What 2025 Taught Me From the Cottage Kitchen

January always slows me down in the best way.

The decorations are packed away, the calendar feels lighter, and the kitchen is quieter before the day begins. There’s coffee brewing instead of timers going off, and for a few moments before the house wakes, there’s space to think.

Last year was my first full year running Sweet & Savory as a business. It was full ovens, full schedules, and days that stretched longer than I planned. There were wins I’ll always be proud of, and lessons I only learned by doing things the hard way. Some days felt strong. Others felt messy. Most were somewhere in between.

January gives me room to pause — not to stop, but to steady myself before moving forward again.

A Year of Learning as I Went

There were late nights and early mornings. Orders that didn’t rise the way I hoped. Missed timelines. Moments where motherhood, schedules, and business collided all at once — and I wasn’t sure which role needed me most in that moment.

I learned quickly that running a bakery isn’t just about baking. It’s about planning, communicating, adapting, and showing up even when things don’t go perfectly. It’s about learning how much you can realistically carry — and being honest when something has to give.

Some weeks were about growth. Others were about simply getting through. Both mattered.

The Moments That Changed Everything

There were moments last year that marked real milestones — the kind that made me stop and realize how far this bakery had come.

One of the most meaningful was baking for my alma mater, York College of Pennsylvania. Standing there, delivering bread to the place where I once walked as a student, felt full-circle in a way I didn’t expect. It wasn’t just about the order — it was about recognizing that something that started small had grown into something trusted and real.

Last year also brought the first Sweet & Savory Bakery Cart Social — an idea I wasn’t sure would translate beyond my head. It did. People came. They lingered. They talked, laughed, and shared bread. What started as a simple gathering turned into real community, and I’d love to host another social this spring — slower, intentional, and rooted in connection.

Vendor events were another learning curve — loading and unloading, setting up before sunrise, figuring out what works, what doesn’t, and how to show up confidently in new spaces. Each one taught me something new about pacing, preparation, and trust.

Wins Worth Naming

Some of last year’s wins were quieter — but no less important.

This was my first full year truly running Sweet & Savory as a business, and one of the biggest accomplishments was finding my footing. Learning what I can take on, what needs to be adjusted, and how to keep showing up without burning everything down in the process.

There was growth that didn’t come with announcements — returning customers who trusted me week after week, word of mouth that traveled farther than I ever expected, and a steadiness that slowly replaced early uncertainty.

There were also firsts I never expected to see so soon — my first out-of-state orders. Packages from this little cottage bakery made their way to Massachusetts, Oregon, Georgia, and Virginia, each one carefully packed and sent with a mix of excitement and disbelief. Knowing that something made here was shared at tables so far beyond home was humbling in the best way.

And somewhere in the middle of the year, I did something I’d been holding close for a long time — I started writing the book. Not with a launch plan or deadlines, but quietly and honestly. Pages filled in between baking days and family life as I began putting words to a story that’s been taking shape for years.

That felt like a win worth naming.

The Life That Holds the Bakery

Last year wasn’t only about the bakery.

I’m a wife, too — and building Sweet & Savory happens inside a life that already holds marriage, family, schedules, and shared dreams. Learning how to grow something while staying present to the people around me has been just as much a part of the work as anything that came out of the oven.

The homestead grew alongside the bakery. The garden expanded. The rhythms of growing food, tending animals, and working the land continued to shape how I think about nourishment — not just what we eat, but how we live. This spring, we’re welcoming goats, adding another layer to the life we’re building here, one intentional step at a time.

None of it is separate. The bakery, the garden, the marriage, the home — they all feed into one another.

Getting Back Into Rhythm

As 2026 begins, my focus is simple: getting back into rhythm.

The bakery is open again after the holiday pause. The ovens are warm, the stand is stocked weekly, and winter baking looks a little quieter — slower, more intentional. Fewer offerings. More care. One week at a time.

This year, I’d also love to share more of this process visually — bringing recipes to life through short videos, behind-the-scenes moments, and simple how-to’s from the cottage kitchen. Less polish. More real.

A Thank You, Truly

If you’ve supported Sweet & Savory in any way — by placing an order, stopping at the stand, sharing a loaf, or simply reading along — thank you.

You’ve helped make this first full year possible. You’ve allowed this bakery to exist, grow, and find its footing. And I don’t take that lightly.

January feels like a pause before the ovens fully warm back up again — a moment to reflect before stepping forward.

And I’m grateful to be here — still baking, still learning, and getting back into rhythm.