A Little Tiny Comfort Food

Like many in America, we’re not eating as much bread as we used to. When The Captain and I were first married in the late ‘90s, a loaf a French bread was a common accompaniment to our weeknight meals. We’re fortunate that we live in the north Bay Area where Model Bakery, Raymond’s Bread, ACME, and other amazing boulangeries are just around the corner or in the next town – therefore, really fresh. However, in the last ten years we’ve taken to buying those delicious loaves only when we have company – or decide to have Shrimp Mosca….

Unless the Captain’s family is over and we serve “Lorna Bread” (garlic bread that ends up blackened in the broiler while we’re distracting Lorna J), we end up with leftovers. (We still devour the Lorna Bread. Hey, people eat blackened fish…) I absolutely hate throwing bread away. Why, you ask, when it’s so easily found? Because a) I love croutons on my salad on occasion and b) when Thanksgiving comes around and I make enough cornbread stuffing to feed an army, one of the flavors/textures I love most is the sourdough mixed in. (I’ll post my Cornbread Stuffing recipe next month.) Bread already cubed and in the freezer saves purchasing and cutting it up all at once, which is tedious and time consuming but not so a little at a time. It only takes a minute or two to cut leftover bread into cubes, throw it in a zipper bag, and toss it in the freezer -- ready and waiting.

The best thing about cubing the bread prior to freezing is that the entire leftover loaf need not be defrosted. You take out only as much you want to use. For instance, last night I had a hankerin’ for some comfort food but knew I needed a salad instead of homemade mac and cheese so I made croutons to scratch the itch. The Captain was working so it was just The Boy and me. I only needed a handful. The chicken was already in the oven when the inspiration hit me so I tossed some cubes in a bowl, drizzled in a bit of melted butter mixed with olive oil, threw in salt, pepper, and Herbes de Provence. After mixing the still frozen bread cubes with the butter/olive oil and herbs, I placed them on a small sheet pan and put them in the oven with the chicken for about 15 minutes at 400°F. Oh, so good, especially still warm from the oven. mmmm

Even better, I made just enough that I don’t have leftovers and am, thus, not tempted to continue snacking on them.

A little insight as to why I began cutting the cubes in advance is that when I started with a whole loaf a couple of Thanksgivings ago, not only was that a monotonous task but I’m not a patient person. Therefore, the cubes began as ½ inch and ended up closer to an inch toward the end of the loaf since I bore easily (I’m a Gemini, whadya want?)… those don’t work as well for either croutons or stuffing – unless you want to stuff your mouth. I was ready to give the rest of the project up to crustini for bruschetta or just dump it in the trash and tell my family to forget about stuffing that year. That would not have gone over well.

While not a big fan of her recipes, I do subscribe to the Rachael Ray method of measurement. I eyeball things. If you’re not comfortable with that, I can try to be a little more specific for you but this really isn’t rocket science. It's also hard to give exact measurements when it depends on how much leftover bread you have. A couple slices or two-thirds of loaf is a big difference.

Crouton Recipe, Shmecipe

Cut some crusty bread into ½ inch cubes (fresh, two or three days old, does

         NOT have to be sourdough (but old hamburger buns do not work...),        

         whatever you have)

Melt some butter (use your best judgment. this isn’t a bread float. How much

         would you put on that much popcorn? use half of that because…)

Mix with about the same amount of olive oil

Salt (go easy) and pepper

Herbs of your choice (I used dried Herbes de Provence because it was within

arm’s reach). Rosemary, thyme, oregano, tarragon, Herbes de Provence, Italian Seasoning, whatever you have on hand.

Toss all ingredients together and place on a sheet pan in a preheated 400°F oven for 10 to 15 minutes.

Something else to try is thinly slicing garlic and gently simmering it in the butter and/or olive oil for just a couple minutes, not giving it time to brown even a little. Remove the garlic and then drizzle over bread before baking… numnum OH! Or you can cheat a little and use powdered garlic.

Oh, Oh, Oh! Or parmesan cheese (when I was a little thing I used to call it Farmer John cheese. Too funny.) added toward the end just to melt it over the bread and get it a little bubbly… oooh, yeeeah. More like parmesan AND garlic butter/olive oil.

Is it any wonder I need to lose a few pounds? Maybe I should get up from the computer and … fold laundry then walk and do some yoga. Off I go!

Canoeing on the Russian River

Canoes at the ready

For the past few years, The Captain has been in charge of organizing all the overnights and camping trips for The Boy’s Cub Scout Pack. Recently, we spent a weekend camping and canoeing in Forestville, CA on the Russian River. If you've read my prior posts, you've deduced that we live in Northern California so this is little more than an hour from home. For years every time we drove to the Sonoma Coast, The Captain mentioned wanting to spend a weekend at a place called Burke’s Canoes. This is where our adventure took place.

