Several cats live in our yard. We did not put them there. They chose this space – though they didn’t choose us, per se. We live in a residential/agricultural community with a lot of cats roaming the fields and acequias. They all look like cousins – because they probably are. And yes, I know all the arguments against having outdoor cats, and I don’t want to get into a debate. But I will say this: Jerry has ensured that “our” cats are all “fixed.” There’s a catch-and-release program that does the job for free, so long as the cat is released back into the “wild,” a.k.a., the neighborhood. All in all, Jerry put 14 cats through that program, and most bolted as soon as the cage was opened, never to be seen in this yard again. But three stayed: Darth (dark gray, fluffy, kinda cranky), Fluffer (orange, exceedingly fluffy, kinda spacey), and Snow Leopard (spotted, short-haired, terribly neurotic).
We can’t touch these cats. They will NOT come inside (though we have tried and tried). They occupy our yard, we feed them, and we have something of a symbiotic relationship: since their arrival, we’ve had no problems with mice. (After the first winter we spent in Asia, we returned to a serious mouse problem and had to disinfect everything we owned, for fear of hantavirus.)
And so it went for a few years, until last year, another cat appeared in the far back of the yard. For months, he kept a distance from us and the other cats, though he accepted food and water. We could tell he’d already been through the “fixing” program, as part of an ear was clipped. And over time, he came nearer. He talked to us. He started rubbing our ankles. And it soon became clear that he had experienced human affection in a previous life.
Let’s just say our relationship has evolved, and that cat is now a dear friend. He follows us all over the yard, eager for hugs and scratching, and the companionship of bipedal creatures. But for some time, he still didn’t have a name – and that had to change.
Now, know this: Jerry bakes. He bakes bread, he bakes biscuits, and he bakes muffins… and our breakfasts often consist of these baked goods with fruit and yogurt.
So one morning, we decided to name this creature, a lovable, talkative kitty-cat with a deep, thick coat of black-and-white fur (soft like a muffin) but a body beneath that’s all beefy muscle (sturdy like a biscuit) the only name that perfectly fit: Biscuit Muffin.
And here he is:
And here’s Jerry’s gluten-free, COVID-free pandemic recipe:
1 cup almond flour
3/4 cup corn flour (fine grind)
1/3 cup rice flour
3/4 cup gram (a.k.a chickpea) flour
1/3 cup brown rice flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoon melted butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 cup milk
Whisk all dry ingredients together thoroughly.
Whisk all wet ingredients together thoroughly (butter might congeal and clump a bit – don’t worry about it).
Add wet ingredients to dry and quickly whisk until smooth-ish (it will be pretty stiff – can add some warm water if it’s too thick to whisk).
Plop big spoonfuls into pre-greased muffin tin. Don’t top up the spaces, the dough will rise. Cook for 25-30 minutes at 385° F. Let cool in pan for a bit. The muffins should then pop out with little difficulty.
Notes: You can find the flours at an Indian market. Because of that, the corn flour here is a fine grind. Coarser, American-style grinds will end up crunchy in this. Which you may like. You can also pre-soak coarse corn flour in a bit of just-boiled water for 15 minutes or so. Use only enough water to soak the flour. You may then want to decrease the milk &/or increase the cooking time by a bit or the biscuit muffins may end up soggy.