Garlic Toast Recipe -- The First Bread of Year Six

March. The anniversary of everything: the blog (five years next week), the retirement (one year ago), the pandemic (one year ago), and the season that means starting over. March is my reset button. The azaleas bloom. The garden grows. The kitchen gets a spring clean that borders on religious ceremony. I scrub every surface, organize every cabinet, wash the windows so the light comes through clean. Hattie Pearl did this every March. I do it because she did it. Kayla will do it because I did it. The cleaning is as much a tradition as the cooking.

I've been thinking about what I want the next year to look like. Year six of the blog. Year two of retirement. Year three without Earl. Here's what I want: I want the cooking classes to happen. I want the book to find a home — not a big publisher, just someone who will print it and put it on a shelf where people can find it. I want the Lowcountry boil to come back in September. I want to hold Amara and David Jr. as often as I can. I want to feed Mrs. Crawford until she tells me to stop, which she won't.

I want to go back to Sapelo. One more time. With Kayla and the recorder and the manuscript. I want to show Miss Cornelia the book. I want to sit on her porch and tell her that Pearl's peppers are growing in Savannah and Pearl's hot sauce is in my kitchen and Pearl's story is in the book. I want to close that circle.

Made cornbread tonight in the skillet. The first cornbread of year six. Golden, crisp edges, soft center. I ate it with butter and honey and I said to the empty kitchen — which isn't empty, which is full of Earl and Mama and Pearl and everyone who ever stood at this stove — "Another year, baby. Another year of feeding somebody."

Now go on and feed somebody.

That skillet of cornbread I made to close out year five had me thinking about bread in every form — the way a warm, golden slice can hold a whole room together without saying a word. Garlic toast might seem humble beside everything I’ve been carrying this March, but that’s exactly why it belongs here: it’s honest, it’s fast, and it’s the kind of thing you can make for Mrs. Crawford on a Tuesday or set alongside a pot of something slow on a Sunday, and it never once asks for more than you have to give. Hattie Pearl would have had a basket of this on the table before you even sat down.

Garlic Toast

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 1 loaf Italian or French bread, cut in half lengthwise
• 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
• 3 cloves garlic, minced (or 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder)
• 2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
• 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 2 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese (optional)

Instructions

1. Preheat the broiler. Set your oven broiler to high and position a rack about 6 inches from the heat source. Line a baking sheet with foil.
2. Make the garlic butter. In a small bowl, combine the softened butter, minced garlic, parsley, salt, and pepper. Stir until fully blended and smooth.
3. Spread the bread. Lay the bread halves cut-side up on the prepared baking sheet. Spread the garlic butter generously and evenly across both cut surfaces, going all the way to the edges so the corners don’t dry out.
4. Add Parmesan if using. Sprinkle the grated Parmesan evenly over the buttered surface for a lightly savory, golden crust.
5. Broil until golden. Slide the pan under the broiler and broil for 3 to 5 minutes, watching closely, until the edges are deep gold and the surface is bubbling and lightly crisped. Every broiler runs different — don’t walk away.
6. Slice and serve. Remove from the oven and let cool for one minute before slicing into 2-inch pieces. Serve warm, right from the pan.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 210 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 310mg