Gluten Free Sourdough Muffins, Part 1

This recipe is split into two parts because I can’t be concise about it. Part 1 is all about my thoughts, notes, and detailed directions you’ll need to perform some of the actual recipe’s instructions. Part 2 is the recipe. Settle in. I’ll make it as short as possible, but no promises.

I am new to gluten free baking. Well, the kind that’s done specifically because it’s gluten free. Sometimes I make gluten free breads and pastry, but they tend to be traditional foods made in celebration of the ingredients rather than as a method of replicating gluten-laden products. Because it’s not safe for anyone with a gluten sensitivity to eat… well, anything, actually, from my kitchen, I’ve never dabbled in this style of baking.

Every time I talk to someone who’s engaged in GF baking, they tell me, “GF baking is hard.” Saying, “GF baking is hard” is like saying, “combat was hard.” Okay, not really. Combat is way harder and can’t even be compared, but you get the point. Maybe it’s more like, “childbirth is hard” type statements. If you have always baked with gluten, GF baking is kind of nightmarish at first. Unless you’re the kind of person who both loves a challenge and loves science experiments. I am one such person, so this has been both nightmarish and exhilarating.

All of that said, I did, in fact, text Sabrina at 2 in the morning and say, “GF baking is hard.” It was probably the first time in somewhere around 40 years of baking that I said something was hard in a tone tinged with uncertainty. Why was I even still at this at 2am?!

I also texted my friend Sarah about it, because she has celiac and I wanted some advice from someone with experience. We’re doing some brainstorming on the brioche I meant to tell y’all about today, because she says that while some GF baking is easy, bread that replicates wheaten bread is like the Quest for the Holy Grail.

The Rabbit of Caebannog

As now indicated, this originally was going to be a post about brioche. After I made what were basically differently shaped muffins (so quick bread), it was back to the drawing board on the brioche. That said, these “muffins” were amaaaaazing, even without fruit in them. As such, I didn’t want to decline to share it with you this week simply because I’d wanted to share something else.

It genuinely is worth the effort it will take to make it, despite whatever scary sounding stuff I may say in this post. The final result was moist, somewhat crumbly, soft, tender crusted, and has a lovely bite from the sourdough starter. It has hints of coconut, and I will probably throw a splash of vanilla and a dash of cardamom and lemon peel in next time I make it. Maybe with chopped dates. People who like to crumble cornbread or biscuits into milk, soups, or chili will in particularly enjoy this. It has that same kind of Gestalt to it.

You can make this … frosting for a number of different uses. It’s got exactly no similarity in raw texture to either a dough or a batter, but a stiff frosting? Yes. Whatever you want to call it, this dough’s a multi-tasker. As a (not hard-core) minimalist, this appeals to me a lot, and it’s a recipe I will make again simply because it’s yummy. Also because I will never again have peace in my home if I don’t keep making this for my kid. She is into it in ways that would make you think it was her first taste of carbs EVAR.

It’ll make fine biscuits or scones, can be used as a quick bread base, for muffins, bread pudding, would work well for cobbler, and for whatever else you find that it can do. Please let me know, because I am interested. Whatever you make, do not use fresh fruit (unless cobbler). This is a stupidly wet dough, and it really doesn’t need any more liquid.

This is a picture of buttercream frosting, but your mixture will look pretty close to the same.

Image courtesy of: https://ohsodelicioso.com/lick-the-beater-clean-buttercream-frosting/

The primary issue in making this recipe is this: You need a stand mixer.

Okay, you don’t need a stand mixer. But I hope you’re super fit if you don’t use one. I lean heavily toward the extremes of kneading when I’m baking breads, so I tend to not knead at all or knead for like, an hour. Sometimes I do in between, normal 10 minute kneading, but it’s rare. I will happily make puff pastry and croissants, which are considered laborious, and I make my babkas from hand start to finish. It’s literally an hour of kneading a fairly dense, but soft dough, for babka.

There is no way I would have been able to finish kneading this by hand without having my partner do it for him. I am simply not strong enough to work a dough that dense, in the size batch I did (which is twice what part 2 will tell you to do), for the time it takes to watch an episode of TURN. I generally sit on the kitchen floor (better leverage because I’m short) and knead while watching something on Netflix on my laptop, and this needed 1 episode’s worth of kneading. That’s probably around 45 minutes.

I really like Seth Numrich. Just sayin’.

What ended up happening is that I spent 15 minutes beating/stirring/folding/kneading (with a spatula) and my arms were just no. Enter stand mixer. I don’t actually own a stand mixer, but have one on long-term loan from my friend Leah. If you don’t have one, try to borrow one.

All of this said, the frosting/dough does need breaks in the middle of all this rigamarole, which makes it possible to do by hand by someone who wouldn’t win a powerlifting competition. Even with the stand mixer’s involvement, it got a total of 3 breaks, spaced 15 minutes apart. Your mixer will also thank you. It’s dense, y’all. DENSE frosting. So it’s very doable by hand if you just aren’t having it with a mixer (I normally feel this way about bready things, too), but make sure you take those breaks.

The aforementioned Sarah, who happens to be a powerlifter. She probably doesn’t need a stand mixer, but I bet she’ll use one anyway!

Shaping is the next thing we need to talk about:

You’re not going to be able to shape this like a wheaten dough. It’s not going to happen, so let go of the idea right now. Not letting go of that immediately caused me some mental anguish, but if you don’t have it in your head that this should work like every other dough you’ve played with, you’ll be happier. This is more like shaping frosting into quenelles.

You don’t need spoons to do these, nor hot water. In fact, cold water is better because it will let you deal with the frosting/dough without sticking to hands. But this is the basic process. Pick up a clump of dough with hands (or spoons!), shape, and then gently drop into your pan(s), muffin tins, or whatever it is you’re up to. The cold water is a big deal - it’s sticky, sticky dough, so please get a bowl of cold water to use while shaping. You’ll thank me later.