Bakery Letter #15

The future and the end of an era.

Right around this time last year I was just starting to think about which recipes to include in the cookbook zine. I didn’t yet know I’d be calling it a “cookbook zine”, just that the need to finally put forth this work outweighed the specifics, at least initially. I just needed to get started. Of course a zine isn’t really a cookbook, but that was the spirit with which I wanted to infuse Panadería anyway. And did. This meant the recipes needed to be tested. It meant there needed to be a tools and pantry page. An acknowledgments page was my indulgence as the author and editor, but I felt I owed some folks a public thank you. If this was the closest I’d get to making a cookbook, I wanted to run with it.

I read a piece from India Johnson last week on third thing publishing and felt Panadería falls into this category of “not-quite-a-zine but not-quite-a-book” territory. The differentiating qualities that make up third thing publishing, as Johnson writes, are materiality, equipment access and maintenance, scope, audience building and sustainability:

“Again, third thing publishing tends to seek a balance between what’s practical/affordable for the publisher and what looks/feels fun or unusual for the reader. The corresponding price point for third thing publishing is usually higher than a classic zine, striking a balance between quality and affordability—enabling personal collecting without private wealth.”

I’m thinking about the particularities of Panadería because issue 2 is under way, existing just in google docs and my brain for now. Issue 2, still titled Panadería will not have the “cookbook zine” subtitle going forward. I’m leaning away from the zine being a cookbook at heart and more towards a magazine. Actually, the first job I ever remember wanting as a young person with stacks of both teen and fashion magazines in her bedroom was editor-in-chief, so let’s just say I’m making teenage Teresa very happy. And the older I get, the more I want to, if not emulate my smart teenage self, then at least pay my respects to her whenever I can.

Issue 2 will be more collaborative with other bakers and baker/writers. Where Panadería the cookbook zine was me me me, Panadería the magazine-zine (lol) will be more outwardly and worldly focused. A zine with magazine aspirations. Think of it as a magazine-zine for bakers, baker-writers, and small (emphasis on small) bakery owners. Being “bad at business” is a foundation because it isn’t the insult people think. Running a small food business with anti-capitalist values is a theme. I’m not the only one and I’m interested in featuring the ideas, words, values, recipes from other bakers whose businesses are examples of creating the change we’d all like to see in this world. The recipes will all be eggless, dairy-free, or entirely vegan. How exactly does one make those changes within fucked up food systems, within capitalism? Is being an egg-seasonal bakery realistic? As Kate Ray said last week in her newsletter:

“The idea of a bakery that whips aquafaba sometimes and egg whites at other times is almost unheard of, but indicates a nimbleness that brings the bakery into alignment with its season and place. I’m wondering if people are ready for this idea.”

I wonder this too. The vision for At Heart and its accompanying publication is deep-rooted and long-lasting, so I guess I’ll find out.

Bakery Life this Week

I’m writing this as two quarter sheet cakes and two half sheets sit in my fridge waiting to get stacked, filled, frosted and then chilled again until around 5am tomorrow morning when I’ll score the cake into 3x1” slices and add the flower and fruit deco. I still have to make enough buttercream for all four cakes. This week is my last baking from home, the end of At Heart’s cottage bakery era. To celebrate I decided quite last minute to have a $5 Cake Slice Day this weekend. Initially I had just one little treat cake on the calendar this week, and thought I’d rather go out with a bang. Let’s throw a party instead. Adding more work to my schedule is nothing if it means handing over slices of cake to people from my porch one last time.

A recent cake I enjoyed decorating.

The egg whites I separated from their yolks for a giant batch of hibiscus citrus curd yesterday get mixed with sugar, then heated over a double-boiler until the sugar dissolves. The egg whites will become a glossy meringue which I’ll add butter to, then heaping tablespoons of matcha powder and soo much lemon zest for the quarter sheets. I get excited when there’s curd on the cake prep list because it means those egg whites are going right back into the cake as buttercream. The leftovers from a can of coconut milk, which replaces the dairy milk in my funfetti cake, goes into a half quart deli container to be brushed on the cakes as I’m stacking. The cores of strawberries that become jam and strawberry syrup for cakes and my matchas, along with their leafy greens goes into compost. I do my best.

Favorites This Week

• Tiktok user kfesteryga’s videos about food as a status symbol and the waste the trend creates. I think about this when I see tapered candlesticks plunged into loaves of sourdough bread for cookbook tour launch parties. Or when lavish, exclusive cake parties in public spaces with tiramisus (among literally a thousand cakes, all of which need to be chilled!) warming under the sun goes viral. Excess for the sake of excess comes as no surprise. I really liked the definition for influence Jennifer Higgie writes about in The Other Side: A Story of Women in Art and the Spirit World: "Donna Huddleston told me she thinks of influence as ‘a necessary guide that chaperones and magnetises you.’” I would like to see people with large platforms in food spaces think more about where, exactly, they’re guiding and chaperoning people. What, exactly, they’re making magnetic in the eyes of the public.