The canoe trip itself was really fun. Being that we are a family of three and another family came as a father and son, The Boy and I were paired with them since Burke’s requires at least two adults per canoe. The Captain took a kayak and the rest of the families stayed together in their threes and fours. It was decided that next time we will split up all the couples since our canoe had no marital strife considering there was no marriage… It also happens that not only did I have a great partner but I take instruction well and don’t like conflict, especially when my child’s life may be at stake.

Regarding Burke’s Canoes, I offer the following: if you are older than your mid-twenties, like your sleep, and/or have children, do not camp there. Do a day trip or camp elsewhere and use their canoes but, I repeat, do not camp there. The first of the two nights was ridiculously loud until about 2:30 am. Not by any of our lot, who went to bed around 10:00 pm knowing we had a long day ahead, but from the younger set who brought the entire frat along for the ride. The more they drank, the louder they became. (I was in college once upon a time, I remember.) The next morning my friend Laura said she’d slept just fine and then produced her earplugs. In hindsight, the camp manager told us this was the case but did so in some hippy code to which we didn’t have the key. He simply said that if it got too loud we should “bang hard on John’s door (the trailer in the middle of the campground) but make sure you bang hard cuz he’s a deep sleeper.” Yeah. We’re going to walk up through all the loud people and complain because that’s a good idea. No one ever said. Our mistake was making the assumption that there was 10:00 pm curfew/quiet time enforced. Well, we all know what happens when we ASSume. J (sorry, Mom and Auntie Sharon.)

Part of campsites... the dusty part.

Beyond that and more importantly, the children were not really welcome at Burke’s. In fact, ours were the ONLY children there. First the kids wanted to play right in front of our campsites. However, there is so much dust at Burke’s that we had to ask them not to run and kick it up because we were cooking and did they want grit in their food? They went to play near the water but that wasn’t okay with Burke’s management. So they moved up closer to the canoes (which we kept them from climbing on and around). The management asked the kids not to play there so they moved further up to play on the hill. But that wasn’t okay either because it was “too close to the road” (aka the office) that ran around the campsites but not more than two cars moved around it and did so slowly because the management kept yelling at them to slow down. Eventually, after realizing they had left the children nowhere to play, the water became okay again.

Despite all this, the trip included a tolerant and fun group of people: two families we know well and four others with whom we were only acquainted. As I’ve said in previous posts, it never ceases to amaze me the quality of families who are involved in Scouts. Over the weekend we found that we really enjoyed hanging out with all these folks who come from all walks of life.

I mention the following only because The Captain deserves the credit for so much more than making a few phone calls. This is also the last overnight The Captain will be overseeing as The Boy will be Bridging to Boy Scouts this February. As well as making all the reservations, The Captain also prepares all the food for the weekend camping trips (actually, I was allowed to make a few things for breakfast one day but that is unusual J). He doesn’t have to do this but he has a powerful need to take care of people by making sure they are well fed. It runs in his family. He’s a great cook so there are no complaints. Our camping fare is much simpler than what we would serve at home but it’s comforting and tasty, nonetheless.

Last Friday night at our first official Pack Meeting of the year, I found myself in a circle with many of the other parents who attended the canoeing weekend. I can personally attest to the importance of team building. This adventure definitely made the Den Leaders and Officers present more cohesive and better invested in one another’s kids. Overall, I think this will help us all create the nurturing atmosphere our boys need to have yet another successful year.

It’s a great day for Scouting!

Ritter-Done Camping Co. presents: RitterFest 2012

Niece Jessica's artwork on a wine barrel
(hey, RitterFest may not take place in Napa Valley but
we have to take a little bit of Napa Valley with us. )
Her work is available on Facebook at Mundy Creations

The Captain’s annual family reunion is lovingly referred to as RitterFest. For many years The Captain’s sister took her immediate family on an annual weekend trek to Yosemite. Eventually, her kids started bringing friends then girl/boyfriends then spouses. Needless to say, none too soon after the spouses arrived, so did babies; thus, putting a temporary end to their annual excursion.

The Boy jumping off the rock. Last year and the year
before they were jumping off the big one...

As happens in many families, a whole crop of babies arrived at once. When the oldest three were about age two, we couldn’t restrain ourselves any longer and decided to find a family-friendly campsite to introduce the wee ones to our love of the great outdoors. At the time The Captain and I owned a mostly unimproved piece of creek front property in our beloved Trinity Alps and wanted to host everyone there. The Captain spent an exhausting week attempting to carve a large enough space for all the tents out of the tall grass on the terraced hillside. A bit defeated, he admitted he just didn’t feel he could do enough to make it right. So... 

