At diners, in supermarkets, the English muffin would arrive, ready-made, and I never thought much about it, excepting that it must be a difficult thing, to make an English muffin. Possibly requiring specialist equipment. Mysterious. A very different muffin from the handmade sort I grew up with, certainly, one that slotted effortlessly into a toaster. It wasn’t until I actually made them this weekend with my little girls, and our English friend, that it dawned on me. Allow me to show you.
We took the very same recipe that we use for pizza dough and flatbreads and breadsticks, since we had lots of it, and we formed it into little rounds. Small hands are excellent at this part. You’re meant to pat them flat, but I forgot that bit.
Laid them out on a floured woodblock, covered to keep out air, and left by the wood stove to rise til double in size. We just couldn’t wait that long and got started after a half hour. The dough had risen plenty, having been made the day before, so nothing to worry about.
We heated a pan to a steady medium heat on the hob, and settled a few rounds in for a minute.
And flipped them, and kept flipping them, every now and then for a dozen minutes, to cook them evenly on each side. All of a sudden they looked just like English muffins! Oh! They’re flipped back and forth, cooked in a dry pan! Thus the flatness, the scone-like cracks! What do you know.
Best of all, they are magical with a pat of butter and a spoonful of homemade marmalade.