Dubliner Dill Skillet Irish Soda Bread

I walked into the Sunshine Kids Learning Center on Monday morning at 7:15 AM, fifteen minutes early, because I am the kind of person who is fifteen minutes early to things that terrify her. The building smelled like Lysol and applesauce and something underneath both of those smells that I think was just the permanent scent of small humans — milk and sweat and that specific sweetness that toddlers carry around like cologne they didn't choose. My supervisor, Mrs. Dawson, handed me a lanyard with my name on it. SAVANNAH. In block letters. On a badge that said TODDLER ROOM AIDE. I clipped it to my polo shirt and stood there looking at it like it was a diploma.

There are eight toddlers in my room. Eight. Their names are on cubbies by the door and I memorized them all before the first parent dropped off: Aiden, Brooklyn, Caleb, Emma, Isaiah, Jaylen, Mia, and one tiny boy named Thomas who arrived clutching a stuffed elephant and screaming like the building was on fire. His mother peeled him off her leg and handed him to me and said, "He'll stop in ten minutes." She was right. He stopped in eight. He stopped because I sat on the floor with him and didn't say anything, just sat there, and he looked at me with his wet face and his elephant and decided I was acceptable. I know that silence. I know what it's like to need someone to just be there without demanding you be okay. I was that kid. I was Thomas in seven different houses, waiting for someone to sit on the floor.

By Wednesday I had applesauce in my hair and a bruise on my shin from a toy truck and I was happier than I have been in months. These children need me. Not in the desperate, structural way I needed Gloria — not for survival — but in the ordinary, daily way that a toddler needs a person to hand them their cup and tie their shoe and say "good job" when they stack three blocks. I am good at this. I am good at seeing what a small person needs before they can say it, because I spent my childhood needing things I couldn't say.

I came home to Gloria's house Thursday night and she'd made cornbread — the skillet kind, in cast iron, with buttermilk and a little honey, the crust golden from the hot greased pan. She cut me a square and poured a glass of cold milk and said, "Tell me about your kids." My kids. She said it like that. Like they were mine. I told her about Thomas and the elephant. I told her about Mia, who shares her goldfish crackers with everyone unprompted, which is a level of generosity most adults haven't achieved. I told her about the applesauce in my hair. Gloria laughed. She said, "Welcome to it, baby." I ate my cornbread and I belonged somewhere new.

That night, sitting at Gloria’s table with cornbread and cold milk and someone asking about my day like it mattered, I kept thinking about the cast iron—the weight of it, the way it holds heat, the fact that something that simple can make you feel so found. I wanted to bake something that felt the same way: sturdy and warm and a little unexpected, the kind of thing you make when you need to give your hands something to do while your heart catches up. Skillet soda bread was the answer, and I made it mine with sharp Dubliner cheese and fresh dill, because “welcome to it, baby” deserves a bread with a little personality.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
3/4 cup cold buttermilk, plus more as needed
1 large egg, lightly beaten
1 cup shredded Dubliner cheese (or sharp Irish cheddar), divided
2 tablespoons fresh dill, chopped (or 2 teaspoons dried dill)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, for the skillet
Flaky salt, for finishing

Instructions

Preheat and prep the skillet. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Place a 10-inch cast iron skillet in the oven while it heats. You want that pan hot when the dough hits it — that’s what gives the bottom its golden crust.
Combine dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt, and sugar until evenly mixed.
Add cheese and dill. Stir in 3/4 cup of the shredded Dubliner cheese and all of the dill, tossing to coat the cheese in the flour mixture so it doesn’t clump.
Mix wet into dry. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients. Pour in the buttermilk and the beaten egg. Stir gently with a fork or wooden spoon just until a shaggy dough comes together. Do not overmix — the bread will be tough if you work it too hard. If the dough looks dry, add buttermilk one tablespoon at a time.
Shape the loaf. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and shape it gently into a round about 1 inch thick. Score a deep X across the top with a sharp knife, cutting almost all the way through.
Load the hot skillet. Using oven mitts, carefully remove the hot skillet from the oven. Add the butter and swirl to coat the bottom and sides — it will sizzle and melt fast. Lay the dough round into the center of the skillet. Scatter the remaining 1/4 cup of cheese over the top and finish with a pinch of flaky salt.
Bake. Return the skillet to the oven and bake for 32–38 minutes, until the top is deep golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. The cheese on top will be lightly crisped.
Rest before cutting. Let the bread cool in the skillet for at least 10 minutes before slicing. Serve warm with cold butter or alongside a glass of cold milk.

Nutrition (per serving)

Dubliner Dill Skillet Irish Soda Bread — Gloria’s Cast Iron Welcome Home