You might not crawl through hot lava to get crumbs from Fortitude Bakery in London, but I would. When I was there in 2019 I went every day for a week. That and The British Library were my two favorite things in town. By my lights, the woman that runs Fortitude is the Shakespeare of sticky buns.
There is no bakery in Amsterdam of that caliber, though a few suffice. But I am surely not at any of these this morning.
(Do you know what you see the world over if you get up early and find the right spot? People standing in line for yummy baked goods.)
Squint in a Coffee Company (a Dutch chain) and you see Starbucks. At Anne & Max, you see Peete’s, with breakfast. Both have baked goods more like a gas station than Fortitude.
Why?
I know that chains are all about margins. Today’s brutal banana bread must measure out exactly like yesterday’s so the kids at the counter can integrate with the systems (all on a device now) of order taking, serving, and pricing and since whatever gets distributed from HQ must be sorted and stowed uniformity serves the process. Is there anywhere in our world where uniformity and staleness do not live as neighbors?
At Fortitude, by contrast, the kids who served were also learning to bake. They were not the last extruders of an assembly line but apprentices in a workshop. And yes, you can taste the difference.
It takes more strength—more fortitude—than I’ve got to resist a well-made baked good. I wish the world made it less easy.
remind me to take you to Clear Flour Bakery in Coolidge Corner when you're in town...