Rosie Daykin - Butter Baked Goods: Nostalgic Recipes From a Little Neighborhood Bakery

Copyright 2013 Rosie Daykin
Photography copyright 2013 Janis Nicolay

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ISBN: 978-0-449-01583-4
eBook ISBN: 978-0-449-01584-1

Cover and book design: Kelly Hill
Cover and author photograph: Janis Nicolay

Published by Appetite by Random House, a division of Random House of Canada Limited

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v3.1

To Paul and India,

my mostly companions.

You are my home,

my love, my life.

Have you ever wondered what your personal theme song would be if you had one? I remember the day my husband, Paul, introduced me to mine, a wonderful song by Guy Clark called The Cape. The chorus goes something like: Life is just a leap of faith, spread your arms, hold your breath, and always trust your cape. Paul felt this summed me up perfectly. I am not sure if this says I am bold, or fearless, or just plain nuts, but so far the cape is holding! I am known to be true to my word: If I say I am going to do something, I always dowell, almost always. Okay, sometimes I skip that exercise class or forget to sign up for Italian lessons, but the big stuff, the life-changing stuff, I follow through on. So when I was six and announced that I was one day going to own a bakery (actually, I think I said donut shop, but lets not split hairs), I already had a plan.

By six years old I was a keen baker, turning out the Six-Minute Cake (a one-bowl chocolate cake with the magic ingredient of vinegar) almost daily. I grew up in a busy household with three siblings. Our home was abuzz with family, friends and pets galore, so finding some unsuspecting victim to feed my creations to wasnt much of a challenge. Fortunately, my baking skills improved dramatically with all that practice and I eventually mastered a wide range of cookies, cakes, bars and pies. I loved nothing more than being in the kitchen, surrounded by bowls and beaters covered in the remnants of batter, waitingimpatientlyfor the moment I could pull something warm and delicious from the oven.

Life carried on and I grew older. Paul and I met, fell madly in love and were married in 1989. Three years later I gave birth to our daughter, the lovely Miss India Rose. Life was hectic, working and raising a child, but I could always find solace in the kitchen. I had by then become quite a successful interior designer, but I still found myself daydreaming of the day I could make a living baking cakes and cookies to my hearts content. It is hard to express (but, I think, simple enough to understand) the immense happiness I get when just the act of sharing something I enjoy brings someone else the same happiness. I couldnt imagine a more satisfying way to spend my day.

As with most things in my life, opening Butter Baked Goods was all about timing and my well-honed gut feeling. I saw the need in the marketplace for what I was creating at home: simple homemade treats with no additives or preservatives. Nothing all tricked up, just real food like I remembered as a child. I knew of nowhere in my city to purchase a classic chocolate layer cake piled high with butter cream and multi-colored sprinkles, a cake just waiting for birthday candles and a scoop of vanilla ice cream. And I just knew that if I was looking for it, others would be too. I was aware of how much time, attention and energy this new venture would take. (Actually, I thought I knew, but I was way off. It took so much more.) I had spent a lifetime planning the bakery inside my head, and one morning I woke and knew the time had come. Fortunately, I had the support of my family and friends, who were all there to help me breathe life into my dream. If the Amish have barn raisings, well, this was a bakery raising. And so Butter Baked Goods was born.

I came up with the name for Butter before the bakery was a reality. I love the creative process of naming things. A name can tell you so much about a person or place and, if chosen with care, I think it can help form the very person or place it represents. When Paul and I were choosing names for our soon-to-be-born baby I was confident a little girl was headed our way. When I envisioned a woman named India Rose I had this picture in my head of a woman in the 1930s standing next to her plane, goggles on and ready to fly. This woman was someone bold and fearless, yet feminine and funny. Today my India Rose is all those things and more. The name for Butter came to me just as clearly. For me, it represents something real, pure and honest. With that one word you know what we are all about. It speaks of a quality of baking that many of us grew up with, and of our nostalgia for that. And it speaks to a trust and dependability that we sometimes find ourselves searching for in this crazy world.

With my background in interior design, I had a definite vision of how Butter should feel and look to reflect the kind of baking I wanted to create. I wanted it to be comfortable and warm, a spot to chitchat with neighbors, celebrate milestones, or pick you up after a bad day. I wasnt looking for shiny and new but something a little worn and familiar. The first time I crossed the threshold of 4321 Dunbar Street, I knew I had found Butters home. The space had been a bakery since 1923, and Im pretty sure that that was the last time the windows had been cleaned! It was a total train wreck, so old and filthy that whenever I met someone who told me they used to shop there, I silently wondered how they had survived to tell the tale. Yet underneath it all I saw a gem. It was the screen door that did it. Original to the space, it was wide and solid and welcoming, and the first thing you touched when entering the building. It made the same wonderful sound I remembered as a kid when running into the house for dinner. That forgivable slam that says, Im home. It was everything I wanted Butter to be, and I was sure that the moment my customers pulled on the handle, they would feel the same way. I wanted every nook and cranny of Butter to welcome my customers and make them smilefrom the pale pink ceiling and the black and white checkerboard pattern of the floor, right down to the little iron Scotty dog named Mr. Sweaters who acts as our doorstop, gatekeeper and self-appointed mascot. I made sure there was a big opening between the bakerys storefront and the kitchen so anyone who came in could see what we were up to. We didnt have any secrets, and I wanted to be able to say hello to customers as I iced cakes and rolled dough.