Lemon slices
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.
Set 12 regular or 24 miniature cupcake liners in a cupcake pan.
In a large mixing bowl, cream the butter and sugar until the color is light, about 2 minutes. Add the sour cream, vanilla extract, and lemon zest, and mix 1 minute.
In a small bowl, beat the egg whites to a froth, about 2 minutes. Add the egg whites to the sugar mixture and mix well until incorporated.
Combine the dry ingredients in a small bowl.
In another small bowl combine the milk, water, and lemon juice.
Add half of the dry ingredients to the butter-egg mixture. Mix well. Then add half of the wet ingredients. Mix well and repeat, stirring until all the ingredients are incorporated. This is a very light, almost foamy cupcake mixture.
Fill cupcake liners about ⅔ full.
Bake mini cupcakes for 13-15 minutes and regular cupcakes for 15-17 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.
For the icing:
In a small bowl, beat the butter until smooth. Add in half of the confectioner’s sugar and mix until smooth. Add 2 tablespoons milk and the vanilla and lavender extracts and beat until smooth. Add the remainder of the confectioner’s sugar. If necessary, add more sugar or the remaining tablespoon of milk. This should not be a runny frosting.
Using a piping bag fitted with a closed star tip, pipe the frosting onto the cooled cupcakes. If desired, decorate with dried lavender petals and a half slice of lemon.
Lemon Cupcakes with Lavender Frosting—Gluten-Free Version
(Yield: 12-18 regular or 24-36 miniature cupcakes)
For the cupcakes:
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
¾ cup sugar
6 tablespoons sour cream
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
3 large egg whites, room temperature
1¼ cup gluten-free flour
2 teaspoons whey powder or flour
½ teaspoon xanthan gum
2 teaspoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
¼ cup milk
1 tablespoon water
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
For the frosting:
1 cup unsalted butter
4 cups powdered sugar, more if needed
2-3 tablespoons milk
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
1¼ teaspoon lavender extract, more if desired
For decoration:
lavender flower petals, dried
lemon slices
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.
Set 12 regular or 24 miniature cupcake liners in a cupcake pan.
In a large mixing bowl, cream the butter and sugar until the color is light, about 2 minutes. Add the sour cream, vanilla extract, and lemon zest, and mix 1 minute.
In a small bowl, beat the egg whites to a froth, about 2 minutes. Add the egg whites to the sugar mixture and mix well until incorporated.
Combine the gluten-free flour, whey powder (which makes gluten-free baked goods more moist), xanthan gum, baking powder, and salt in a small bowl.
In another small bowl combine the milk, water, and lemon juice.
Add half of the dry ingredients to the butter-egg mixture. Mix well. Then add half of the wet ingredients. Mix well and repeat, stirring until all the ingredients are incorporated. This is a very light, almost foamy cupcake mixture.
Fill cupcake liners about ⅔ full.
Bake mini cupcakes for 13-15 minutes and regular cupcakes for 15-17 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.
For the frosting:
In a small bowl, beat the butter until smooth. Add in half of the confectioner’s sugar and mix until smooth. Add 2 tablespoons milk and the vanilla and lavender extracts and beat until smooth. Add the remainder of the confectioner’s sugar. If necessary, add more sugar or the remaining tablespoon of milk. This should not be a runny frosting.
Using a piping bag fitted with a closed star tip, pipe the frosting onto the cooled cupcakes. If desired, decorate with dried lavender petals and a half slice of lemon.
From Courtney:
I love a good, hearty soup. I can make a batch and eat it every night of the week. When I come home and want to work in the garden, an easy meal is the perfect solution. If desired, add chopped chicken to this recipe. It becomes a meal in a pot.
