I have a feeling that if we were to go back in time to the early 80’s and eat a muffin, we’d be disappointed. Are you old enough to remember disco era muffins? Let me set the stage. Picture Mom, slim, young and pretty, in her brown plaid, ruffle front shirt, and her swoopy hairdo, apron tied on, (unneeded) weight watchers book in one hand, bottle of liquid sweetener in the other, making muffins. Small, hard, low fat muffins. Raisins added in to compensate for the fact that you had to eat them with a mouthful of milk just to make them go all the way down your throat. Enough bran that even the neighbors would be regular this week. They’d usually sit on the counter for a few days and the ones that Dad didn’t drown in margarine would eventually be donated to the NHL as practice pucks.  Continue reading →