the ingredients. Set aside.
- Combine the almond, buckwheat, and teff flours with the potato starch and arrowroot powder in a large bowl. Whisk to incorporate and aerate the flours together. Add the baking soda, baking powder, kosher salt, and coconut sugar. Whisk again.
- Whisk the eggs, yogurt, and buttermilk together until they are fully combined. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and pour in the liquids. Mix with a rubber spatula until the ingredients are mostly combined. Add the pear mixture and crumble the walnuts into the muffin batter. Stir until everything is fully incorporated.
- Fill the muffin tins almost full. Slide the muffins into the oven. Bake until the muffins are browned with a bit of a crunch, the top springs back to the touch, and a knife goes through cleanly, about 25 minutes.
- Allow the muffins to cool in the tins for 5 minutes, then remove to a cooling rack. It’s hard, but let the muffins cool for 15 minutes before eating.
Shauna writes about food. Danny cooks it.
We grow excited every Saturday morning to go to the farmers’ market. This time of year, a Billy Allstot tomato is enough to make us look like goons at the stand, jumping up and down with excitement. We will eat one slice with sea salt, standing over the sink. Another goes to our baby daughter. The rest might go into the smoker to make smoked tomato salsa, or thrown together with watermelon and good olive oil for a watermelon gazpacho, or stacked with smoked salmon and drizzled with horseradish sour cream.
Every day is new. I have no idea what we’re having for dinner tonight. But I’m sure interested to find out.