Minestrone Soup
(Yield: serves 8-12)
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup yellow onion, chopped
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 cup celery, chopped
1 cup carrots, peeled and chopped
1 package frozen chopped spinach, thawed and drained
1 package frozen peas
1 16-ounce can red kidney beans
1 pound mushrooms (may omit)
2 16-ounce cans whole peeled tomatoes, crushed
1 16-ounce can tomato puree
5 cans of water, using the puree can for measurement
2 cups chicken broth
½ cup rice, uncooked (may use pasta; if so, add 1 cup dry
pasta, like elbow macaroni)
½ cup chopped parsley
½ teaspoon ground thyme
½ teaspoon dried oregano
2-3 bay leaves
salt and pepper to taste
In a large stockpot, brown garlic and onions in olive oil. Cook for about 3 to 5 minutes.
Add everything else—yes, it’s that easy!—and bring to a boil. Turn to simmer and cook for 2 hours.
From Meaghan:
Brownie is my last name. Therefore, all my life, I’ve been baking brownies. I felt it was my duty to my family and to my friends. I never had the desire to be a professional baker, but I have to admit, my brownies are pretty darned good. Add the semisweet chocolate chips if you like the peanut butter-chocolate combo. If you want to be decadent, use dark chocolate chips.
Peanut Butter Brownies
(Yield: 9-16 brownies)
½ cup peanut butter
⅓ cup butter, softened
⅔ cup granulated sugar
½ cup packed brown sugar
2 eggs
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
⅔ cup semisweet chocolate chips, if desired
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease a 9 x 9-inch baking pan or spray with nonstick cooking spray. Set aside.
In a medium bowl, mix the peanut butter, softened butter, granulated sugar, and brown sugar. Add the eggs and vanilla and stir well.
In a medium bowl, mix the flour with the baking powder and salt. Add the flour mixture to the peanut butter mixture and stir until well combined.
Pour the batter into the prepared pan. You might need your fingers to press down and make it even. Sprinkle the chocolate chips on top, if desired.
Bake in the preheated oven for 30-35 minutes, until a toothpick comes out clean.
From Courtney:
I love scones. Sweet or savory. They’re so satisfying. And they’re quick to make. You can use any of your favorite herbs in this recipe. I like rosemary. These would go beautifully with the minestrone soup. Just saying.
Savory Herb Scones
(Yield: 8 scones)
2 cups flour
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
¾ teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh rosemary
6 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into cubes
¾ cup heavy cream
2 large egg yolks, lightly beaten
For the glaze:
1 large egg, lightly beaten
1 tablespoon milk
½ teaspoon kosher salt for sprinkling
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
In a food processor, whisk together the flo
ur, sugar, baking powder, salt, and rosemary. Add in the butter and pulse until the largest pieces of butter are about the size of peas.
In a small bowl, mix the cream and egg yolks. Add the flour mixture and combine, using your hands to knead the mixture until the ingredients can be gathered into a moist ball. Don’t over knead. The dough is supposed to be sticky.
Set the ball in the center of the parchment paper and pat it gently into a 7-inch round, about 1 inch thick.
With a sharp knife (you might want to wet it), cut the round into eight wedges. Separate them.
Make the glaze by mixing the egg and milk in a small bowl. Brush the tops and sides of the scones with the egg-milk glaze. Sprinkle the scones with salt.
Bake in preheated oven until the scones are a deep golden brown and a toothpick comes out clean, about 18-20 minutes.
Cool the scones on a wire rack for 10 minutes before serving.
From Courtney:
One of my favorite dinners is white fish with beurre blanc sauce. I’ve used lots of different white fish for this recipe. One of my favorites is Chilean sea bass, which is a fish rich in omega-3 unsaturated oils. It’s mild and sort of buttery in flavor, and it won’t toughen up because of the extra oil.
White Fish with Beurre Blanc Sauce
(Yield: serves 4)
olive oil
4 Chilean sea bass filets (or other white fish, about 6 ounces
each)
kosher salt, to taste
black pepper, to taste
¼ cup dry white wine
1½ tablespoons white wine vinegar
1½ tablespoons shallots, minced
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 teaspoon lemon zest
1 tablespoon heavy cream
6 tablespoons butter, cold, cut into small pieces
For the garnish: lemon wedges
Heat oven to 425 degrees F.
