Let Me Tell You About These Muffins (No, Really)

Look, if you’re anything like me, you’ve tried to make vegan blueberry muffins that tasted… well, like a good idea with mediocre follow-through. But my first proper batch (made after a disastrous attempt with gummy middles and blue smudges everywhere) won over both my skeptical partner and my neighbor’s kid, who is basically a muffin authority. There was even a moment when I considered hiding the last two, but I promise I didn’t. Actually I did, but just for an hour. Hey, a home baker’s gotta do what a home baker’s gotta do.

Why I Keep Baking These (And Maybe You Will Too)

I whip up these blueberry muffins anytime quick breakfast treats are needed or when someone texts that they’re “just dropping by” (which is never actually just dropping by, is it?). My family inhales them before they’ve fully cooled—except my uncle Steve, who claims blueberries are weird (he’s wrong, but there’s no convincing him). The real magic? No fancy ingredients, no dairy, barely any hassle (unless you drop your flour bag everywhere, as I did once).

Also, no eggs to crack—so less mess. Oh, and if you think vegan stuff always means dry or bland, these’ll change your mind. Not to brag, but they’ve become my ‘oh no, I forgot it was my turn to bring snacks’ savior more than once. Actually, way more times than I’d admit out loud.

Ingredients (With My Personal Swaps & Shortcuts)

2 cups plain flour (all-purpose; my gran says sifted is best, but I just shake in straight form the bag and live dangerously)
3/4 cup sugar (any type works; I sometimes toss in coconut sugar for a deeper taste, doesn’t change much)
2 tsp baking powder (I’ve used 1 tsp baking soda with a splash of lemon in a pinch but, honestly, just stick with powder if you can)
1/2 tsp salt (sea salt or table salt – whatever’s in arm’s reach)
1 cup non-dairy milk (soy is legit, but almond or oat milk is fine too; once I tried rice milk, it was a bit odd, so maybe not that)
1/3 cup neutral oil (canola, sunflower, or in a crisis, melted coconut works, though it does give a coconutty vibe)
1 tbsp apple cider vinegar (or white vinegar, I honestly can never tell the difference in muffins)
1½ tsp vanilla extract (the artificial stuff works, but the real deal tastes fancier)
1½ cups fresh blueberries (I almost always use frozen—don’t even bother thawing, just give them a quick rinse if they’re super icy)
Optional: Zest form half a lemon for a little zing, or swap ¼ cup blueberries for raspberries if you’re daring

How I Make Them (And Little Moments of Chaos)

Preheat your oven to 375° F (or about 190° C) and line or lightly grease a muffin tin. If you forgot the liners, a well-oiled tin is fine; been there, done that.
In a big mixing bowl, whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Sometimes I skip the whisk and just mix it up with a fork—no one’s judging.
In another bowl (or honestly, a big mug if you don’t want more dishes), combine the nondairy milk, oil, vinegar, and vanilla. Mix well, then let it sit a sec—vinegar works its magic (don’t ask me how; science and I aren’t close friends).
Pour the wet stuff into the dry. Stir gently with a spatula or wooden spoon. It’s always a bit lumpy; don’t panic. This is where I sneak a taste. (I know, no eggs, so it’s all good.)
Fold in your blueberries without overmixing, unless you want purple muffins (which, to be fair, my cousin thinks looks cool). And if you’ve added frozen berries, expect the batter to get thick. Oddly satisfying, in my opinion.
Spoon batter into your muffin tin. I usually fill just above halfway, but sometimes I get distracted and overfill a couple—no disasters yet, just bigger tops!
Bake for 21-24 minutes, until the tops are just golden and a toothpick (or skewer, or that one spaghetti noodle you always have lying around) comes out mostly clean.
Let cool for at least 10 minutes, assuming you can wait. Kids will probably be circling, waiting to pounce.

A Few Notes (Pulled Straight from My Big Book of Mistakes)

If you use frozen blueberries, toss them in a teaspoon of flour first. Supposedly keeps them from sinking, but, honestly, I forget half the time, and it still works.
Try not to overbake—one time I did, and they ended up as muffin-shaped hockey pucks. Not ideal.
If your muffins stick, run a knife around the edges. Or, just admit defeat and eat them straight from the pan (no shame).

Variations I’ve Actually Tried (Plus One Dud)

Lemon zest: Sometimes I toss in extra for a bigger citrus kick, but once I tried orange zest, and it kind of clashed.
Chia seeds: A spoonful stirred in adds crunch and makes me feel like I’m being healthy (even if I then eat three muffins in one go).
Walnuts: These are good, but my sister said it made them taste like health food, so take that as you will.
Chocolate chips: Melted a little into the batter, honestly, it’s sinful. In a good way.
Side note: Tried using mashed banana instead of oil once (was feeling wild)—but it made things weirdly dense, so I wouldn’t go there again.

Gear You’ll Need (ish…)

Basic muffin tin (12-cup; but I’ve used a silicone tray and even ramekins, just keep an eye on the timing)
Mixing bowls (two if you’re tidy, one if you’re a rebel)
Big spoon or spatula (fork also works; just don’t lose it in the batter like me)
Whisk (optional; I usually use a fork in a pinch, no biggy)

How to Store (But Seriously, Good Luck)

They’ll keep in an airtight container at room temp for 2-3 days, or you can freeze them (if your willpower is better than mine). But, honestly, in my house they vanish in, like, 24 hours—sometimes less if my partner’s had a rough week.

Here’s How I Serve These Muffins

Mornings: Toasted with a spread of vegan butter and a cup of seriously strong coffee. My dad likes them with peanut butter, which sounds odd but totally works. If it’s Sunday brunch, I stack them sky-high on a platter and sprinkle a bit of extra lemon zest on top—family tradition, sort of.

What I’ve Learned (aka. Pro Tips from the Trenches)

Don’t rush mixing—even though it feels like you should. I once overmixed and ended up with chewy muffins. Not great, trust me.
Let the batter rest for a couple minutes before scooping—makes a difference in how fluffy they get, oddly enough.
Adding blueberries last is messy, but if you mix them in earlier, you’ll get blue batter. Unless you want blue batter (I do sometimes!), add them right at the end.
If you want to see a socalled “muffin top,” generously fill your muffin cups. One time I got lazy and only filled them halfway, ended up with stubby muffins that my niece called “muffin stumps.” Thanks, kid.

FAQ (Stuff People Keep Asking Me, So Here You Go)

Can I use other berries? Yup! Raspberries or blackberries work, though they can get a bit mushier. Strawberry chunks are tasty, too, but chop ’em small.
Can I make these gluten-free? Actually, you can try! Substitute with a 1:1 gluten-free flour blend; they might come out a bit crumblier, but still tasty.
Why didn’t my muffins rise? Probably old baking powder (yep, it goes off). Or, you might have overmixed. Been there!
Can I make them oil-free? Sort of. Unsweetened applesauce works, but the texture gets pretty dense (in my experience). If you figure out a better swap, email me!
Can I double the recipe? Oh yes! But maybe use two muffin tins so you don’t have monster muffins (unless that’s your vibe).

Oh, and if you want more vegan baking inspiration, check out Rainbow Plant Life’s baking section; I learned a trick or two there. Or, if you need a non-dairy milk explainer, Minimalist Baker’s guide is a goldmine.

Alright, guess that’s it—except, actually, if you make these, let me know how they turned out. Or just tag me next time you bake them up for a lazy Sunday; that’s what I’ve been doing lately, anyway.