Bun Bun and Miss T with sourdough teddy.

So here’s the deal.  I got out of town with the girls as a last hurrah before school starts next week.  We’re in San Francisco for a few days in a hotel without a kitchen (thankfully) so I can’t cook.  Whatever these children eat, it’s gotta come from someone else’s kitchen, and that includes those stainless steel rotisserie rods that cook the hot dogs at 7-11.  Puts a kink in my weekly Thursday recipes, but I can’t just let a week go by without talking about some culinary delight, so here’s what I have to offer: go out and get yourself a loaf of sourdough.

There are a lot of reasons to visit San Francisco.  It oozes charm, with the sounds and smells of the big city that it is.  It also has sourdough bread.  The Boudin Bakery at Fisherman’s Wharf was our first stop before we even checked into our hotel.  Bun Bun is preoccupied with dough that is sour, and we’re all happy to accommodate her.  We picked up two loaves, one shaped like a teddy bear, the other a one pound round.  After requesting several pats of their salted butter and a couple of plastic knives, we sat down and started our San Fran ritual of devouring the bread right there on the spot.  They serve Peet’s coffee, so naturally I got a half-caff with room.  Had the city been shrouded in fog like it’s normally been this summer (and every summer, fall, winter and spring), and not the freakishly warm 84°, the moment would have been perfect.  As it was, we poked and pulled at our crispy-on-the-outside, squishy-on-the-inside masterpieces, and had little to complain about.  San Francisco sourdough, for us, is the be all and end all in the manna realm.

I’ll admit I’ve never made a “real” bread – one that includes a starter, the nurturing of the dough, the rising, the fancy baking methods.  But like the tomato plants I finally have growing in my backyard in my attempt to turn my black thumb green, I’d like to make a go at it someday.  If Boudin Bakery was around the corner from my house, maybe I wouldn’t bother, but it’s not.  Sometime in the next six months, I hope to take you all on my journey through the baking of a sourdough loaf.  You heard it here.

In the meantime, you can Google “sourdough starter” and find entire websites and blogs devoted to this type of bread.  A man by the name of Joe Jaworski obviously spent a lot of time putting his recipe together, and his name is Joe, so I’m sending you to his site if you just have to try baking your own.  Or if not, Boudin ships for a tidy sum.  You can also head to your grocery store, buy a loaf, toast it, slather it with salted butter and see how that works out.  You won’t be sorry.

Today, I felt like a berry cobbler or an apple crisp.  Yesterday, I simply felt like the burdened mother of three children who can’t stop annoying each other.  The day before that, I was a flea catching dog owner.  My life is fascinating day after day, and purposeful.

After Miss T’s first soccer practice was over this evening and I threw some dinner on the table for everyone, I set about making this.  Sadly, the girls were in bed before it came out of the oven.  Happily, I got to taste it first.

A few things I would change now after having made it: I would increase the amount of butter added to the crumble part so it wasn’t so, well, crumbly.  And I’d up the amount of ginger I put in, because I didn’t taste it at all in this version.  I’ve already adjusted it here, so make this and tell me what you think.  It’s a berry crisp with vanilla ice cream on top.  What’s not to like?

Basic, Tasty Berry Crisp

1 lb. mixed berries (I bought a bag of frozen at Trader Joe’s and thawed it)

1 T. sugar

1 cup whole wheat flour (‘cause I’m trying to be healthy)

1 cup rolled oats

¾ cup brown sugar

½ t. cinnamon

½ t. ground ginger

¼ t. ground nutmeg

1 cup butter

Preheat oven to 350°.  Mix berries and sugar in a bowl.  In a separate bowl, mix together flour, rolled oats, brown sugar, cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg.  Cube the butter and cut it into the flour mixture until well combined.  Lightly butter an 8×8 baking dish.  Press half of the flour/oats mixture into the bottom of the dish.  Pour the berries over this and spread.  Sprinkle the rest of the flour mixture over the top.  Bake for approximately 35-40 minutes or until the crumble is golden brown on top.  Serve warm with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream.

