Bakery Journey | Part 3
On hiring, Lena Dunham and resisting burnout culture
I’ve been thinking a lot about what a workplace really means: the team, culture, spirit, heart and hum behind an operation. As I enter this final phase of opening the bakery, hiring has become one of the biggest and most important tasks ahead of me. I’ve spoken often about how I want Saison to feel when you walk through the door as a customer: peaceful, thoughtful, a respite from busy Brooklyn life. But what does it mean, and what does it look like to work there? It’s a question I’ve asked myself over and over these past few months.
Saison is my baby, something I’ve been slowly nurturing over the past five years. Following my gut and learning everything one step and one day at a time. I didn’t go to culinary school, and I never worked in a restaurant kitchen. While some may see that as a flaw (or maybe that’s just my imposter syndrome creeping in), it’s been a very intentional decision.
Three years ago, almost to the day, I hired my first (and still only) beloved employee, Carley. At the time, it felt like a huge leap. Beyond the general anxieties of never having an employee before and navigating the unconventional workplace of my home, I worried about what it would feel like to share the process with someone else, this labor of love I held so closely. But the result was beyond anything I could have expected. The past three years have been filled with chatter and laughter, getting giddy over the perfect cake photo, and realizing that the first bite of a cake somehow never gets old, only more delicious every time. Sharing the work with someone who truly sees it and feels excited by it has been one of the greatest rewards. By letting Carley in, someone who has been so essential to my growth, I began to really see the bakery.
Just under two weeks ago, I posted a hiring announcement to Instagram, and nearly 200 applications have come in. Every time I check my inbox, more flood through. I didn’t know what to expect when I posted, but I certainly didn’t expect this. My little bakery? I’m blown away, excited, overwhelmed, and honestly emotional. I’ve started diving into emails and resumes and have held a few phone interviews so far. This community and team I’ve dreamt up in my head is going to be even better in reality. So many thoughtful emails, incredibly qualified applicants, and people who genuinely want to be part of this opening team.
The most common sentiment I’ve been left with is that many people working in the industry are burnt out and longing to fall back in love with food, cooking, and baking. They’re searching for a workplace they haven’t quite found yet: one that is thoughtful, grounded, and rooted in supporting employees and a sustainable work environment. It’s the exact kind of workplace I’ve been dreaming of too.
I recently started listening to the audiobook of Lena Dunham’s new memoir, Famesick: A Memoir, and found myself completely absorbed in her words. While her story is wildly different from mine (and I repeat, wildly), hearing someone I admire speak so honestly about ambition, success, insecurity, illness, and the complicated reality of putting yourself out into the world felt like a breath of fresh air. It’s raw, messy, thoughtful, and far from the perfectly polished version of success social media so often feeds us. Hearing Lena speak openly about the less glamorous parts of building something, and the physical and emotional toll it can take, really stayed with me. This quote in particular:
“It was the first time I chose to ignore my body’s signals for something I wanted too badly. It seemed like the film industry was made up of people ignoring their basic human needs: sleep, time with loved ones, a reliable schedule, no domain over what they ate and when they peed. But who could blame them when the tradeoff was to make magic.”*
I resonate with this deeply, and I think anyone chasing a dream probably does. Like a giant waving SOS flag, Lena’s memoir reinforced my instinct to keep following my gut and how important it is to actively make decisions that support building a life, and now a workplace, that values longevity, balance, and wellbeing. A notion that sounds so simple, but is sadly hard to achieve in this dog eat dog world of ours.
I think this is also why I made the very intentional decision not to work in a professional kitchen while building Saison. I wanted to teach myself slowly, intuitively, and authentically. To stay connected to my own voice and way of doing things, rather than learning in an environment that never fully resonated with me.
And while there is so much to learn, the groundwork for a thoughtful workplace has been laid. The kitchen at the bakery is open and full of natural light, spacious enough to actually breathe in, and thoughtfully laid out for the reality of a long workday. My plan is to start small and grow efficiently, while staying flexible enough to pivot if and when needed. I’m sharing my goals and vision as openly as I can with prospective hires and working on my own communication skills so I can lead this future little team as best as possible. It’s by no means perfect or final, but it’s an honest start.
This update isn’t so much to share all the things I’ve checked off the to do list, but more about sharing the rollercoaster of it all. Writing has always been a way for me to orient my thoughts, and in sharing it with you, you become part of the journey. Stay tuned soon for some beautiful progress photos of the bakery, shot by photographer and collaborator Judson Rappaport.
P.S. The bakery opens in early July. Can you believe it?


