The Strawberry Baker

Once upon a time (but also not too long ago), there was a girl who lived in a town that moved a little too fast.

While others chased bigger and louder dreams, she stood at her stove and browned her butter until the nutty aroma filled the kitchen. She crushed strawberries with her mortar and pestle before folding them into doughs and batters with careful hands.

People asked, “Wouldn’t it be easier to do it the simple way?”

But she wasn’t building something easy.

She was building something hers.

In her small cottage, early mornings were spent handwriting labels, and recipes were tested over and over again until they felt just right. She learned that courage isn’t perfection, no, it’s trying first, and perfecting later.

This strawberry baker didn’t grow her little shop overnight. She grew it batch by batch, market by market, and story by story.

And each time someone takes a bite from one of her cookies and swoons, she’s reminded that the late nights and sore backs are worth it for when that little bit of magic gets shared.