I could’ve finished the whole dish tonight but my jeans don’t fit as it is so…

Doesn't that look good?

Just wait.  I’ll explain.

Remember my article on Monday (how could you not?) explaining that it’s important to feed your children promptly or they’ll pull your fingernails out one by one?  Last fall, I had three children playing soccer for a total of five practices during the week.  At the beginning of the season, the girls would get in the car when practice was over and tell me how hungry they were.  I’d gently inform them we’d be home in fifteen minutes and I’d get dinner together.  An hour later, usually around 7:30pm, they were at the table eating almost nothing because immediately upon returning back to the house, following a very unpleasant car ride, they’d raid the refrigerator and the pantry.  There are only so many snacks a parent can keep on hand that are truly healthy, so occasionally, I’d catch Miss T polishing off a bag of potato chips followed by two heaping spoonfuls of peanut butter and then innocently tell me she wasn’t hungry when I put a plate in front of her.

After too many evenings of post-soccer hunger pangs and tears, I realized I needed a plan.  I was too cheap to stop and pick up something on the way home – although we did occasionally sneak in a pepperoni pizza – so I decided to make the crock pot my very dearest friend.  Occasionally, I had success.

This year, I’m head coaching one team while assistant coaching another.  If that makes me a soccer mom, so be it.  Needless to say, I better have my $#*! together or my children could possibly revolt and eat me for dinner like so many piranhas.

Miss T had her first practice tonight and damn if I wasn’t going to be ready.  I realize a slow-cooked pot roast is a cold weather meal and it’s August, but a slow cooker doesn’t heat up the house.  You put stuff in it, you come back in eight to ten hours, and dinner is done.  I love my crock-pot so much I gave it a name.  Betty and I are very tight.

I’m not an expert on slow cooking…yet.  I’m still in the toddler stage, learning how to walk, but as I find success, I’ll share it.  It’s what Betty wants.

On a cold night, I’d serve this over mashed potatoes with broccoli on the side.  I’d also add carrots and potatoes half way through the cooking time, but I forgot.  Tonight, I served it with an arugula salad and garlic bread.

Jo’s Crock-Pot Soccer Pot Roast (serves 6 without second helpings)

1 ½ lb. beef chuck shoulder pot roast, boneless (mine was actually 1.65 lbs.)

1 T. Worcestershire

1 T. soy sauce

2 T. olive oil

¼ cup red wine

½ packet of onion soup/dip mix

I like browning my meat first but it’s not necessary.  If you do, heat up the pan, add 1 T. olive oil, sprinkle the meat with coarse salt and pepper and brown it all over.  Place in the slow cooker.  Add the Worcestershire, soy, 1 T. olive oil and onion soup mix and cover.  Cook on low for 8-10 hours.  Don’t remove the cover while cooking.  Break up the meat in the cooker before serving so it soaks up the sauce.

No snacks tonight after practice and before dinner.  I’m feeling kinda proud.

I saw shrimp on sale at the store the other day and I decided I was in the mood.  I perused several recipes for ideas, combined several, and came up with one I think you’ll enjoy.  Miss T has declared she doesn’t like shrimp, but Goldie and Bun Bun gave it a thumbs up, which I think is good considering they’re kids.

Two things I would change after having eaten this: I bought cooked shrimp (because, again, it was on sale) and I wouldn’t do that again.  When someone you don’t know cooks your shrimp for you and then throws it in a bag, which is then thrown in a freezer, well, do I really need to explain?  I would buy raw (31-40 per lb. count) and sauté them myself in a pan with a little olive oil, garlic salt and pepper.  It takes minutes.  Also, while the hamburger buns were good, I really do like a French roll better.  It’s a little sturdier, a little chewier.  Serve this with some kettle cooked potato chips and fruit salad.  Or you can serve it with peanut M&Ms.  I really don’t care.

