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The snow had just begun to fall as we pulled into the parking lot of the local market. Spots were scarce but we managed to find one and raced inside to escape the cold. The scene inside was downright apocalyptic. Hundreds of carts battled down narrow aisles only to find that the shelves were nearly bare. We snagged one of the last loaves of bread. It happened to be a loaf of Jewish Rye. The snow continued into the night. The next morning we awoke to mounds of snow and a gleeful California kid who could not get outside fast enough.

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Inside, the rye reminded me of summers on the Jersey shore where my entire extended family would convene and my aunts would assemble Sloppy Joes. It’s not what you’re thinking. These are Jersey girls – born and bred – and their kind of Sloppy Joe is totally different than the ground-meat-on-roll I learned of later in life.

I like a Sloppy Joe any way I can get it, but this kind holds a special place in my heart and it was the perfect thing to make with the lone loaf of rye we found at the market.

Now for the recipe…