Whole-Milk Baguette
Crisp, thin and crackling — baked in a single short batch so each one comes out with that fresh-from-the-oven snap.
Baked before the sun is up
A neighbourhood bakery where every loaf begins with a starter we’ve kept alive for thirty-seven years — slow-fermented, hand-shaped, and pulled from the oven while it still crackles.
Stone-milled flour · No shortcutsOut of the oven
We turn the ovens on at four so the first loaves are cooling on the counter as the doors open. If you want one of these warm, come early — they rarely last past nine.
Crisp, thin and crackling — baked in a single short batch so each one comes out with that fresh-from-the-oven snap.
Dimpled by hand, drenched in rosemary oil and studded with green olives. Cut into squares and gone by two.
A delicate afternoon treat, baked in the classic shell mould and dusted with a whisper of icing sugar.
Mara and Theo opened with one second-hand deck oven, a hand-cranked mixer, and a sourdough starter named Grandpa’s. The line wrapped around the corner by noon.
When the shop moved down the street, we carried the starter in a jar strapped to our chest. It has never missed a single feed since.
We switched to locally stone-milled wheat, keeping the bran and germ in for a deeper flavour — and a slower, richer ferment.
Two generations on, every loaf is still shaped, scored and baked the same way: slowly, carefully, and with a little too much butter.
“The best bread in the county — and I’ve eaten a lot of bread.”— The Morning Gazette, 2019