Our Method

The short version

I mill my own flour, I let the dough take its time, and I don't put anything in the bread that I wouldn't want on my own family's plate. That's pretty much the whole method. But since you're here, let me walk you through it.

It starts with the grain

I bake with ancient wheats: spelt, Kamut, einkorn. Older grains, fuller flavors, none of them bred within an inch of their lives for yield and shelf life.

And before any of them meet the mill, they're sprouted: soaked until the grain just begins to wake up, then gently dried. Sprouting unlocks nutrients that are otherwise locked away in the seed and makes the whole loaf naturally sweeter. It's an extra step almost nobody takes, because it's slow. You'll notice a theme.

Then, the mill

Most bakeries, even good ones, buy their flour in bags. I don't. I mill those grains myself, fresh, in small amounts, on a stone mill. (Yes, those two stones. The bakery is named after them for a reason.)

Why bother? Because flour is a lot like coffee: it's best soon after grinding, and it quietly loses its magic the longer it sits. Fresh milling keeps the bran and the germ, the parts with most of the flavor and nutrition, instead of stripping them out for shelf life. You can taste the difference. It's nuttier, sweeter, more alive. It's the single biggest reason our bread tastes the way it does.

Then we wait (and wait)

I don't rush dough. Our bread rises slowly through a long fermentation: the old, patient way, the way bread was made before anyone was in a hurry.

Time is doing real work here, not just sitting around. A long, slow ferment builds flavor you can't fake with shortcuts, and it starts breaking down the grain before you ever take a bite. Plenty of people who find regular bread heavy tell us ours sits differently - we'll let them say it.

The downside: I cannot make bread happen faster by wanting it more. Believe me, I've tried.

A very short ingredient list

Here's what goes into our bread: freshly milled flour, water, salt, and a live starter. Time. Care. The unsolicited supervision of small children.

Here's what doesn't: commercial yeast, preservatives, dough conditioners, added sugars, or anything with a name I'd need to look up. If you can't picture an ingredient sitting in your own kitchen, it's not going in mine.

This is the part that started it all - the reason I went from "I love baking" to "I need to build a bakery." Good bread and healthy bread were never supposed to be two different things.

Small batches, real hands

Everything is made by me, by hand, in my home kitchen. I mill, mix, shape, score, and bake every loaf myself, in one weekly bake. Nothing is automated, nothing is outsourced, and nothing leaves the kitchen that I wouldn't serve my own family, because, well, I do.

It means the week's loaves are finite, and they do run out. Order early; the dough waits for no one, and neither does the order cutoff. Doing it properly and doing it fast were never going to be the same thing.

The result

Bread that tastes like it should, made from grain you can actually trace, that earns its place on your table every day — not just as a treat.

That's the method. The rest is just flour on the counter.

— Raksha