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My Story: The Winding Road to Flour-Dusted Joy

I didn’t grow up knowing I’d become a baker. In fact, right out of high school, I thought my life was headed in a very different direction. I planned to become a funeral director and even completed a high-school internship in the field. But after losing my father during my senior year, everything shifted. I needed space—time to breathe, to heal, and to rethink what my future should look like.

That pause led me from Upstate New York to Raleigh, North Carolina, where I still call home. I returned to school for business marketing, worked several jobs behind a desk, and quickly learned that being confined to an office was not my path. My next unexpected chapter? Becoming a certified ballroom dance instructor. I loved the rhythm, the connection, the movement—but with a few injuries and an uncertain long-term future, I knew it couldn’t be forever.

So I waited tables. I bartended. And somewhere in those late-night shifts and early-morning turns, something became very clear: I needed to go back to school for what had always been my quiet passion—baking and pastry arts.

After graduating, my first role was as a pastry cook at a major university. It was high-volume, fast-paced, and incredibly physical—I was knocking out 18,000 steps a day without even trying. While working there, I returned to my alma mater as an adjunct baking instructor, something that brought me genuine joy and a deep sense of purpose.

Still keeping that part-time teaching role, I moved into a bread-baking position with Bon Appétit at SAS. Bread has always been my first love in the kitchen—the feel of dough under your palms, the quiet, knowing moment when fermentation tells you it’s time, the way instinct and technique come together like a conversation. It grounds me like nothing else.

And then the world changed.

The 2020 pandemic shut everything down, including my job. Oddly enough, I felt a sense of relief. I was a new mom who had only recently returned to work, and I had felt disconnected from my craft. Stepping away gave me something I’ll forever be grateful for: time. I got to witness every “first” with my little girl—her first crawl, first words, first steps—moments I might have missed otherwise. It truly was a blessing in disguise.

Now, years later, baking has returned to me in a softer, more intuitive, more personal way. This blog and website are my peaceful corner of the internet—a space where I can share the things I love: baking, bread, creativity, home, motherhood, intuition, and the belief that food carries the energy we give it.

If you’ve found your way here, I’m grateful you’re here.

This is a positive space. A grounded space. A space built on kindness, creativity, and that warm, quiet magic that lives in every kitchen.
If you’re bringing negativity—please take it somewhere else. The world has enough of that already.

Around here, we lead with peace and love.
Always.