Meatball Submarine Casserole

Sarah's Table is growing. Week three: four orders. Four. The office lunch (now weekly — they've signed up for recurring Tuesdays, delivered from Sunday's cook, reheated instructions included). A church function. A retirement party for twenty people ($375 — my biggest order yet). And a DM from Instagram: a woman named Jessica who wants Sarah's Table for her daughter's baptism. A BAPTISM. My food at a baptism. My cornbread at a spiritual ceremony. The food is entering sacred spaces. The food has always been in sacred spaces — every kitchen is sacred — but now it's official. Now it has a price tag and a delivery date and a customer who chose my food to mark the moment her child enters a faith community. The responsibility of that is not lost on me.

The math, week three: $930 revenue. Kitchen rent: $200. Ingredients: approximately $350. Profit: approximately $380. I am making more from four Sunday cooking sessions than I made in my first month at Waffle House. The comparison is absurd and perfect and I think about it standing at the commercial stove and I laugh because the woman who made $7 an hour serving eggs is now making $380 a month selling cornbread and the trajectory of that — from $7 eggs to $380 cornbread — is the most Sarah Mitchell math that exists.

Chloe has ideas. She's the CPO but she has ideas that exceed her title. She said: "Mama, you need a logo." A LOGO. She sketched one: a table with a cast iron skillet on it, steam rising, the words "Sarah's Table" in a font she describes as "warm but professional." The sketch is good. The sketch is better than anything I would have designed. I'm going to use it. I'm going to use a nine-year-old's sketch as my business logo because the nine-year-old has better taste than I do and I've accepted this and the acceptance is freeing.

Jayden asked: "Does Sarah's Table have a fire truck?" It does not. It has a cast iron skillet. He said: "You should have a fire truck. For safety." For safety. The boy is applying fire department regulations to a catering business. I told him his concern was noted and that Sarah's Table has an excellent safety record (three weeks, zero incidents, unless you count the time I burned my wrist on the oven rack, which I don't because I've been burning myself on oven racks since I was eleven and it's basically a handshake from the kitchen).

I made Sunday dinner at home — after the commercial cook, after the delivery, after the cleanup. I came home and I made dinner for my kids because the commercial kitchen is for customers and the home kitchen is for family and the two are different and must stay different because the home kitchen is where the food is free and the love is the only currency. Spaghetti and meatballs. Chloe's request. The beginning food. Because every week of Sarah's Table is a beginning and beginnings get spaghetti.

Chloe asked for spaghetti and meatballs, which is her way of asking for the beginning — the meal that says we are home and we are together and nothing about tonight is a transaction. I didn’t have spaghetti in the pantry, but I had hoagie rolls and a jar of good marinara and a bag of meatballs I’d stashed in the freezer for exactly this kind of Sunday, and what came out of the oven was a meatball submarine casserole that Chloe declared “even better than spaghetti, actually.” The home kitchen provides.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 loaf (about 14 oz) Italian or French bread, cut into 1-inch cubes
1 package (about 24 oz) frozen fully-cooked meatballs, thawed
1 jar (24 oz) marinara or pasta sauce
1/2 cup beef broth
1 teaspoon Italian seasoning
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
1 1/2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese, divided
1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley, for garnish

Instructions

Preheat oven. Heat oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish with cooking spray.
Layer the bread. Spread the cubed bread evenly across the bottom of the prepared baking dish, pressing it down gently into a single layer.
Mix the sauce. In a large bowl, stir together the marinara sauce, beef broth, Italian seasoning, garlic powder, and red pepper flakes (if using) until combined.
Add the meatballs. Arrange the thawed meatballs in an even layer over the bread cubes. Pour the marinara mixture evenly over the top, making sure the bread and meatballs are well coated. Press down lightly so the bread begins to absorb the sauce.
Add cheese. Sprinkle 1 cup of the shredded mozzarella evenly over the casserole. Top with the grated Parmesan.
Bake, covered. Cover the dish tightly with aluminum foil and bake for 15 minutes.
Bake, uncovered. Remove the foil, sprinkle on the remaining 1/2 cup mozzarella, and bake uncovered for an additional 10 minutes, or until the cheese is melted, bubbly, and lightly golden at the edges.
Rest and garnish. Let the casserole rest for 5 minutes before serving. Scatter fresh parsley over the top and serve straight from the pan.

Nutrition (per serving)

Meatball Submarine Casserole — The Home Kitchen Is for Family