Our first RitterFest was spent up the road at Trinity Lake. We numbered about twenty including three teeny weenies. The next year we went to Calaveras Big Trees and found Beaver Creek; we numbered about twenty-five. The following year we were in Mendocino County. Then my mother-in-law offered her “back forty” which is about half an hour from our place in Trinity County. It offered a fabulous creek deep enough to swim in, plenty of room for tents, and showers at her house a quarter mile up the road. Most of all, not only was it free, it was private. This is important because we are loud -- very, very loud. How could we say no?

Guinness with Canyon and his 5 gallon water bottle

 The Captain enjoying Ritterbrau

That was in 2007. The family has since improved my mum-in-law’s property with a bathroom, an outdoor kitchen sink and counter top, and several other smaller bits and pieces. A trail to the creek was blazed so we no longer have to repel the canyon to get to it from the campsite. Since then our numbers have grown to about forty humans and seven dogs (helping keep the bears and mountain lions away) with an additional ten local family for Saturday dinner.

Wonder who they're aiming for... probably Uncle Captain

Not only have our numbers grown, our weekend has gotten longer. We used to leave home Friday morning and return Sunday evening with some of us working a full day Friday and not arriving until late. Over the years we’ve had some good natured competition to see who can get there first with this year’s winner being Brother James and Jackie who arrived Tuesday near midnight and all but one family coming Wednesday by early afternoon. We still don’t leave until Sunday after one last dip in the creek.

Sisters-in-law waiting for our Cabana Boys 

Our active family loves spending time in the creek, which is snowmelt and, therefore, COLD. But the mountain air in late July is HOT so the contrast is welcome. Whether you’re lounging on a raft, jumping off the rock, snorkeling, throwing rocks over the dam, or just sitting on the bank with your toes in the water catching up, everyone is having fun in the creek from around 10:00 am until dinner. This year while floating around, Sis-in-law and I discovered we had Cabana Boys in the guise of husbands who willingly went up to get us drinks (happy wife, happy life! J). …I’ll be storing that tidbit away for future reference.

Saturday dinner

The only two shared meals are Saturday dinner and Sunday breakfast. The menus for these are family favorites. Dinner is The Captain’s smoked and BBQ’d ribs, Sister Jeri’s beans and cornbread (or Orb Bread. haha, family joke), Niece Rachel’s green salad (using Jeri’s homegrown lettuces), Brother James and Jackie’s pasta salad, Steve's guacamole, and Mum Wendy’s desserts. Sunday breakfast is The Captain’s biscuits, Sister Lorna’s gravy, Brother-in-law Jim’s egg scramble, and Sister Jeri’s Jeri-Deli Blackberry Jelly.

We engage in other activities than eating such as crafts for the kids, cards and other table games, and giving the kids rides on Uncle James’ dirt bike. At the end of the road there is a beautiful hike to the Falls which we do one morning before it gets too hot. The surroundings are beautiful. This part of the canyon is almost completely unspoiled since the gold mining days 150 years ago. In fact, something the kids love is discovering the occasional artifact from days gone by. This year The Boy found a rusted railroad spike and wanted to know if we could look for antique finger prints. Too cute. 

Brother Eric is an accomplished, self-taught guitar player. Most years he and I start six months in advance working on which song(s) we are going to perform and which others we are going to lead for group singing. Over the years we have accumulated a popular playlist. However, this year, Brother Eric was not available to practice due to work, etc. and, in fact, wasn’t able to attend RitterFest. He was sorely missed by everyone all day but especially while we were sitting around the campfire. The Eagles Greatest Hits playing repeatedly on a car stereo had to suffice. Not quite the same.

We start planning next year’s event while we’re still at this year’s. The date is set in January and everyone asks for the time off from work right away. Brother Eric and I usually start practicing songs shortly thereafter. The Captain begins the Ritterbrau (his homebrew) four to six months in advance so it’s perfect for the event. Soon he’ll also be redesigning and building a larger “Ref-Ritter-ator” (self-contained, fully-insulated, non-electric, portable kegerator that will hold a fifteen gallon keg since ten gallons was not enough). Nephew Vas begins work on the logo in June so Sister Lorna can order the T-shirts. Sister Jeri makes enough jelly to feed us all and send some home. Adult and wee Ritters look forward to RitterFest all year long. 

If you’re interested in being invited, Brother Eric is single, early 40s and cute. You’ll have to marry him first. J