Baking the Unexpected

You know what’s hilarious? I naively thought, at the beginning of this beautiful adventure, that I’d actually have the time to keep up with writing a blog. I imagined my bakery Saturdays looking like this: me practicing frosting techniques while a couple of local farmers played cards in the dining room, occasionally refilling coffee cups and handing out samples of my latest cookie experiment. Then I’d head home around 2 p.m., kick off my heels (HEELS! HA!), and open my laptop to document the recipe discovery of the week.

Needless to say, that hasn’t been the reality of Paper Moon—and I love it all the more for that.

Instead, the past few years have been thousands of hours of making, baking, serving, and tasting out of this little shop. I’ve stood longer in one day than I thought humanly possible. I’ve felt the overwhelming joy of seeing a new customer come back for a second week in a row, and the inevitable disappointment of a recipe flop.

But my favorite part, above all else, is the kindness and support this community has shown. Not just Cortland, but the broader community of customers who meet us where we are each week. Old and new, they come through the door with an infectious warmth that makes every ounce of effort worth it.

When the bakery was just a daydream, I knew that above all else (besides serving tasty treats and occasionally making cakes that look like people, ha!), I wanted to create a space that felt like a little blip of light in a world that can seem overwhelmingly dark. After talking with thousands of people in my career as a therapist, one truth became unavoidable: loneliness is everywhere. We’re more connected than ever, and somehow lonelier than ever too.

I’ll never forget what one client told me: “I don’t think I matter at all sometimes. I went to the grocery store today, and even the cashier wouldn’t make the stereotypical small talk with me. It’s lonely out here.”

When you stop and really take in the state of the world, it can feel paralyzing. But what I learned from those conversations is that kindness can ripple through a community. A genuine smile, a moment of small talk, a little spark of human connection—those things can change the course of someone’s day. And trust me, there are so many people quietly carrying struggles you’ll never see.

So I told myself: if I ever opened a bakery, it would be a place where people could feel welcome. Not just as customers or sales, but as human beings first. A place where kindness is practiced and connections happen naturally.

The best part? That vision hasn’t just been met, it’s been exceeded by all of you. Our team has seen customers introduce themselves to strangers in line, hold the door for one another, even buy treats for the person behind them. I’ve lost count of the moments like that, but each one inspires me.

So maybe I don’t even know exactly what I’m trying to say here, except thank you. Thank you for walking through our doors, for supporting us, and for supporting each other. And if you’ve never visited us yet, just remember: the cinnamon rolls are sweet, but the real magic is the kindness that fills this place. A smile, a kind word, even a shared cookie—it all ripples farther than you might think.

Thank you for helping me turn a little daydream into something that truly matters. See you soon. 💛