Line a 9 x 13-inch baking pan with parchment paper. Brush parchment paper with olive oil. Set the filets on the paper and sprinkle lightly with kosher salt and black pepper. Place the pan in the oven and bake for 15-20 minutes. The fish should be cooked through, not pink.
While the fish is baking, prepare the lemon beurre blanc sauce. In a saucepan, combine the white wine, vinegar, and minced shallots. Bring the mixture to a simmer and cook until reduced by half, about 3 minutes.
Add the lemon juice, zest, and cream. Remove the pan from heat and whisk in a pat of butter. Set the pan back over low heat and continue whisking until the butter has melted. Add remaining pieces of butter until all are incorporated. Taste and add salt and pepper, as needed.
Note: If the sauce is too hot or too cold, it will separate, so keep it warm until serving time.
Arrange the fish on plates with lemon wedges as garnish. Drizzle with the beurre blanc sauce.
Read on for a preview of the next Fairy Garden Mystery from Daryl Wood Gerber
A Glimmer of a Clue
Coming in Summer 2021 from Kensington Publishing Corp.
Chapter 1
Come, fairies, take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind and dance upon the mountains like a flame!
—William Butler Yeats
“That woman is going to be the death of me, Courtney.” Didi Dubois bustled from Open Your Imagination’s main showroom onto the slate patio where I was designing a fairy garden.
I was standing at the rectangular table in the learning-the-craft corner at the far end of the patio creating a fairy garden using a three-foot tall, wide-mouthed blue glazed pot. I loved spending time on the patio, an outdoor garden space with a skylight in its pyramid-shaped roof. Good vibes radiated everywhere.
“I swear her tongue is a dagger and her fingernails are talons,” Didi carried on.
With long strides, she made a beeline past the wrought-iron tables and ornate fountain carved with fairies and gnomes to the verdigris bakers’ racks. Recently, I’d doubled the stock of fairy figurines and fairy equipment and accessories we carried at Open Your Imagination. Customers had been thrilled.
“If she morphed into the tigress that she is,” Didi said, “she would eat me for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” Didi could be quite dramatic. When not working out or playing pickleball, like she obviously had today, judging by her outfit of spandex shorts and tank top, she dressed as dramatically as she came across, in colorful dresses and lacy shawls. “I need to make something that will calm my nerves,” she said loudly.
A few of the customers who were communing near the vines and ficus trees that adorned the patio glanced in Didi’s direction. She was oblivious.
“Any fairies about?” she asked.
The scuttlebutt in Carmel-by-the-Sea was that a number of fairies resided at my fairy garden and teashop. In fact, there was only one—Fiona, a fairy-in-training. I’d come to meet her a little over a year ago when I’d quit my job as a landscaper for my father’s company and dared to open my own business. I’d lost my ability to see fairies after my mother died twenty years ago. Fiona said it was the leap of faith to start something new that had opened my heart to the unimaginable again.
Fiona should have been a full-fledged fairy by now, with three full sets of adult wings, but she’d messed up in fairy school, so the queen fairy had subjected her to probation. Fiona was working her way to earning her wings. As part of the probation, Fiona was not allowed to socialize with other fairies, although she could attend one-on-one classes with a mentor the queen fairy had assigned to her. Because Fiona was classified as a righteous fairy, which meant she needed to bring resolution to embattled souls, she could earn her way back into the queen fairy’s good graces by helping a human. Only last year did I learn that there were classifications of fairies in addition to varieties of fairy types. Classifications included intuitive, guardian, nurturer, and righteous. Types were what most people understood about fairies; there were air fairies, water fairies, and woodland fairies.
“Help, Courtney,” Didi wailed. “I need to rid my mind of these negative thoughts.”
