Reflections on the 2024 Farmer’s Market Season

Boy, this one was a doozy. I’ve never been this busy or stressed or exhausted in my life, and yet I’ve also never been more fulfilled.

At the end of May 2024, I quit my full-time job in clinical research to pursue this bakery business full time. It was the start of my fourth season of farmer’s markets and I’d been preparing to take the leap for a long time.

At the end of the 2023 season, it became clear to me that I couldn’t keep growing my bakery and working full time for someone else. I did one Saturday market every other weekend and took Fridays off before that market to prepare. Call that 32 hours a week of “normal” employment, plus another 25-30 hours of manual labor for the market.

It was too much. I burned out. When markets ended, my sourdough starter sat in my fridge for two months before I could bring myself to use it again. My body and my brain hit a wall. Something had to change.

Sometimes the starter gets too excited, even in the fridge.

I spent a long time preparing for the transition, going back and forth on whether it was the right time, whether I had enough money saved, whether it would be worth it to take the risk. In a way, the decision was easy: I had gotten that job in the first place so I could have a steady income and invest in my business, so obviously my business had to take priority. At the same time, I had never quit a job before. I was laid off twice within a year as a fairly new college graduate, which taught me that jobs are something to be held onto for dear life, lest they slip out from under you like a rug on a wood floor. I was afraid of being financially insecure and completely reliant on my own actions for my livelihood. What if I fell into a deep depression and got stuck there? What if I didn’t have the grit to “make it” as an entrepreneur? What if I hated the word “entrepreneur”?

In the end, though, it was a simple decision to make. I’d read enough blog posts and articles from people older than myself to know that I would regret not taking my future into my own hands. Too many people wait until they’re “absolutely certain” to start something new or really “go for it” in their lives. Too many people wait until it’s too late and never end up doing what they really want.

I’m in a very privileged position as a 27-year-old. I graduated college with far less debt than the average graduate does these days, and with a degree that doesn’t bind me to any one field. I lived rather cheaply in the Bay Area once I got a job there, and then with family for free for the first 6 months of the pandemic. My landlord is a family friend who lets me run my business in the house. My only dependent is a skittish orange cat. I’m healthy and able-bodied. I could afford to take the risk, so I did.

At the Park Union farmer’s market on a Sunday after a Spring Preview market. 

I hit the ground running into self-employment. I drove directly from my last-ever day at my job to the pre-season vendor meeting for the Backyard Market in Black Forest. I ran the Denver half-marathon that Sunday. After that, exhausted and with severely blistered feet, I had four days to prepare for my first baking day of the summer season. I baked and measured and wrapped and labeled, with the help of my employee and my partner, from 5am to 9pm that Friday.

On Saturday morning, I sold out of everything in 2 and a half hours.

I spent the month of June running. It seemed I was always short on flour, nothing stayed clean for long enough, and the grind felt great. I was perpetually exhausted and neglecting self-care, but I was doing it! I was really doing it! In June I made more money than I would have at my full-time job, which felt affirming and hopeful. (The numbers definitely reassured my dad, who was mainly worried about my survival, as dads tend to be.)

I worked myself into the ground in June, and it paid off. All my preparation and practice had yielded a strong start to the season.

Mini sourdough focaccias ready to be removed from the pan and packaged.

July started with a bit of a break. My partner and I took a road trip to visit my best friend in Kentucky and their family in Wisconsin. I had a week and a half away from baking. I could finally take some time for myself. With the bakery in my house, it was easy to do snippets of work when I was supposed to be resting, but there was no work to be done away from home.

While we were in Wisconsin, my grandmother in California passed away. She’d had cancer for several years by that point, was bedbound for a year, and yet it was still a shock to be told she was gone. Grieving my grandma has been strange, an unexpected yet unsurprising sigh of relief. I returned home to the bakery and almost immediately had to leave again to attend her memorial service in California.

My grandma Joyce in 2019

I returned home again to the news that I had been missed! Kelly, manager of the Larkspur Farmer’s Market, told me that people had emailed and messaged and come up to her asking where I was for those few weeks I was gone. They came to the market specifically for my bread, she said, and they asked her when I would be back!

Expanding up to Larkspur was a big risk for me this season. I didn’t already have a customer base there, and the market was only in its second season. I figured since I had joined the Backyard Market in its second season also, Larkspur might be a good way to expand my customer base and get in on the ground floor of a newer market, so to speak. I hadn’t been able to do a Wednesday market since my first year. I had no idea how it would go.

Wednesdays were my toughest days. For one thing, I didn’t have an assistant like I did on Fridays. I got up to turn on my oven at 4am and started working at 5am. I sometimes had an hour between everything being packaged and ready to go, and actually having to load my car and leave, but aside from that one lunch hour I worked from 5am to around 8pm every Wednesday.

Driving home after the last Larkspur market of the season.

When I signed up for the Larkspur Farmer’s Market, I wasn’t thinking about afternoon thunderstorms. Oops! Thankfully there weren’t too many, and we only got fully rained out twice. I do think I need a new tent canopy, though. I got dripped on enough to tell that much.

The people of Larkspur impressed me by showing up even when it was raining. People took refuge under my tent and still bought bread. I was grateful to the people who showed up for their local makers despite the weather. We all worked so hard to get there, and the community that showed up in bad weather made me feel like my work was seen and appreciated. It’s not easy getting up at 4am!

Taking loaves out of the Rofco B40 for a market.

August saw a return to routine and a bit more leisure time. I did the Larkspur Farmer’s Market every Wednesday and the Backyard Market in Black Forest every other Saturday instead of every Saturday. Thus, August was a bit less hectic than June. I could spend weekends away from the “office” and enjoy the summertime a bit. I could make up for the weeks of sleep deprivation a little at a time. I could start thinking again instead of running on autopilot. I sent out my first monthly newsletter on September first.

I expected the season to slow down when school started, but I sold out more regularly in August and September than previous months. I actually had to bake more than I had been bringing for the last few Larkspur markets because I kept selling out early and people were disappointed to miss out. (There went the extra lunch hour!) It was a good problem to have.

Grilled cheese made with a sourdough sandwich-style loaf (coming soon!)

Now as the summer season comes to a full close, I’m able to slow down and reflect on what a whirlwind it’s been. I’m much happier than I was five months ago. I’m more fulfilled. I have more energy to experiment and more brainpower to write. I’m grateful for all the encouragement I’ve received, this year and in years past. I’m grateful to my coworkers who wished me well before I left my job. I’m grateful to my assistant baker whose labor allowed me to pause for meals on market prep days. I’m grateful to my partner who boiled nearly every single bagel and hauled heavy totes full of bread on market mornings, and who has always reassured me that I can make this work.

And of course, my business wouldn’t exist without you, the bread enthusiasts who showed up week after week and whose support allowed me to make this my full-time job.

Freshly baked sourdough everything bagels, boiled by my partner and seasoned by me.

I don’t know what the next few years hold for my bakery. To be honest, it’s hard to think beyond next month. So, for the foreseeable future, I’ll be baking, experimenting, learning, writing, creating, and above all using my time in ways I can finally control. I’ve taken charge of my own life.

You can continue to support me by ordering bread for weekly porch pickup, attending a holiday market, or signing up for my monthly newsletter.

Thank you for being here!

-Lidia