10/11/2026
Not every market day goes as planned. That doesn’t make it a bad day. 🖤
We have to find the wonder and joy in the slower days, too. This isn’t about just the bottom line. It’s about the relationships and community we can build. Ya know, the real stuff. The good stuff. Let me tell you some of my favorite parts of today.
We had a first-timer. She bought a JB. Left. Ate it. Rushed back for another.
WIN. 🙌🏼
We bartered for our pups’ favorite treats with Pet Wants Winter Park.
WIN. 🐾
Surprised my soul sister [circa blonde-haired, pierced-lip Beck] with the softest Cookies & Cream loaf. Reminisced about how we fell in love and ranted about the patriarchy.
WIN. ✊🏻
Delivered bread to a family we met during our very first weekend at the City of Longwood Farmers Market a little over a year ago. What started with a single chocolate chip cookie has become one of the best parts of my weekend - them running into my arms for hugs, followed by the most aggressive high fives you’ve ever experienced in your life. [If you’re a boy mom ikyk. It’s like the ultimate form of acceptance.]
We meant to stay for just a minute and somehow spent the afternoon.
To them, I’m just “the cookie lady.”
To me, they’re reminders of my whys.
WIN. 🖤
Bc fr, why do I do this?! It is BACKBREAKING. Literally. What am I thinking?! 😂
But really, I do this because I love it. And I love you.
For as long as I can remember, the kitchen has been where I’ve known how to show my love best. And maybe even felt loved best. Honestly, I can’t remember a time in my life when I wasn’t obsessed with cooking.
Mise en place — everything in its place — quite literally helps me put my things [and sometimes my life] in place.
I was the latchkey kid spending her afternoons pretending she was Cooking with Bobby Flay. The kid who got cookbooks instead of coloring books and was allotted enough freedom to make mistakes, figure things out, and try again.
I’ve been the go-to dinner maker for every friend group, gathering, and function since middle school. A thousand jobs, a million ideas followed by self doubt, and what feels like at least a dozen lifetimes later…
I’m finally living in my purpose.
[Still not entirely. A tent is not where this story ends. 😉]
But every single loaf, cookie, focaccia, and wild thing you eat up after Hoot tells me I’m crazy is part of this journey. A journey that, if I’m being honest, is still a little surreal because it’s my dream.
So when I tell you thank you, when I tell you that you’re the reason I get to do what I love, I mean it with my whole heart.
This love. This dream that began on a step-stool next to my Grammy, baking the bread she baked with her Grammy. This little [but oh so huge] business. It is everything we make of it.
I am beyond grateful that you choose to bring something I’ve made into your homes — to your dinner tables, your get-togethers, your celebrations, and your moments when you just need something sweet.
Thank you for supporting us.
For allowing me to show up as my whole, weird, wonderfully ridiculous self.
For trusting me with a seat at your table, even if it’s just in the form of a loaf of bread.
For every order, every conversation, every shared afternoon, every kind word, and every time you come back for another.
You’re not just supporting a small business. You’re helping me build a life around something I have loved for as long as I can remember.
And I will never take that for granted.
From the very bottom of my heart, thank you for being part of our story.
Always, always. Baked Wild, With Love.
- Beck, H&A
