When I left teaching to become a baker, some of my former students were confused. “How’s your bakery?” I would sometimes see on Facebook.
Well, they were half right. I do feel like it’s MY bakery, especially when I unlock the doors at oh-dark-thirty and turn our oven on. But in truth, Holly B’s Bakery (“Holly’s Buns Are Best”) is not MINE…for which I thank my lucky stars. Especially at this time of year.
For a little bakery in a town with a tourist-dependent economy, July Fourth is Black Friday and the post-Christmas sales all wrapped up in one buttery croissant. Or make that 250 croissants.
Our kitchen is TINY. Three bakers have to squeeze past each other. We have only one oven. But the food must be baked! Here, I’ll try to give you some visuals:
Can you imagine the planning all this bounty requires? The ordering, the scheduling, the storage? What if you get it wrong? What if you run out of chocolate chips? What if you bake too many pesto baguettes and not enough of the olive tapenade? What if you make too much? What if you don’t make enough?
How does Holly ever sleep in late June (let alone continue to be the World’s Nicest Boss)???
Holly’s oldest son, Ty, is now co-owner (and the World’s Second Nicest Boss). Maybe it eases the stress to have someone to plan with. I sure hope so!
I LOVE my job. I love “my” bakery. But around Independence Day, I am extra-super grateful that I’m fairly “independent” of the stress of being in charge, and I take my hat off to all those brave souls who carry that load.
Happy Independence Day, business owners! Now go get some sleep.
How ’bout you? Do you own your own business? ARE you your own business? Or do you have that in your family? How do people COPE????
I think it’s lovely that you are baking. I remember when you were still in your teens your saying that someday you wanted to be a baker!
Again, we connect!
I met my husband at Moqui Lodge (it’s not there anymore- sniff!), just about halfway between the entrance to Grand Canyon National Park and the tiny tourist town of Tusayan, AZ. He was cooking Southwestern food with such flair that I, a lowly busser with aspirations of waitressing, was often asked if the chef was Mexican.
The fact that he bears an almost eerie resemblance to Henry VIII always made me giggle, whenever anyone asked.
These days, he’s the Executive Chef at a tiny upstate New York cantina. And I DO mean tiny – it was once a pizza parlor. The magic he does when he is in that miniscule kitchen is a testament to his skill,imagination, and passion.
It’s not “his” restaurant, to be honest. It belongs to a man named Rob who reminds me of Kurt Vonnegut. But the recipes, the organization, and the smooth functioning of that little kitchen and all the diverse things that come out of it are within his purview.
Apparently, people also eat lots of enchiladas on the Fourth of July. I wonder why…
And now I really want one of you croissants, and maybe one of those pesto baguettes, too!
Happy baking, Gretchen, and thanks for the tasty peek into your life! =)