Halloween week. I bought candy — miniature Snickers, as always, because tradition, because Paul loved them, because the bag will sit by the door and no trick-or-treaters will come (COVID, the neighborhood is quiet) and I'll eat the Snickers myself in November and Paul would approve.
The church had a small autumn gathering — outdoor, masked, distanced, the pandemic version of community. I brought cinnamon rolls — thirty, fewer than the rummage sale batches, but warm and fragrant and people ate them standing six feet apart in the parking lot and the eating-apart was better than the not-eating-together that the last seven months have been.
Else, the candle-maker, said, "These are the best cinnamon rolls in Duluth." I said, "They're Mamma's recipe." She said, "They're yours now." They're mine now. The cinnamon rolls, like the meatballs, like the bread, like everything I cook — they started as Mamma's and they're mine now. The transition is complete. The student has become the teacher. The daughter has become the cook.
Paul's headstone was installed this week. I went to Park Hill Cemetery on Saturday. Erik drove me. The stone is gray granite, simple, the way Paul would have wanted: PAUL ERIK JOHANSSON, 1958-2020, BELOVED HUSBAND, FATHER, TEACHER. Below that, at my request: "The lake is still here."
The lake is still here. His words. From the recording. The words he said about Lake Superior — the thing that doesn't change, the thing that endures, the thing that will be here after all of us. The lake is still here. On his stone. Forever.
I stood at the grave and I looked at the stone and I said, "It's a good stone, Paul." Erik stood beside me and said nothing. Then he said, "He can see the lake from here." The same thing he said in March. The same observation. The same Erik.
I came home and I made meatballs. Not because I was hungry. Not because anyone asked. Because the making of the meatballs in this kitchen after visiting Paul's headstone felt necessary — the connection between the grave and the kitchen, between the dead and the living, between the stone that says his name and the food that carries his taste.
The meatballs were perfect. The ginger. The secret. The recipe on the wall.
The headstone is set. The meatballs are made. The lake is still here.
All three of those things are permanent.
The cinnamon rolls went to the parking lot. But after Erik drove me home from Park Hill, after the headstone and the granite and “the lake is still here” carved into gray stone forever, I wanted something quieter to bake — something that smelled like autumn and didn’t require quite so much of me. These butternut squash muffins are what I turn to when I need my hands in something warm and the oven doing its steady, faithful work. They’re Mamma’s spirit without being Mamma’s recipe — which is to say, they’re mine now too.
Healthy Butternut Squash Muffins
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 22 min | Total Time: 37 min | Servings: 12 muffins
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour (or white whole wheat flour)
- 1 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
- 1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
- 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
- 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
- 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
- 1 1/2 cups roasted and pureed butternut squash (or canned pumpkin)
- 1/3 cup pure maple syrup or honey
- 1/4 cup melted coconut oil or neutral oil
- 2 large eggs, at room temperature
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1/2 cup plain Greek yogurt or kefir
- 1/2 cup chopped walnuts or pecans (optional)
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Line a standard 12-cup muffin tin with paper liners or grease each cup well.
- Whisk the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, and salt until evenly combined.
- Mix the wet ingredients. In a separate medium bowl, whisk together the butternut squash puree, maple syrup, melted oil, eggs, vanilla, and Greek yogurt until smooth and uniform.
- Combine. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and fold gently with a rubber spatula until just combined — do not overmix. A few small lumps are fine. Fold in the nuts if using.
- Fill the tin. Divide the batter evenly among the 12 muffin cups, filling each about 3/4 full.
- Bake. Bake for 20–22 minutes, until the tops are set and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean or with just a few moist crumbs.
- Cool. Let the muffins cool in the pan for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack. Best eaten warm, wrapped in a kitchen towel, standing anywhere people need feeding.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 178 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 23g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 148mg
About the cook who shared this
Linda Johansson
Week 240 of Linda’s 30-year story
· Duluth, Minnesota
Linda is a sixty-three-year-old retired nurse from Duluth, Minnesota, living alone in the house where she raised her children and said goodbye to her husband. She lost Paul to ALS in 2020 after two years of watching the kindest man she'd ever known lose everything but his dignity. She cooks Scandinavian comfort food and Minnesota hotdish and the pot roast Paul loved, and she sets two places at the table out of habit because it makes her feel less alone. Every recipe she writes is a person she's loved.