Tag: personal growth

For a long time, I’ve had this idea of starting a little bakery. And by “little bakery,” I mean something that starts with me, my kitchen, probably way too many dishes, and me trying to figure out if other people actually like the things I make as much as I do.

I’ve always wanted to approach it realistically, though. I don’t want to jump straight into renting a storefront, buying a million dollars worth of equipment, and then realizing I have no idea what I’m doing.

So the plan is to start small.

I want to start from home, figure out what people actually want to buy, learn the business side, and build from there.

Because the dream is definitely bigger than selling a few loaves of banana bread.

Eventually, I would love to have a bakery or bakery/café situation. But before I get there, I need to build the foundation first.

Starting With the Foundation

Before I can start selling anything, I need to get all the boring-but-important business stuff figured out.

That means choosing a bakery name, deciding whether I want to operate as a sole proprietor or form an LLC, and registering my business name if necessary.

Since I’m in California, I’ll also need to figure out the appropriate cottage food permit or registration, food-safety training, food-handler requirements, and whatever business license my county requires.

And yes, apparently an LLC and a county business license are two completely different things because naturally nothing can just be one thing.

I’ll also need to make sure my labels have the required ingredient and allergy information and that everything I sell follows California’s cottage food rules.

Basically, before I can say, “Come buy my pie,” I need to make sure I’m legally allowed to say, “Come buy my pie.”

Starting Small and Finding Local Customers

The good thing about starting small is that I don’t need hundreds of customers.

I can start with the people around me.

Friends, family, neighbors, local community groups, and social media can all help me get those first few customers. I can make flyers, post online, and basically let people know that there is now a person in their area making baked goods and asking them to please give me money for them.

I’d also like to eventually offer porch pickup and possibly local delivery.

But I want to keep the delivery area small.

I’m not trying to spend three hours driving around California delivering one loaf of banana bread. At that point, the banana bread is making more money than I am.

Keeping Ordering Simple

I want the ordering process to be as easy as possible.

I’m considering using something like Hotplate or another simple online ordering system. My plan is to do pre-orders only, have customers pay upfront, set a clear order deadline, and have specific pickup days and times.

That way, I’m not baking a bunch of food and hoping somebody eventually decides they want it.

I’ll already know what has been ordered before I start baking.

This should help me control food waste, keep track of ingredient costs, and make the whole thing much less chaotic.

Because while I fully support a little chaos in my personal life, I would prefer my business to have spreadsheets.

Building a Simple Brand

I want the bakery to have a name and logo that feel like me.

But I also don’t think I need to spend a fortune on branding before I’ve even made my first sale.

At the beginning, I can keep things simple with logo stickers, basic boxes or bags, parchment paper, and the required ingredient information.

Eventually, I can get cute thank-you cards, custom packaging, stamps, tissue paper, ribbons, and all the other little things that make me want to buy something simply because the packaging is adorable.

But none of that needs to happen on day one.

The actual food needs to come first.

I want people to remember that the bread was good, the pie was good, the brownies were good, and they actually enjoyed ordering from me.

The cute sticker is just the bonus.

What Do I Actually Want to Sell?

This is probably one of the biggest questions I’ve been asking myself:

What do I actually want my bakery to be known for?

I don’t necessarily want to be the cake lady.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with cakes, but I’m much more interested in bread, pies, brownies, cookies, cinnamon rolls, and little desserts.

Basically, I want the kind of bakery where you walk in and immediately think, “Oh no. I want everything.”

I’ve been working on a temporary starter menu that feels like it gives me some variety without completely overwhelming me.

My Temporary Starter Menu

BREAD

1. Pumpkin Loaf
2. Zucchini Bread
3. Banana Bread

PIES

4. Apple Crumble Pie
5. Signature Seasonal Fruit Pie

COOKIES

6. Salted Chocolate Chunk Cookie
7. Seasonal Cookie

SMALL DESSERTS

8. Dark Chocolate Brownie Tart
9. Seasonal Crumble Bar

ROTATING

10. A Strange Little Thing

One experimental item that gives me an excuse to make something weird, seasonal, or just something I really want to try.

And honestly, I kind of love the idea of having one item on the menu that basically says, “I don’t know what this is yet either, but let’s see what happens.”

Is This Too Much?

And this is where I’m questioning myself.

Is this temporary menu too much for a brand-new cottage bakery?

On paper, ten items sounds like a lot.

But it’s also not really ten completely different things. Some of these can use similar ingredients, the seasonal items would rotate, and I wouldn’t necessarily make every single item every week.

My thought is that the menu gives me a framework rather than meaning I have to bake ten different things every time I open pre-orders.

For example, maybe one week I offer banana bread, apple crumble pie, salted chocolate chunk cookies, and the brownie tarts.

Then the next week I rotate in pumpkin loaf, the seasonal fruit pie, a seasonal cookie, and the crumble bars.

I could also eventually figure out which products people actually care about and cut anything that isn’t selling.

But I genuinely want to know if I’m overcomplicating this before I start.

Would ten potential menu items be too much to start with, even if only four or five are offered at a time?

Or does this feel like a reasonable starting framework for a small home bakery?

Because I know myself well enough to know that I could easily say, “I’m starting small,” and then accidentally create an entire bakery menu before I’ve sold one cookie.

Testing My Products

I’ve also started looking at my recipes differently.

It isn’t enough for me to think, “I like making this.”

