By First week with students. Eight kids, first day, Monday. They came in one or two at a time with parents or guardians, each arrival its own thing — a grandmother who held her grandson's hand all the way to his chair, a father who crouched down to his daughter's height and said something in her ear before leaving, a boy who walked in alone, without anyone, and went straight to the book basket and started looking through it without waiting to be shown. That last one made my heart break a little and I made a note and then got on with the morning.
The morning circle went well. The visual schedule did what it was supposed to do. One student — I will call her Rosa — had a meltdown at transition time, which I had planned for, and Carla and I got her through it. It took twelve minutes. Twelve minutes is not a crisis. Twelve minutes is a child learning that this room is safe enough to fall apart in. By Friday, Rosa's transitions were taking four minutes.
I bought snacks for the classroom with my own money: goldfish crackers, applesauce pouches, granola bars. Forty-six dollars. That is more than the classroom supply budget. That is not a calculation I am going to think about too hard. These children need to know that when they get to school in the morning there is something to eat. The forty-dollar budget does not include this. The forty-dollar budget is a policy problem that I am solving personally for now.
Made slow cooker beef and vegetable soup at home Sunday for the week — a big pot, under eight dollars, beef and carrots and potato and onion and tomato in broth, eight hours on low. Ate it every day for lunch with bread. The soup was the thing that made the week survivable. I am twenty-three years old and I am a teacher. I am tired every day by three PM and I go home and eat the soup and write my lesson plans for tomorrow and go to sleep at nine-thirty and wake up at five and go back. It is everything I wanted.
Sunday afternoons have become sacred to me now — that quiet window before the week begins where I set something in the slow cooker and let it do its work while I do mine. The pot roast I made that first weekend wasn’t fancy, but it was exactly what I needed: something warm and forgiving that would be waiting for me each evening after the kids and the lesson plans and the twelve-minute meltdowns that became four-minute ones by Friday. If you’re someone who gives everything they have during the day and needs a meal that asks almost nothing of you in return, this is that meal.
Slow Cooker Mississippi Pot Roast
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 8 hours | Total Time: 8 hours 10 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 3 to 4 lb chuck roast
- 1 packet (1 oz) ranch dressing mix
- 1 packet (1 oz) au jus gravy mix
- 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter
- 6 to 8 pepperoncini peppers
- 1/4 cup pepperoncini brine (from the jar)
- Salt and black pepper, to taste
Instructions
- Season the roast. Pat the chuck roast dry with paper towels and season lightly on both sides with salt and black pepper. Place it in the bottom of a 6-quart slow cooker.
- Add the flavor packets. Sprinkle the ranch dressing mix and au jus gravy mix evenly over the top of the roast. Do not stir.
- Top with butter and peppers. Place the stick of butter directly on top of the roast. Arrange the pepperoncini peppers around and on top of the meat, then drizzle the pepperoncini brine over everything.
- Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 8 hours, or until the roast is fork-tender and shreds easily. Resist lifting the lid during cooking.
- Shred and serve. Use two forks to shred the roast directly in the slow cooker, stirring it into the pan juices. Serve over mashed potatoes, egg noodles, or with crusty bread to soak up the drippings.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 520 | Protein: 42g | Fat: 36g | Carbs: 4g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 890mg