the best things.

Sometimes, Mr. Amazing and I do not agree. Most of the time we can work it out pretty quickly, but every once in a while, disagreements drag on for months. We go about our lives and shared bakery dream around them, like a pothole in the road. Knowing all too well, sooner or later, one of us may hit it with a tire and the other will shrug and try not to do a noticeable victory dance. When the jarring thud has settled, like any two people trying to live a life together, we just appreciate the road traveled and experience gained.

For the past eleven months or so, we have been at odds. Quietly, in the background of this lovely old house. It was the beginning of October last year, 2023, when he first approached me with a suggestion. Being the genuinely caring man he is, he had noticed that very few people knew about our little bakery and he wanted, more than anything, to help make my dream come true. We were scraping every penny together to barely keep up with kitchen equipment and make a dent in our ambitiously high ingredient costs. A marketing budget didn’t exist, much less money for advertising. The truth was, that was more than okay with me. I loved the little bakery we were growing just the way it was. He, however, wanted to tell everyone how great he thought my baking was. He had noticed the Expositor ran a vote called the Reader’s Choice Awards for the best of, well, everything. Including bakers. He brought the published post to me, and suggested we mention it to our customers and ask for their vote the next year. I must have looked at him like he had lost his mind.

I told him no. In fact, I think my exact words were, “absolutely not, don’t you dare”.   Serious tone spewing in every word. As the months passed and the voting period grew closer, he continued to mention it, finally asking, “why don’t you want to be voted the best baker?” The truth was, way down deep inside, I did. But no matter how much of a thrill it would be, it was an empty trophy if we solicited the votes. If people thought I was a good baker, they would vote for us. Not as a favor, but because they loved our bread and pastry. It was as simple as that. Real and honest.

If you’re good at what you do, you’ll tell people. If you’re great at what you, they’ll tell you.

For the past year we have given this little bakery dream everything. Blood, sweat, tears, triumphs and massive failures. Like crazy people, we set hopes and goals so lofty we never achieve them. But we keep trying. Then we open our doors and hope, beyond hope, that you like what we’re doing. That we can keep sharing a little piece of ourselves, this wonderful old house, and our love of baking with you. And, if you tell a friend, we grow. Organically and genuinely.

This is the reason we have believed, from day one, that you are the most important part of our bakery dream. Without a penny spent on advertisement and zero marketing budget, you grew us as Sparta’s little bakery. You are, without a doubt, as much a part of this crazy bakery dream as we are.

How do I know?

You made The Bakery at 1871 the Reader’s Choice Best of the Best Baker for 2024.

There is no tone I can convey in writing to say this with enough gratitude, so I’ll say simply,

thank you, with all of our hearts.

Then I’ll walk back to the kitchen and put all of the caring and love into more bread and pastry.

I might even skip the victory dance when I tell Mr. Amazing. Maybe.

See you soon.