It needs to make sense as a business.

How long does it take to make? How much does it cost? Can I make multiple batches at once? Is it easy to package? Does it travel well? Would someone actually buy it again?

For example, a pie takes me around 45 minutes to make and costs approximately $8–$10 depending on the fruit.

If I cut one pie into six slices and sell each slice for $5, that’s $30 in potential sales from one pie.

Loaves like banana bread and pumpkin bread take around 30 minutes to make and cost roughly $5–$7. I’m considering selling them for around $5, although I’ll need to do the actual math before deciding on a final price.

Cookies are another product I’m interested in because they can be made in batches. The ingredient cost can be relatively low, and I can make a bunch at once instead of standing in my kitchen making one cookie at a time like a tiny Victorian factory worker.

I’m considering selling a dozen for around $6, but again, I need to calculate the actual cost of each batch before I decide what makes sense.

The important thing is that I want my products to check several boxes:

I enjoy making them.
I can make them consistently.
They can be made in batches.
They’re easy to package and transport.
And they’re things I would actually buy myself.

That last one is pretty important.

I don’t want to build a business around something I don’t even like eating.

Keeping the Business Profitable

One of my biggest goals is to avoid spending money just because I’m excited about having a business.

Because I know myself.

Give me a cute bakery idea and suddenly I’m on the internet looking at custom boxes, personalized tissue paper, a commercial mixer, and a neon sign for a business that hasn’t made one dollar yet.

So I want to be intentional.

I want to pre-sell before I bake, make things in batches, track my ingredient costs, and avoid making more food than I have orders for.

I can also offer larger packages or boxes and charge separately for delivery.

Then, as the business actually starts making money, I can reinvest some of that profit into better packaging, equipment, ingredients, marketing, and eventually more products.

Basically, I want the bakery to pay for the bakery.

What Will It Cost to Start?

Right now, I’m estimating that I could potentially get started for around $150–$300 or more, depending on my county’s requirements and what equipment I already have.

Some of my initial expenses could include:

• Business registration/name: varies
• Cottage food permit or registration: varies by county
• Food-safety training: varies
• Flyers: approximately $30–$50
• Logo stickers: approximately $25–$40
• Packaging: approximately $30–$50
• Initial ingredients: approximately $50–$100

These are obviously estimates, and I’ll need to confirm the actual California and county requirements before I start selling.

I also already have some equipment, which helps keep the initial cost down.

I’m trying very hard not to fall into the trap of thinking I need to own an entire professional bakery before I’m allowed to call myself a baker.

My Break-Even Goal

I also want to know exactly when I’ll make my initial investment back.

For example, if I spend $250 getting everything started and make $10 in profit from each order, I’d need approximately 25 orders to recover that initial $250.

Twenty-five orders suddenly sounds a lot less intimidating than “I need to build a successful bakery.”

That’s something I’m trying to remind myself throughout this whole process.

I don’t need to become a huge bakery overnight.

I need one customer.

Then another.

Then another.

I need to figure out what sells, learn from what doesn’t, adjust my prices, improve my recipes, and keep going.

The Bigger Dream

The long-term dream is definitely bigger than a cottage bakery.

I’d love to eventually sell at farmers markets, grow a loyal customer base, and someday have my own bakery or bakery/café.

But I don’t need to build that entire business right now.

Right now, I need to figure out the legal stuff, choose a few products, test my recipes, calculate my costs, find my first customers, and make the first sale.

That’s it.

I think sometimes it’s easy to look at the finished version of someone else’s business and forget that it started with one person having an idea and wondering if it could actually work.

So that’s where I am right now.

I have an idea.

I have a kitchen.

I have recipes I want to test.

And I have a slightly concerning amount of enthusiasm for baked goods.

For now, I’m not trying to build the entire bakery.

I’m just trying to bake the first batch.

Lately, it feels like my life’s been buffering.
Not broken, just caught on that little spinning wheel of “what now?” while everyone else seems to be streaming in 4K.

One friend’s in New York again — her fifth trip this year — just casually living out of a suitcase and a latte cup.
Another turned her kitchen into a full-blown bakery while also working as head baker for an actual brick-and-mortar shop (girlboss, but make it buttercream).
And my con-going friend? She’s been to basically every event this year and she’s a lab tech — like, saving lives by day, cosplaying by night energy.

We don’t see each other often, but their updates feel like postcards from another planet.
Meanwhile, my days look like the same mug, the same desk, the same playlist I keep pretending is “background noise” and not my entire personality.

My bestie’s a stay-at-home mom starting a ribbon flower Etsy shop (which is actually the cutest thing ever),
and then there’s me and Hector — this year’s been all wedding planning and not much else.
It’s love, it’s cozy, but it’s also still. Like… waiting-room still.

And if I’m honest, I think that’s what’s really been sitting in my chest lately —
the fact that my life’s about to get even quieter.
We’ve been talking about having a baby soon,
and that kind of stillness is a different kind of wild.
No more spontaneous trips or long nights out — not that we had those anyway,
just bottles, naps, and whatever version of myself comes next.
It’s a softer chapter, but it’s still a pause.

I keep thinking about how much who you surround yourself with matters —
not because my people are bad (they’re wonderful, actually),
but because sometimes being around motion reminds you that you can move too.
And right now, I’m just… here. Not moving fast. Not falling behind.
Just buffering.

Maybe that’s okay.
Maybe this is what growth looks like before it blooms.