Baking, like most food preparation, is a geographically centered act. One word for this is terroir. Bakers are ever aware of how the particular climates they bake in affect every aspect of daily production, from the humidity or dryness of the air to the way the unique soil of a place affects and flavors the crops which grow, which in turn feed the chickens and cows that produce eggs and milk. In baking, regionality is everything. You can share a recipe online, but you can’t bake that recipe anywhere other than the real world.
When bakers decide to move, it’s somewhat of a profound decision because of the amount of control they must give up. The climates and ingredients that once were familiar and comfortable are traded for foreign climates and unfamiliar ingredients. There’s an element of recognition that some once-seemingly-effortless recipes will probably feel a bit bumpy during the adjustment period. But there’s also excitement about the possibility of discovering new ingredients, new flavors, and new kindred souls.
I think the craft of baking is stuck between a rock and a hard place. Climate change is quickly making many parts of the world uninhabitable and forcing large-scale migration. Advancements in technology allow many people to work remotely from anywhere in the world, enabling them to travel as they want to or must. But a loaf of bread cannot be shared over a Zoom call, and AI can’t bake a birthday cake. As long as humans rely on food, and as long as food comes from the ground, baking will remain an act that is tied to the land.
When Mauricio and I left North Carolina for New York City, climate change was certainly in the back of our minds. Summers were getting hotter, and the longer growing seasons and milder winters meant pollen levels were getting out of control. As someone who suffers from environmental allergies, seeing the world turn yellow for a few weeks was rather upsetting. At the time we left, we knew we were making the right decision long-term, but we never considered how quickly climate change would devastate parts of our home state. Last year we watched Hurricane Helene wash away much of Asheville, and we followed along on Instagram as our favorite restaurants and breweries struggled to rebuild. Just yesterday we saw the footage of the record flooding Chantal caused in parts of Chapel Hill, Carrboro, Durham, and Saxapahaw, including in the apartment complex where we used to live.
I think everyone will experience a moment where climate change stops being an ethereal future conundrum and starts being a present moment crisis. Mauricio and I experienced this moment from the safety of our smartphones in our New York City apartment. Not everyone is so lucky.
Now, we’re moving again. We got a fantastic offer totally out-of-the-blue to relocate our bakery to Vermont. It was an easy decision, but it was also a very hard decision. The air is different, the soil is different, the people are different. We’re prepared to be humbled when our bakes are affected by the new environment in ways we can’t predict. We’re prepared to become familiar with the ingredients that are grown from Vermont soils. In short, we’re prepared to learn it all again.
Once more, climate change was a major consideration for us as we decided to make this move. Manhattan is a concrete island, threatened by sea-level rise. As the east coast gets wetter, the underground infrastructure becomes less of a feat of 20th century engineering and more of a liability. A big city like New York is dependent on soft infrastructure as well, and the budget cuts of the current administration don’t exactly instill confidence in the city’s ability to plan for and respond to climate disasters.
Will Vermont be a safer place from which to watch the global temperatures rise by two degrees Celsius? In many ways, yes. But no place on Earth will be free from the worst effects of the climate crisis. All Mauricio and I can do is the same thing we’ve always done: bake bread for the people we love and the community we live in. Baking is and always will be a geographically centered act, and those of us who make baking a profession or passion must learn to love the land we’re on, even if only for a while.
I'm sure your new conchas will be as good or better.