The Notebooks
by Josée Fiset

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The muffin that didn’t see itself as a cupcake

I remember the year 1970. With daisies in their hair, hippies rejected consumer society and embraced a back-to-nature outlook. In the kitchens, all of a sudden the muffin replaced the angels beneath the halos. The fast-food industry then adopted it and made small cakes lacking fibre and protein, and fatty, sweet and salty. But all the muffins of the world did not lose their identity…

I don’t wear Birkenstocks. I eat bacon. I don’t have dreadlocks or tattoos. I recycle and compost, but I draw the line at meditation. Ah, and no, I have not bought Gwyneth Paltrow’s book. However, I loooooove Première Moisson’s orange-date muffins. I don’t love them because they’re sugar-free and healthy; I like them because they're good. Because they have substance. Because they don’t have the texture of a sea sponge and the troubling look of an atomic mushroom that follows a nuclear explosion. Every bite is delicious, tasty, and… I would even say, necessary!

To explain my own, voluntary dependence, I made a Kurt Wallander of myself and identified the key aspect that makes me love them so much. It’s a purée made from dates and rehydrated in orange juice that gives them their softness and eliminates the need to add sugar. It also reduces the percentage of fat in the preparation, of which the list of ingredients is quite brief: organic khorasan wheat flour and soy, roasted sunflower seeds, a little milk, eggs, a little bit of coconut and canola oil, and a dash of cinnamon. And that’s it.

In the carrot-pineapple version, the base is a sulphite-free, rehydrated raisin purée. In both cases, the result is a far cry from the outrageous products of certain chains, richer in calories than a Big Mac and almost as fatty as a poutine!

I have never really been tempted to put my head upside down and my feet in the air on a yoga mat, but I swear to you that my date muffin makes me utter the most passionate and spiritual Oh-mmmmmm!

by Benoît Trépanier


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