I forgot how incredible a simple corn muffin griddled and browned with butter can be, until yesterday morning.
Eric and I took the commuter rail from Boston to Gloucester, MA.(pronounced "Glouwster") yesterday around 10:10am. We bought tickets to board the Seven Seas, trying to sight some humpback whales along the Gulf of Maine. 10am was the earliest rail from the North Station heading that direction, so we knew we'd miss the 8am tour ship. The second ship departed at 1:30 in the afternoon, leaving us nearly two hours to kill after we arrived to the quiet, small town at 11:32.
Starving we stumbled into an adorable cafe, only 6 tables deep. Two Sisters Coffee Shop. After we ordered heaps of food--accustomed to the more typical Boston portion-price ratio--Thick-cut homefries, "Scooner omlettes", a $4.95 plate of french toast made with in-house Portugese Sweet bread-- we'd thought we have to fight over the shared plate. But not actually. Everything was oversized in both portion and flavor.
The waitress pointed to the board, "You also get a choice of toast, anything from the whiteboard." "Anything?!" My eyes glazed over the extensive list, bulleted with everything from raisin pecan, to gluten free english muffins. Then, beneath the breads I read: "corn muffin and blueberry muffin". "Yep, anything on the board!" she assured. Bright-eyed, we each ordered ourselves a muffin. I went with corn.
They came to the table browned and fanned out, filling up all the white space on their plates. They looked just how momma used to serve them; sliced in pieces, buttered, and crusted on the stovetop. And these muffins where half the size of my head. Huge; you couldn't just slice them in half...they had to be sliced in quarters. I drizzled mine with maple syrup, and greased it with even more butter. No regrets. I devoured every crumb.
This morning I woke up haunted by muffin memories. Dreaming of them all over again, I made up a breakfast version that would eradicate all those cravings. It really did do the trick. And there are still crumbs caught in Eric's beard, so I think he also agrees with my sentiments. —Jerrelle Guy
See what other Food52ers are saying.