“Princess, you haven’t eaten fruits or vegetables all day. It’s very important for your health that you eat vegetables and fruits—a rainbow of color that covers half your plate at every meal.”
She thought about that for a moment then said, “But Grandma, the other half of the plate can be brown, right?”
It was very hard to keep a straight face, but I continued, “Yes, but some of the brown needs to be meat, bread, beans, or nuts. Now can we have some cucumber slices or celery trees with humus just to last until dinner?”
She sighed deeply and said, “Okay.” I put a sandy beach of humus on her plate and planted some palm celery trees around it. She ate most of it. That’s when I decided we would make some chocolate zucchini muffins and hide some vegetables in her favorite food—chocolate.
First we began with the following ingredients:
2 cups of sugar
¾ cup of canola oil
The princess beat the eggs and sugar and then added the oil a few spoons at a time until the ingredients were thoroughly blended.
Next we measured and mixed the dry ingredients:
2 cups flour
¾ cups cocoa
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon baking powder
Then I combined the contents of both bowls and added 1 cup of dark chocolate chips while the princess lined the 12 muffin cups with paper liners. She was happy as she snacked on the chocolate chips—two for the bowl and one for the mouth. Then I took out the grater and two glossy green zucchini which I began grating into a bowl.
Eying me suspiciously the princess stopped chewing the chocolate and said, “Grandma, what are you doing with that zucchini?”
I continued to grate listening to the life-blood of the squash swishing through the tiny blades. “I’m going to put two cups of this living rainbow green vegetable into the muffin batter to keep you healthy and strong.”
“No-o-o-o, Grandma! Don’t do it. You’re going to ruin my muffins,” she said as she sprang from the stepladder and left me to finish the detestable task of spoiling a perfectly delicious chocolate dessert.
Ignoring her, I mixed the two cups of grated zucchini into the batter watching the green disappear. She writhed on the floor and mumbled that mixing vegetables and sweets wouldn’t work.
“Look, Sweetie Pie, the zucchini disappeared,” I said and scooped half the dark chocolate batter into the muffin tins and the rest into a greased loaf pan.
“But the zucchini is still there even if you can’t see it—right Grandma?”
“That’s right,” I said and placed the pans in the oven preheated to 350 degrees. The loaf had to remain in the oven for about 55 minutes until set, but the muffins were ready in about 25 minutes.
I removed the muffins from the oven as the warm chocolate fragrance wafted through the air—my mouth watered. I took the muffins from the pan and placed them on a wire rack to cool more quickly. Within five minutes I tore the paper from one and bit into the moist richness. “Um-m-m, better than a brownie, I said. “Delicious!” I held out my arm with the half eaten muffin, closed my eyes and tilted my face to heaven and inhaled.
The princess grabbed the muffin and took a bite, “Oh, Grandma, you’re right. I can’t see the zucchini or taste it. It’s magic! Can I have another one?
Yes, Stealthy Granny strikes again!