Owning a bakery has turned out to be one of the greatest, as well as most difficult, things in my life. Each morning starts out with coffee, some home-made artesian, and the dawning of the apron. I’m telling you, this thing has more kitchen war stories than most cookbooks have recipes. It’s been, slashed, shredded, chewed, and more but the one time that stands out the most was when it caught fire. No, it wasn’t a bad fire or anything, actually pretty tame when you think about, but the story was pretty funny.
I was catering desserts at a formal event and had just set out the last dish underneath the commissary tent. Everything was going perfect and looked so nice that I had a moment to take it all in. Then I smelled something burning. I looked down to see that an edge of my apron had been playing with a chaffing burner. I went wide eyed and slapped it a few times to put it out then played it off like nothing happened and walked away. The only thing that hurt was pride.
