It usually begins with eggs — large, bright eggs. I take a couple from the fridge, sometimes three, and set them in a wide bowl on the counter with a stick of butter. Then I let my mind wander: what to bake, which flours to use, what fruit is ready in the garden, and what’s in the pantry.
When the sun is out, fruit almost always finds its way into my baking. In May and June that usually means berries — cherries, strawberries, raspberries — and rhubarb, which I especially love.
I grew up with rhubarb everywhere. My mother and grandmothers each kept a patch in their gardens. Rhubarb thrives in cooler climates, and their plants were always robust and generous.
Rhubarb does well in New England too, so when spring arrives I’m eager to rediscover familiar flavors in the kitchen: flour, sugar, eggs, and the seasonal fruits that make baking feel fresh again.
Recently, Lulu and I stopped by a local farm to catch up on life and the animals. I knew the weather had cooled, so I decided to make muffins flavored with rhubarb and raspberries — perfect for the ride home.
I’ve made these muffins before — once before I fell ill, and then again when friends K. and D. visited as they were preparing to move to North Carolina. I remember handing them a box at the door and saying, “Take some home — you’ll enjoy them for breakfast.”
The next day K. emailed: “So yummy! We ate them while watching Charlie and Lola with R.!” Her note meant a great deal to me. She’s someone who shares love through food, and her words were quietly reassuring.
So I baked another batch before heading to the farm.
After running delightedly after sheep, goats, and chickens and visiting the newborn piglets, Lulu and I came home hungry. We were pleased to find a simple lunch of salad and muffins waiting — a meal that tasted distinctly of spring and June, of my grandmother’s garden, and of warm shared moments with friends.