Avocado and Herb Shrimp Salad Sandwiches (makes six sandwiches)

1 lb. raw shrimp, 31-40 per lb., deveined and shelled (I usually buy mine frozen at Trader Joe’s)

Garlic salt

1 T. cilantro, finely chopped

1 T. chives, finely chopped

1 T. dill, finely chopped

1 t. garlic, chopped

2 t. lemon juice

1 t. Dijon

1 t. cider vinegar

2 T. olive oil (plus 2 t. for shrimp sauté)

1 T. mayonnaise

a dash of cayenne

salt and pepper to taste

one avocado, chopped

lettuce, for garnish

French rolls

Heat 2 teaspoons olive oil in a skillet over medium-high heat.  Add shrimp.  Shake garlic salt and ground pepper over and cook through, until shrimp is opaque.  Set aside to cool.

In a mixing bowl, combine cilantro, chives, dill, garlic, lemon juice, Dijon, cider vinegar, 2 T. olive oil, mayonnaise and cayenne.  Add salt and plenty of pepper to taste.  Whisk to blend well.

Chop the cooled shrimp and add to the herb mixture.  Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least one hour, and up to eight.  That way, the flavors have time to really get to the know the shrimp.

Fold in the chopped avocado right before serving.  Spoon onto French rolls and garnish with lettuce.

I feel like I’ve been making a lot of recipes with a green hue to them lately.  Perhaps next week, we’ll do blue, or maybe red.

Not too spicy.

The husband was having poker tonight and one of the guys requested my jambalaya.  I thought it was an inappropriate summer meal – hearty, spicy and starchy – but I hate to disappoint friends.  I’m a people pleaser, unless I don’t like you.

I did see the dish as an opportunity to get my “Thursdays in the kitchen” taken care of.  Problem though is that I haven’t used a recipe in awhile – it’s another throw everything in a pot kind of entrée – so I had to pay attention to what I was doing.  That’s not as easy as it sounds.

Like most dishes (except Key lime pie), this one can be made about a thousand different ways.  Some are far better than others, and I’ve experimented over the years to get an overall flavor that doesn’t necessarily taste like a bunch of stuff thrown together in a pot without nary a thought.  I worked with an amazing Louisiana chef while I lived in New York (I was actually waiting tables) and I’ve never quite achieved the bayou essence he was able to bring to life, but he was a professional and I’m not.  Someday, I’ll take cooking classes.  Until then…

If you’re from the South, don’t be mad about the liberties I’ve taken.  It’s my jambalaya and gosh darn it, people like it.

Jo’s Jambalaya

2 T. bacon drippings (surely you have some in your fridge)

1 lb. andouille sausage (there wasn’t any at the store where I went so I bought chorizo – shoot me)

1 cup chopped onions

1 cup chopped green bell pepper

1 cup chopped red bell pepper

3 cloves garlic, chopped

2 cups chicken broth

1 heaping T. Cajun or Creole seasoning

¼ t. cloves

½ t. salt

1 ½ cups long grain rice (I use Uncle Ben’s Converted.  It doesn’t get sticky.)

1 lb. raw, deveined shrimp (31-40 count)

1 T. Old Bay seasoning

green onions, chopped, for garnish

In a Dutch oven or other heavy pot, melt 1 T. bacon drippings and cook the sausage.  Remove from pan.  Add the onions, bell peppers and garlic and sauté until tender.  Add chicken broth, seasoning, cloves, salt and rice.  Bring to a boil.  Reduce heat, cover and simmer for approximately 30 minutes or until rice is cooked.  Slice the sausage and add to the rice mixture.

Peel the shrimp.  In a sauté pan, melt additional tablespoon of bacon drippings.  Add the shrimp and Old Bay seasoning and cook through.  Add to the rice mixture.  Garnish with chopped green onion.

I served this with green beans, also sautéed in bacon fat and sprinkled with Tabasco, salt and pepper – and corn bread on the side.

Kumbaya my Jambalaya.