“Sure thing. Pick a pot first,” I suggested.
The size of the planter determined the number of plants and figurines a fairy garden maker would need.
Didi wandered among the many selections the shop offered and stopped beside a hanging pot dressed with moss. “I like this one.”
“Terrific. That’s one of my favorites,” I said. “Next, pick some plants. I like the Pink Splash hypoestes and baby tears, but if you’re going to hang that in hot sun, you might want to consider succulents.”
“What’s that you’re planting?” she asked, circling my work in progress.
“This is a bonsai. To be specific, a dwarf jade.” It was one of the easiest to grow and recommended for beginners.
“I heard you’re making a pot for the Beauty of Art Spectacular,” Didi said.
“Yep. This is it.”
The Spectacular, an annual fundraiser to raise money for community outreach programs in the arts, took place the first Saturday in September—two days from now. Wanda Brownie, the event chairwoman and mother of my best friend, had commissioned the garden that I was making. Because Wanda desperately wanted to meet a fairy, I’d encouraged her to help me. I’d reminded her that working on a garden might open her spiritual portals, but she’d pooh-poohed me. Her loss.
“It’s quite pretty,” Didi said.
“Thank you.” For the theme, I’d decided to create an antique-style cityscape. As a focal point, I’d planted the twelve-inch bonsai at the rear of the pot and was currently creating a walkway to it using glass mirror chips. How they sparkled. “It’s taking a bit—”
Didi was no longer listening. She had moved away and was swaying in a bell-like motion, her beaded salt-and-pepper cornrows swinging as she gathered items: a dancing fairy, a reading fairy, and a miniature pig in a pink tutu. She appeared to be humming. That pleased me. I wanted those who came into my shop to find a sense of peace and wellbeing. Making a fairy garden w
as an imaginative adventure.
She returned to me. “Okay, now what?”
“You’re not very focused,” I joked. To date, Didi had made four gardens. Not once had she needed me to hold her hand.
“Tell me about it.”
“So, who has you wrapped around the axle?” Once a week, Didi and I played pickleball in a league. She was eons better than I was, but then she had been playing ten years longer than I had and worked out constantly at Sport Zone, the athletic club she’d inherited and managed since her husband passed away.
“Who do you think?” She smirked.
“Lana Lamar.”
“Bingo.” Didi rolled her eyes. “That woman thinks she is God’s gift to mankind. Honestly, she has no sense of anyone else. She’s a total narcissist. If only she were happily married like you, maybe she’d settle down.”
“Actually, I’m not married.”
“You’re not? Where did I get that notion?”
“I almost was. Years ago.” The day after our co-ed bridal shower, my fiancé announced he never wanted to be married. Ever. He did. He and his wife had three kids, last I knew.
“I’m sorry. My bad. I should have remembered that.”
“No worries.”
“Well, Lana is married, but not happily. She’ll mess it up like every other relationship she’s had.”
Lana Lamar was an antique and art critic who wrote a column for a number of syndicated newspapers. She’d been married twice prior to marrying Elton, her third husband. They’d lasted fifteen years, so far. Lana believed she was beautiful beyond words. She wasn’t. Nor was she objective and fair-minded, as she liked to claim. In truth, she was hypercritical of everything. Nothing cut the mustard. How did I know her so well? Whenever she wasn’t working, she was at the athletic club using the StairMaster, which happened to be my machine of choice. Side by side, we would step for an hour. Lana was more than happy to talk about herself. The last time I’d run into her, she’d recited her latest review to me: Without a doubt, Betsy Brahn’s work adds up to a big ego trip. The last time I saw a painting as deluded as Miss Brahn’s witless work, I was ten. Seriously, Miss Brahn, have you no one who will say this to you? Stop. Now. Quit painting. Spare us all. Find another career. The harshness of her words had nearly knocked me off my machine. Lana had found it amusing.
A Sprinkling of Murder Page 28