Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge

Ruth from Makey-Cakey was our March 2013 Daring Bakers’ challenge host. She encouraged us all to get experimental in the kitchen and sneak some hidden veggies into our baking, with surprising and delicious results!

So here's my second challenge for the daring bakers: hidden veggies. Needless to say, I was delighted when the challenge was revealed as it appealed to me on a number of levels (my not-insubstantial mischievous side in particular). It also didn't hurt that I love vegetables to the extent that I am actually *mocked* for my veggie consumption. Well, mock me will you? Revenge shall be mine, this I swear.

The first recipe my mind drifted to was one I occasionally prepare for breakfast: apple lentil carrot muffins. Then I thought further: 1) lentils are not veggies, they're legumes and I was feeling semi-technical/anal retentive about that, and 2) feeding people a dessert with carrots would mean going FAR too easy on my tormentors. Besides, carrots were kind of a gimme in baked goods. Oh no, this was going to require some creativity, because I WAS GOING TO MAKE PEOPLE EAT BROCCOLI AND CAULIFLOWER, AND MAKE THEM LIKE IT, DAMN IT! A quick survey of the literature left me with a paltry couple of recipes (broccoli brownies or cupcakes) that weren't particularly inspiring (or daring). What to do?

I decided to take a basic muffin recipe (kinda hung up on muffins for this one; what can I say? I like muffins, okay?  Oh, and as a total side note: for the sake of honesty, the first attempt I made was with an overly healthy recipe that included things like flax and wheat germ, stuff that I like to eat, and while the danged things tasted fine, they just weren't muffin-y enough to pass muster).

So skip ahead (back?), to the basic muffin recipe wherein I adapted the liquid ingredients to a puree of broccoli and pumpkin, or pureed cauliflower and pumpkin (pumpkin because there was no way in heck I was using oil or butter in my muffins. I have my limits, people). Plus, I figured if there was any kind of offish aroma, I'd chalk it up to pumpkin-funk. Muahahahaha!

Not particularly horrifying: cauliflower puree

Vaguely horrifying: broccoli puree

(Side bar: I love my immersible stick blender which prior to this I had not had opportunity to use. Oh, the possibilities I can see...)

Okay, anyway, so while the cauliflower goo was nicely disguise-able, I recognized that the clever people I worked with might suspect something was up if the muffins were you know, green (and having just missed St. Paddy's day, no less...) What to do....well, cauliflower could proceed as planned: cauliflower pumpkin currant muffins. Broccoli was just going to have to go chocolate (as in broccoli pumpkin chocolate chocolate chip muffins). Brown covers up everything, right?

Oh, yeah, that's even worse. Reminiscent of "The Exorcist," no?
Or maybe Slimer from "Ghostbusters"? Omnomnom.
Snot muffins?

 After mixing, and thanks to the amazing powers of cocoa powder, there was no green weirdness left visible. (The cauliflower batch was a pleasant pumkin-y color, of course). I tossed them in the oven, 400F for 20 loooong minutes. Would they bake properly? Would they smell like a cruciferous nightmare? I could barely stand the suspense. Lo and behold, much to my happiness (and surprise, as I am quite often the pessimist), beautiful muffins with no disturbing farty aroma to give away their dirty little secret:

Cauliflower currant on the left, broccoli chocolate chocolate-chip on the right
(as if the background wasn't an unsubtle hint).

Okay, why does the broccoli chocolate one remind me of  Jack Skellington???

 

A pretty muffin snowflake, OF DOOM. Oh yeah, peeps weren't going to know what hit them!!!
Jack Skellington muffin still smirking on the plate.
Once you've seen it, you can't unsee it.

So, rather long story short: everyone that ate them loved them, raved about how moist (if a bit dense) they were, and not a soul guessed the secret ingredients.
When I revealed the magical veggie contents (post consumption, and after making them guess repeatedly, of course), this is a generalized version of the conversation which followed (also after my victim taste-tester stared at the muffins for a few incredulous moments hunting for broccoli bits):

Them: Are you kidding me? Broccoli? I *hate* broccoli.
Me: Yep. Broccoli.
Them: *In* the muffins?
Me: Yep. Or cauliflower.
Them: Okay, that I can imagine, but broccoli?  I don't see any broccoli.
Me: Oh, it's in there.
Them: Hunh. Well. I think you should definitely make more, and bring them in, you know so we can try them again, in the name of science.
Me: No problem.

So, who's laughing now, BROCCOLI EATERS? Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge!

Post mortem - today's post title is borrowed from a song by my favorite band which has unfortunately chosen to split apart. Though this thrills me not, I understand people have to do what they have to do.
So long and goodnight, darlings. Your memory will carry on!