Best gluten-free muffins I'll probably never make again

So, most of you know that Miss B is on a gluten-free diet, and has been for almost two years. She doesn't have Celiac disease or an allergy, but she seemed to be sensitive to the stuff. When she was in kindergarten, we started to suspect that she might have some variety of Sensory Integration Disorder, specifically hypersensitivity to sound and hyposensitivity to smell and touch, with difficulties making transitions from one activity to the next, and balance issues, and just a whole lot of "bad listening days." Her teacher and guidance counselor and I filled out forms to get her an appointment with a developmental psychologist at the children's hospital. That took a year (Canada's pretty good with health-care coverage, but the shortage of specialists in our area makes for some looooong waits). The doctor agreed that there were probably sensory issues and anxiety issues (anxiety runs in our family - not just runs, fair gallops - we're a tightly-wound bunch), then put us on waiting lists for an occupational therapist and a psychiatrist, for which we're still waiting. I guess if she looked like she was going to burn the school down or anything, she would be pushed through the wait list, but as it is she's a clever, social, pleasant child (for the most part), so we just have to wait.

Anyway, when Miss B was having troubles in kindergarten, I started her on a gluten-free diet to see if it would help her manage some of her nuttiness - many experts suggest that children with behavioural issues ought to go gluten-free, and my mom, who is a holistic nutritionist, told me it might be a good idea. Miss B's teacher, my mom, and I all noticed an immediate change in her behaviour - she was more calm, less likely to get overwrought, more attentive, less inclined to freak out over small, silly things. She just seemed happier.

As time went on, though, it became harder to tell if the diet was working. She had had some digestive issues before, and while they seemed to improve for a while, they came back full force last year. Her anxieties vanished for a while, but they've come back, too (though nowhere near as bad as they were). Hubby C wasn't at all convinced that the diet was doing anything for her, and I had to admit that it looked sketchy, and that perhaps gluten had nothing to do with anything. It seemed that perhaps her initial improvements might have been a placebo-type thing, where she believed the diet would make her feel better, so it did, but only for a while.

So we decided to do a challenge diet this month. We had to wait until a time when she wasn't in school (in case everything went off the rails), and when she wasn't on holiday with her dad (because kids are weird on holiday anyway, so it's hard to gauge anything).

I started by sneaking spelt flour into her pancakes and muffins. I hated doing it - I am adamantly against lying to children about what they're eating - but if I were to tell her, it would have skewed the results. Which were... nothing. No reaction at all. After a while I bumped it up and started baking with actual wheat. Zip. No reaction at all. Then I actually suggested that she eat something gluten-y to see how she felt (we had spoken before about doing a challenge diet some day, but we never decided when "some day" would be). I watched her tentatively eat a chicken finger at the mall. Nothing bad happened.

We've been letting her eat pretty much what she wants since, and I've been taking notes. On days when she's had a lot of white flour, she complains of an upset stomach in the evenings, but on days when she's eaten spelt or small amounts of wheat flour in combination with the usual GF flours, she's just fine.

What does this mean? Well, I've grown accustomed to my GF baking, but I'm not married to it. I love quinoa flour and buckwheat flour and coconut flour, and I'm not going to ditch them, but I have to tell you, this is a huge load off. It means that Miss B can eat cake along with everyone else at birthday parties, and that other parents don't have to stress out about what to feed her at playdates.

 I know there are readers who come to this site just for GF recipes and tips, and I don't want to abandon you. Having had to deal with GF life, even temporarily, I know how much of a hassle it can be, and if sharing my experiences can make it easier for you, I want to help.

So what do I do? Should I keep posting GF foods only, so people know they can rely on the recipes on this site? Or should I post whatever I make and then tag it as GF? What do you think?

In the mean time, this is the best muffin recipe ever, and it's gluten free. I say I'll probably never make them again, but that's a lie. I probably will. They're awesome.



Gluten-free berry muffins
(makes 9)

1/2 cup brown rice flour
1/4 cup quinoa flour
1/4 cup stoneground corn meal
1/4 cup tapioca flour
1 teaspoon xanthan gum
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar
1/4 cup sugar
2 eggs
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup vegetable oil of choice
2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar
generous handful of berries (about 1/2 cup)(if frozen, keep frozen)

1. Preheat oven to 400F. Grease muffin tin.
2. Whisk dry ingredients together in a large bowl.
3. In a medium bowl, lightly beat eggs. Mix in milk, oil, and vinegar.
4. Add wet ingredients to dry and combine with a few quick strokes of the spoon.
5. Lightly stir in berries.
6. Fill muffin cups about 2/3 full. If some cups are left empty, fill them halfway with water to keep the tin from scorching.
7. Bake about 20 minutes, until muffins are golden and springy.
8. Remove from tin, cool (if desired) and eat.

I used cranberries for these. To make cranberries a little more kid-palatable, here's what I do:

• cut each cranberry in half
• put them in a small bowl
• cover them with about 1/4 cup maple syrup (or runny honey)
• let them sit and suck up the syrup while I prepare the batter (about 10 minutes)

When I do this, I reduce the sugar by about a tablespoon.

As for Miss B, we'll still have to figure out what the root of her troubles is, and it may indeed be a dietary issue, but then again it may not. Anxiety might be causing the digestive troubles, or the digestive troubles might cause the anxiety. At any rate, it's all very low-level and manageable, and she's still a most wonderful, intelligent, creative, talented, funny, loving, loyal, headstrong, chatty, beautiful child, and I'm lucky she's mine.

Where we were

A friend let us use her house in Eastport for a few days. Ah, bliss. The Eastport Peninsula is one of my favourite parts of Newfoundland. Miss B has been there with us twice, but we had never traveled with the boys before.


This is Sandy Cove beach. Sandy Cove is right next to Eastport, and it's lovely. We don't have a lot of sandy beaches in Newfoundland, so this place is pretty special.

There were a few jellyfish on Saturday, bobbing about, looking like brains.

The water was perfect for splashing about in. Newby wasn't too impressed with it, but everyone else had a grand time.
This one was the queen of sand-castle building and running, shrieking, from waves.

This one liked wading into the water, but wasn't keen on falling down in it.

This one liked snoozing on a towel in the warm sand.

And these two were just happy to get the heck out of town. Three screaming youngsters in the back of the car? No problem! No sleep for four nights? Who cares? Bear keeps insisting that the wood stove is a cow that has to be fed bits of grass? Well, okay. Sure. Why not?

Of course, what we (somewhat stupidly) hadn't anticipated was the fact that vacationing with three kids under seven isn't any more relaxing than regular daily life. In fact, it's less relaxing, because you're in a new place, without your usual arsenal of distractions. Still, with a full box of crayons and lots of scrap paper, three well-chosen videos that both Bear and Miss B could enjoy (just ask me how many times we listened to Chicken Soup with Rice...), a soccer ball and an unflyable kite we managed to keep everyone occupied. Hubby C and I didn't get to spend much time snuggling in front of the fire, or sipping wine on the back deck as the smell of hundreds of old-fashioned white roses floated toward us on an ocean-scented breeze, but we did get to drive around, dreaming of someday owning a bit of land we could farm somewhere out Eastport way, with mature apple trees and access to great amounts of seaweed for mulching. I got to say things like "Stop hitting your sister!" and "We'll be there when we're there!" and "If I have to hear ______ one more time, you're walking back to St. John's!" just like a real grown-up. It's the simple things in life, isn't it?