
Nia Pell
Head baker
Nia loads the oven at five and still argues with the starter about hydration. She has been here since the first week.
Tue–Fri 7:00–17:00
Order aheadSince 2016
We are a small bakehouse that takes bread seriously and itself a little less so. The oven is older than the sign. The sign is fine.

Head baker
Nia loads the oven at five and still argues with the starter about hydration. She has been here since the first week.

Pastry
Jonah laminates whilst the rest of us are asleep. He judges a croissant by the sound it makes, which is annoying and usually right.

Coffee and the counter
Samira runs the dial-in and remembers who takes oat milk. If the queue is long, she is the reason it still feels calm.
Our country loaf starts with flour from a mill we can drive to in a morning. The bag says the field, not a slogan.
The dough is mixed the afternoon before. Nobody rushes it. That is the whole trick, and it is not a secret.
The counter is for the lane. Workshops, cake orders and the Saturday queue all fit around the people who walk here.
Sample figures, not a report
Bread, pastry, cakes and the savouries, yes. We do not pretend the butter is churned on Fennel Lane. The flour for the country loaf is from a mill we can name if you ask.
Yes: a jar on the bench since 2016. Nia feeds it on the same schedule, even on Mondays when the door is shut.
Say so when you order. Almond croissant and pecan slice always contain nuts. Carrot cake has walnuts unless the order says otherwise. The bench is not a nut-free room.
The dough still works on Sunday night, but the people do not. Monday is for the mill order, the starter, and not talking to anyone.
A site like this one, shaped around your counter, your menu and the Saturday queue.