When a young baker leaves to open a high street bakery.

(published January 2000)

I get calls from students and young bakers thinking of opening a small craft bakery on their local high street, and before too long I’m digging through files, giving them the names of small artisanal equipment manufacturers, independent mills, God knows, any contact that might help them make it happen. Yes, I should try and make more of an effort to explain the joys of working on the plant of an industrial bakery, but when I do I feel like the careers teacher at my old school, warning me away from a life as a professional magician (I’d be in the Magic Circle by now, probably).

But there was a time when small independent bakers in England used to be admired, or so I’m told. Like the small grocer and the butcher, small bakeries on the high street helped give the town a heart and a focus. Do you remember carrying a warm farmhouse loaf back from the local bakery, or staring through the glass at the butchers at the cuts of meat neatly displayed? By the end of the last decade there were few small high street bakeries left, the butchers and corner stores all but gone, and wistful talk almost all that remained.

I guess my hope is that with help and advice these young bakers might do well, and not fail. My own mistakes and failures still burn at the front of my mind, though in retrospect they probably helped strengthen my resolve. The high rents for property, the investment of both time and money needed, and the dedication required to run a high street independent take their toll on new businesses each year. It is so tempting to try and persuade them not to tread the path I took in the beginning. But they may sense a market that I cannot see, and have a clear vision of how they will succeed. Though galling it might be to our pride and experience, the enterprise and initiative of these bakers will allow some to succeed where we have failed.

The criteria that these young bakers will need to apply to the financial needs of their bakery business will vary little from the practices over the last 30 years. Here we can offer the best support. However the market that practice applies to has changed. Different tastes and opinions influence other generations, and our children have desires and demands that make our own childhood seem other worldly. We know already that they have a different view on the value of excellence and the price they are willing to pay for it. These values can be seen in the clothes they wear, food they choose to eat, and indeed, in the bread they choose to purchase.

You probably know there are many young bakers that don’t read this magazine, have no desire to belong to the National Association or have even heard of the Worshipful Company, but will successfully carve new businesses for themselves in our baking industry. Eventually they will mellow and become an active part of this magazine, the union and possibly even join that other, more venerable league of gentleman baker. The model for their new business will centre on an acceptance of their generation’s tastes in food, and they will reflect this in the bread they bake.

Watch, be careful and offer support to these bakers as they enter the craft out of desire, rather than necessity. I know many of you will, but in my own experience met many more who would crush a new idea given the chance. If we choose to ignore them after they leave and set up on there own, they will remain an small movement or more likely lose the impetus altogether; but if we bring them close and listen to the view they have of the market, we can invigorate baking in Britain, protecting both our futures and create a sustainable industry for future generations. Small businesses act as a catalyst for change in industry. New life into craft baking will help change the public’s perception of bread and teach the consumer to recognise and support baking excellence.