Sun-Dried Tomato Provolone Bread

January 2024. Sarah's Table Year 2 as a storefront. The year-end numbers from 2023 (June-December, seven months): $173,000 revenue. In seven months. From six stools and a cast iron skillet. The annualized first-year projection: $296,000 (if you extrapolate the seven months to twelve). Not a quarter million. NEARLY $300,000. The number is: beyond anything I imagined when I wrote "Sarah's Table" on a napkin. The number is: a woman from Antioch generating $300,000 from her grandmother's cornbread recipe. The number is: real. The number is the most real thing. More real than the dental salary. More real than the Waffle House tips. More real than any number I've ever known because this number came from my hands. My food. My table.

Year 2 goals: expand. Not the restaurant (not yet — the six stools are a constraint that will eventually be addressed, but not this year). Expand the REACH. More catering. More holiday dinners. More of the thing that Sarah's Table does best: putting cornbread on tables that aren't mine. The expansion plan: hire a dedicated delivery driver (so I don't have to make sixteen RAV4 trips during holidays). Hire another cook (James is great but two cooks isn't enough for the volume we're approaching). And: start planning for the bigger space. Not signing a lease. PLANNING. The planning is the root system. The lease comes when the roots are deep enough.

Kevin's wedding is in three months. April. The menu is finalized. The team is ready. Sarah's Table is catering the Mitchell wedding and the Mitchell wedding will be the most important meal I've ever served because the meal is for my brother and the brother is choosing love and the love is Donna and the food is the witness to the choosing. The food has always been the witness.

Chloe turns twelve next month. TWELVE. The number that is closer to teenage than to child. The number that contains: hormones, opinions, independence, and the gradual, inevitable loosening of the grip between mother and daughter that is healthy and heartbreaking and necessary. She's twelve and she has a chef's jacket and a recipe on a restaurant menu and a KitchenAid named Ruby and the future is hers and the letting-go is mine and the letting-go is the hardest recipe in this entire box.

I made the January cornbread. The annual. The first cornbread of the new year. At the restaurant, at 5 AM, before the doors open, before the customers arrive. The cornbread in the quiet. The cornbread in the dark (it's dark at 5 AM in January). The cornbread in the beginning. The beginning is: 2024. The beginning is: Year 2. The beginning is: here. Always here. The cornbread begins and the year begins and the beginning is the same as every other beginning: hands, iron, heat, and the faith that the next thing will be good because the last thing was and the faith is the recipe and the recipe is Earline's and Earline has never let us down.

The cornbread at 5 AM is Earline’s — it belongs to her and to the beginning and I would never change a single gram of it. But catering Kevin’s wedding in April means our bread table has to expand, and this Sun-Dried Tomato Provolone Bread is the one I keep coming back to: bold, savory, built for a table full of people celebrating something real. It’s the kind of bread that announces itself. The kind Donna’s family will remember. The kind that says: Sarah’s Table showed up.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 50 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 5 minutes | Servings: 12 slices

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon dried oregano
2 large eggs, room temperature
3/4 cup whole milk
1/4 cup olive oil (plus extra for pan)
1/2 cup oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes, drained and roughly chopped
1 1/2 cups shredded provolone cheese, divided
2 tablespoons fresh basil, thinly sliced (optional)
Flaky sea salt, for topping

Instructions

Preheat and prepare. Heat oven to 350°F. Lightly oil a 9x5-inch loaf pan and line the bottom with a strip of parchment paper for easy release.
Combine dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, kosher salt, garlic powder, black pepper, and oregano until evenly mixed.
Whisk wet ingredients. In a separate bowl or large measuring cup, whisk together the eggs, milk, and olive oil until smooth and fully combined.
Bring the batter together. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir gently with a wooden spoon or spatula just until no dry flour remains — do not overmix. A few lumps are fine and keep the crumb tender.
Fold in the fillings. Add the sun-dried tomatoes, 1 cup of the shredded provolone, and the fresh basil if using. Fold in with 3—4 strokes until just distributed throughout the batter.
Fill and top. Scrape the batter into the prepared loaf pan and spread evenly. Scatter the remaining 1/2 cup provolone across the top, then finish with a pinch of flaky sea salt.
Bake. Bake for 45—50 minutes, until the top is deep golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. If the cheese top is browning too quickly after 35 minutes, tent loosely with foil for the remainder of the bake.
Cool before slicing. Let the loaf rest in the pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack. Allow to cool at least 20 minutes before slicing — this sets the crumb and makes clean slices possible.

Nutrition (per serving)

Sun-Dried Tomato Provolone Bread — Because Every New Year Begins With Bread and Belief