HAPPY MEMORIES OF A BEER BREAD RECIPE
Sometimes recalling how a recipe was acquired is more than a bit nostalgic and makes for great light chatter, as well. This Beer Bread recipe is one of those.
New Orleans was a great city for a whirlwind three day vacation with friends. We were living proof of that. We had taken a river boat cruise, eaten our weight in oysters on the half shell, gone crazy over a jazz combo in a Bourbon Street bar and ended up in a night club drinking Bandy Alexanders and watching some scantily clad show girls. We had inhaled the powdery sweet goodness of warm, puffy beignets at Cafe Dumond, bought the souvenir mugs and quaffed enough chicory/coffee to float a battle ship. We’d made a valiant effort to try every famous dish that New Orleans had to offer - even sharing bites we just couldn’t do it. We were mellow, we were stuffed and much too quickly it was time to leave.
Granted, three days was not long enough but for Ed and me New Orleans was just a brief pleasurable interlude on our way to Galveston, Texas. It was, for Ed, a trip back in time to a place where he had flown B-24’s during World War II. We drove leisurely out of New Orleans, enjoying the country side, visiting a majestic aging plantation house - Visitors Welcome - and stopping long enough for an amazing southern lunch along the way that undoubtedly added an instant five pounds. The weather forecast was for intermittent rain - given the time of year, October, we should have suspected more. Arriving at the elegant old Galvez Hotel after that long lazy day we checked in, took a hot shower and fell in to bed. We awakened in the morning to the introductory notes of a full blown - not in the forecast, I might add - tornado! The palms whipped, moaned and bowed to the powerful winds. The rains hammered at the building as rapidly as a jazz drummer beating the heck out of his snare drums. The rock solid old Galvez didn’t move, even the windows were determined shields standing guard with out so much as a rattle. A quiet morning stroll along the water front was obviously not an option.
Food! Breakfast! We were starving. The power was still on thanks to a back up generator and the dining room was open. We were ready for a hearty southern breakfast. Eggs, grits, a generous slice of ham with fluffy biscuits and home made jam sounded about right. With the local newspaper in hand we looked for a comfortable spot, I, to read the mid week food section and Ed the sports pages. We were waiting for a soothing, melodious Southern voice to say “May I take your order?’ Instead a frantic, high pitched little voice was saying, “Attention, every one, put down your forks and follow me - NOW!” The tornado had picked up speed and was aimed right at us. Through it all the building stood fortress-like. The windows remained unshattered. The palms survived to wave another day and the entire dining room sat out mother nature’s whole performance in the basement, sitting on the floor. No ham, no eggs, not even a cup of coffee, just quiet conversations and the rattlings of the morning paper.
Interestingly, Ed with his pilot’s instincts and perhaps his experience flying in Gulf weather had parked our car behind the hotel instead of in the designated side parking lot. After the tornado passed we were to discover that every car in the side lot had imploded windows. Our car sat smugly behind the hotel, smiling and unscathed. We drove off, happily on our way west to visit my sister. I would finally find time to read the newspaper.
The lasting souvenirs of our Southern experience, other than mugs from Cafe Dumond, were two great simple recipes from Galveston's local paper - Beer Bread and a muffin recipe my daughter renamed Tornado Two Step Muffins! I still use them both. I’m saving the surprisingly simple muffin recipe for a future column. Stay tuned. Here’s Beer Bread.
BEER BREAD
- 1-12 oz. bottle of beer, room temperature
- 4 tablespoons sugar
- 3-cups self rising flour
- 4 tablespoons butter, melted
Pour beer into the pyrex pitcher and allow to de-fizz for a few minutes. Add sugar and stir. Add flour and stir until blended, dough will be a bit lumpy. Put dough in a greased 4x8" loaf pan. Set aside 15 minutes to rise. Pour melted butter over all. Bake at 350 degrees for one hour. Cool on a rack for 10 minutes before slicing.
Note - to convert regular flour to self rising flour add 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder and 1/2 teaspoon salt per cup of regular flour.
Leftover Beer Bread makes delicious breakfast toast.
Enjoy!
Martha
