The Baker Man and Me

Ten years ago, I met a baker at our local Farmer’s Market. The baker could’ve been my son with dark hair, a wry smile, and warm personality. He was setting up his table with loaves of freshly baked bread for the first time. He worked out of his home and had plans for expansion. Before I took off with a loaf of sourdough bread in my tote, I admonished him. “You need to get an email list, start a web site, notify your customers about upcoming items.”  I had started my own blog a couple of years before and was working on my “platform” in anticipation of publishing my first book. I guess I thought I was the expert.

The Farmer’s Market has a large area with artificial turf surrounded by benches used for community activities. That day, tables covered with colored construction paper and crayons to promote children’s creativity were scattered on the turf. I grabbed a sheet of construction paper and a dark crayon from the closest table. “Here use this for your list.”  I was the first to sign my name and email.

When I came home, I proudly told my husband how I had been proactive in promoting this young man’s business.

The next few weeks I stopped at his booth, noting a formal sign-in sheet and expanding choice of breads along with the addition of other baked goods. Eventually, he stopped coming to the Farmer’s Market. But he did start a web page and soon he was expanding his baking to weekly deliveries at local sites. One year, before Thanksgiving, I ordered a couple of his pies: Apple and Pumpkin. He had arranged a pickup site near my home. I took my place at the end of a long line. Was the young woman helping him, his wife? I was tempted to re-introduce myself. “I’m the woman who urged you to advertise at the Farmer’s Market. Looks like you are doing well.”  But I didn’t.

I never ordered anything from him again. But I didn’t delete his emails either. Maybe because I felt a special connection to his success. This past week I took note how much the menu has grown, how colorful and tempting the items appeared and especially, the addition of a story written by his wife about traveling with friends to the North Carolina beaches, including pictures of him and his wife, and a mention of children.

In the “About” section, he wrote that he had started out ten years ago. Yep, just when I met him. He moved out of his kitchen and now creates a greatly expanded menu in a brick and mortar building with a staff of 50. His delivery area still includes Raleigh where I live.

I doubt that my baker ever thinks of that older woman who started a sign-in sheet at his booth at the Farmer’s Market so many years ago. I’m planning to order something from the varied menu this week. Am I owed a discount? Or do I just enjoy the thought I may have made some tiny contribution to his success. I could live with that.