When Life Gives You Lemons Whip Them Up Into Something Magical

I have this memory, I must be about seven or eight years old and I’m standing on a small plastic crate. My hands are resting on the metal edge of a warm stove and I’m peeking over the side of a pot that contains what I know will be one of the most delicious meals of my life. He is sitting next to me, calmly instructing my every move, “next you want to slowly pour in some water because we don’t want it to be dry.” I remember feeling as if this was the most important task I would ever be given, dry meat, even at a young age was something I knew no one wanted. He continued to give me instructions until he said “ok, now we wait.” I put the lid on the pot and I anxiously looked at him, waiting to hear what to do while we waited for the feast that was being cooked when he pulled out a deck of cards and asked if I was in the mood for a game. As we played I could smell everything from the kitchen, it kept distracting me while I tried to give the best poker face a seven year old could muster. When he thought it was time to check on the meat I went running over to the stove, took my rightful place on the crate and slowly lifted the lid to our masterpiece that we created together. I wish I could say it looked beautiful, that it had the same elegance as the food which graces most gourmet magazines but the truth was it looked exactly like it was, some sort of stew. The smell however, was the most delicious scent I have ever been lucky enough to enjoy and I instantly knew that I would love whatever was in that pot. I knew our meal would need a stir but I knew he wouldn’t let me do that task, “not yet” he would always say when I asked, I knew he was scared I’d somehow burn myself and he loved me too much to risk that. My grandfather then did something that has stayed with me all these years, he pushed himself out of the wheelchair he had spent most of my life in and stood upright by the stove. I knew it hurt him, even as young as I was I could see the strain in his eyes, but as he looked at our work of art he had the same excitement in his eyes as I did. I remember later that evening telling my parents what I did with my grandfather and when they asked what we cooked, I had no answer, I had never thought to ask. My response was simple, “I don’t know, but it was delicious!”

I always come back to that memory when I’m having a long day at work, it’s easy to think of that memory and know that this was where my life would eventually lead. I was attending Rutgers University, attempting to graduate and become a special needs and elementary school teacher. I love children, my reason for pursuing a career in teaching is as simple as that. Then my classes started and while my love for children is still as strong today as it was then, I felt the desire to stand in a classroom day after day for the rest of my life starting to drift away.  I remember the exact moment I decided to go to culinary school. I was sitting in the commuter parking lot on campus, prolonging the inevitable walk to where I was taking my Psychology class, and I was crying. I kept thinking how walking into that building was the last thing I wanted to do, and to make matters worse a song was playing on the radio where the chorus was, “this is your life, are you who you want to be?” I knew the answer was no, so in typical dramatic form I whipped out my notebook and thought I would l make a list of everything that interests me and try pursuing one of them. I had pen and paper in hand and one thought came to mind, “I want to cook.” The second that thought came into my mind, I stopped crying, it was as if my heart finally said the words I had been too scared to say. I came home that night and researched the best culinary schools in the area and booked a tour at The Institute of Culinary Education two days later. I remember being on that tour and feeling more comfortable walking through the hallways surrounded by kitchens than I had ever felt in any classroom throughout my life. Before I left that day I was officially registered for the next session of classes taking both the culinary course and the restaurant management course. My next task: tell my parents!  Dropping out of a respectable college to pursue a culinary career went over with my parents probably as well as one would assume, but eventually they chose to support my choice instead of fight against it.

Within a year I was done with school and looking for a job, while everyone was impressed with where I went to school and the recommendation letters I received from my teachers, I kept hearing the same response: “We’re looking for someone with a minimum of two years work experience.” I had been working for what felt like my entire life at that time, I started working before the legal age of sixteen and never looked back, unfortunately the work experience I had all fell into great experience for the teaching career I never pursued. Aside from the classroom I had never stepped foot in an actual kitchen and that was hurting my chances at getting a job. I kept hitting the pavement looking for places further and further than where I lived and no one would take me seriously. Eventually a friend of mine mentioned I try a different approach, instead of looking for jobs in the restaurant field maybe I should try other areas of the food industry. I decided to try baking, part of our course load while in school consisted of a few weeks learning pastry recipes and I remember loving every moment of it. My chef instructor at the time relentlessly pushed me to pursue the pastry arts instead and he would jokingly tease my culinary instructor that he would bring me to “the other side” or the food world, he was one of the first people I told when I received the job of assistant decorator at Mazurs Bakery.

My morning started at four o'clock and once we clocked in we were all up and running. The bakery was a well known establishment that even my family frequented often, known for their delicious Italian pastries. I realized while working there that it didn’t matter if the ingredients I was working with were savory or sweet, I would love it all just the same. Mazurs is still to this day, one of the biggest bakeries in New Jersey, we catered to the local supermarkets and restaurants, and even did all the cakes for Yankee Stadium. We worked long hours, and during the holidays eighteen hour shifts were completely normal. We would fill hundreds upon hundred of cannoli’s, cut dozens of trays of brownies, and our more accomplished decorators produced dozens of tiered wedding cakes in one day. I loved it all, but only for a short time. I quickly learned that while mass production was great for business, I enjoyed the more detailed work. I realized that I wanted to make desserts on a smaller scale and focus more on the taste and less on the design. After two years at Mazurs I began to look for work elsewhere. 

