When You're Standing Over My Coffin

When it comes to baking, I have a very tenuous reputation. I have earned my baking cred recently, but I came into this marriage with lofty ambitions and terrible output. This might or might not have something to do with the fact that my amazing mother taught me to bake with the anti-wisdom, "If you need to measure a cup, just use a mug.  Most mugs are about 1 cup." (Happy Birthday, Mom.)

As the years have passed I have buckled down, purchased official measuring cups, and followed very basic recipes to a tee. The result has been very pleasing - to my husband, to my children, and to yours truly. So much so, that I have developed an increasing infatuation with the idea of developing my own delicious recipes and having my children love them so much that they will brag and swoon after them to their own grandchildren - long after I'm gone.

When they're standing over my coffin they'll be thinking, "We'll miss her smile, her warmth, but most of all we'll miss her killer pumpkin bread."

And I think I've done it, folks. Cue evil laughter.

I started with this recipe:
Allrecipes - Downeast Maine Pumpkin Bread
and it is really, really good.

And then I started tweaking it and after a couple of major modifications - I have refined this humble loaf into something that the kids (and husband!) lust after.

And if you think I will tell my modifications, you, my friend, are insane.

This morning, I lacked the necessary ingredients to make my version - so I had to revert to the original. Josh took one bite and said, "Mmmmmmm. This is good, but it is not yours."

I said (glowing with pride), "That's right! But it's ok?"

And he said, "It's great. But what is in yours that makes it so good?"

My answer, "Secrets."

Not quite done!