I closed on a beautiful home in Seminole Heights this week. The buyers — a young couple, first-timers — looked at the keys the way I looked at my real estate license in 2012: like they were holding the future in their hands.
Alexander called from USF this week. He is settling in and building a life with the quiet competence of a young man who watched his mother rebuild from nothing and decided that building is what Papadopouloses do. He still does not call Yia-yia enough. He never will.
Some weeks are ordinary. This was an ordinary week. I sold houses. I cooked dinner. I called Mama. I drove to Tarpon Springs on Sunday. The extraordinary thing about ordinary weeks is that they are the ones you miss most when they are gone.
I made kolokithopita — savory Greek pumpkin pie with feta and dill in phyllo. What pumpkin should be when it grows up. I served it with bread and olive oil — always too much olive oil, because in this family there is no such thing as too much. We ate and the conversation was easy and the evening was warm.
Sophia told me this week that she is proud of me. I was not expecting it. We were in the car, driving to Tarpon Springs for Sunday dinner, and she said Mom, I am proud of you. I said for what. She said for everything. For the bakery. For the houses. For making dinner every night even when you are tired. I gripped the steering wheel and blinked and said thank you, koritsi mou. She said do not cry. I did not cry. Much.
The kolokithopita was the star that night, but bread is always the supporting cast that steals the scene — and we went through an entire loaf of it, pulling pieces off and dragging them through far too much olive oil, exactly as God intended. This savory pull apart bread is what I make when I want something that disappears fast and makes everyone reach toward the center of the table: warm, golden, and impossible to stop at one piece. On a week when Sophia made me cry in the car and Alexander is out there quietly building his life, pulling apart bread together at the table felt exactly right.
Savory Pull Apart Bread
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 1 round loaf sourdough or Italian bread (about 1 lb)
- 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, finely chopped
- 1 teaspoon fresh rosemary, minced
- 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
- 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
- 2 tablespoons olive oil, for drizzling
Instructions
- Preheat the oven. Heat oven to 375°F. Line a baking sheet with foil or prepare a large sheet of foil for wrapping.
- Score the bread. Using a serrated knife, cut the loaf in a crosshatch pattern — slicing about 1 inch apart both lengthwise and crosswise — stopping just before you reach the bottom crust so the loaf stays in one piece.
- Make the herb butter. In a small bowl, stir together the melted butter, minced garlic, parsley, rosemary, oregano, salt, and pepper until combined.
- Fill the bread. Gently pull apart the sections of the scored loaf and spoon the herb butter mixture down into all the cuts, working it in evenly. Tuck shredded mozzarella into the gaps, distributing it throughout. Sprinkle Parmesan over the top.
- Wrap and bake. Wrap the filled loaf loosely in foil and place on the baking sheet. Bake for 20 minutes, then open the foil to expose the top and bake an additional 8–10 minutes until the cheese is melted and the top is golden.
- Drizzle and serve. Remove from the oven and drizzle with olive oil. Serve immediately while warm — set it in the center of the table and let everyone pull off their own pieces.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 290 | Protein: 9g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 420mg