A friend of mine sent me a wanted ad for a small bakery looking for a cake decorator and I decided to apply. During my interview I was asked to partake in a small decorating demo with their current decorator so we could see if their style of frosting cupcakes was something I could manage. It took a little while to understand a completely foreign technique but I had the job before I left. I remember feeling excited about how small the bakery was, thrilled that they only used all natural ingredients and baked everything fresh everyday, and completely confused as to why someone would paint an entire bakery pink! I started working as the assistant decorator, the more I worked, the faster I became and the easier it was to take on new responsibilities. After six months I became the Head Decorator, six months later I also took on the role of Assistant Baker. My days consisted of baking and decorating cupcakes, making frosting, prepping work for the next day, and of course running to answer the phone or help a customer whenever the help was needed. The bakery kept growing and I was excited to see where it was headed. Two years after I was promoted to Assistant Baker the position of Head Baker became available and I took on the responsibility of producing all of our baked goods for our customers, something I was completely terrified to do because I never actually took any pastry classes  aside from the few weeks during my culinary program in school. Somehow along the way I figured it all out and became Sugar + Sunshine Bakery’s Manager and first ever Special Event Coordinator. I started hosting cupcake decorating classes on the weekends when we were closed and we started booking children’s birthday parties where I was able to spend an afternoon with them showing the children what “A day in the life of a baker” looked like. 

On a sunny Saturday almost one year ago the owner of Sugar + Sunshine Bakery walked into the shop and asked if I was free to go for a walk with her. I instantly went into panic mode and as we strolled over to where we would sit and have our chat I could feel my heartbeat get faster and faster in anticipation as to what was coming. Once we sat down she looked me in the eye and very casually said, “My husband and I have been talking and we wanted to know if you would like to be the owner of the bakery.” I was completely shocked, she explained that he was getting transferred to another state for work and she would obviously be going with him. She knew she wouldn’t be able to run the business from so far away and that it had been a long standing dream of mine to own my own bakery. We talked and talked and then talked some more, the shock never quite wearing off. She explained that while she knew I needed to think about it and how it would change my life, that there was a deadline on the decision. She expected all transactions that needed to take place in order to make the transfer permanent to happen within the next three months. When asked what would happen if I declined her offer, she explained that she would need to close down the shop. My options: take over the bakery I had worked at for the past five years, or quickly be unemployed along with all of my coworkers. It seemed like an easy decision but still one I needed to take the time and decide.  

With the complete support of my immediate family and a very small handful of friends who knew, I decided that I could become the owner and make the place truly mine with a few fresh coats of paint and some new furniture, like I said earlier - the entire place was pink. I know there are people in the world who purchase businesses for a living, I am clearly not one of those people. Very early on it was obvious that I had absolutely no idea what I was doing and I needed help, I needed an attorney and an accountant and they both said something to me that has helped me over the past year, “It’s ok if you don’t know something, that is why you have people who work for you who do.” Once I realized that it was not my responsibility, but the responsibility of my attorney to understand every word of legal jargon throughout a contract I was able to enjoy the process a little more. 

I started to plan the changes I would make so whenever someone walked through the door they would instantly feel comfortable to stay and get their work done or catch up with a friend while eating something delicious. I knew the menu wouldn’t change, it would simply grow. I knew the structure of the location would stay intact, the warmth of the place would simply change. These were all decisions that were easy to make, making them a reality took a little more time and a lot more money. Once the final contract was approved by all parties the easiest part was signing on the dotted line, then came the hard work. The very first weekend that the bakery was officially mine I had my immediate family, and four friends in there with me all weekend reorganizing and painting. The entire experience was surreal and as everything changed it all started to feel more natural to walk into my office and answer emails without expecting my boss to ask when I would be getting back to work. I know for an absolute fact I would not have been able to accomplish any of this without the emotional and financial support of my family. 

They say it takes a few years when you take over a new business to start to see a financial reward and I am here to tell you that is completely and absolutely true. I knew there would be sacrifices, but those sacrifices are easy to expect until it’s been months since you’ve been able to travel to see your best friend and you feel like all you do is, sleep, go to work, and sleep again. The bakery has been mine for almost eight months now and I am just now starting to get into a rhythm of how it all works, and how I can have some form of a life outside of the walls of my super tiny kitchen. It has been the greatest learning experience of my life in many ways, but mostly in learning that with the right support system and with complete faith in yourself and what the universe has planned for you, you can do absolutely anything.  

People ask me all the time where I get inspiration from and where I see the business going. The answer to the first question is simple, I find inspiration in everything I see and taste. I love food, so when I peel an orange I am thinking how delicious it would taste sliced and added to ice water, how I can add it to a chicken dish to give it a sweet citrus taste, and of course how delicious orange buttercream tastes. I look for color in all of my food, and nothing makes me happier than when I have a rainbow on my plate. As for where I see the business going, as the owner I would love to say “locations in every city, I want everyone to know about Sugar + Sunshine Bakery,” but life is never really that simple. I understand deeply that everything is temporary and times and trends change as quickly as the seasons, maybe there will be a time when freshly baked, all natural blueberry muffins and not what everyone wants for breakfast. I hope that this time won’t come anytime soon but it is always there in the back of my mind, to treasure the time that I have with this dream of mine because too many chefs have had to turn the “closed” sign on their door permanently no matter how hard they have worked. What I do know is that I walk into that building every day and think “This is mine,” and that is a beautiful feeling. I have employees who support every decision I make and work harder than anyone I know to support my dream. I have family who have spent most of their weekends over the past few months painting and redecorating with me to help make my dream a reality. For all of these things I am more grateful than I could ever imagine, because of all of this it’s hard to plan for the future and dare ask for more than I already have been given. So instead, I will say to the question of where do I see myself in five years, happy, healthy, and hopefully making something delicious in a kitchen somewhere.