WATERTOWN — Beware the scent. That aroma, heavy, yeasty and dense, wafts over Nicole Jupin’s Watertown porch and right into the vulnerable olfactories of Kile Pawlak.
“Her bread?” warns the Watertown resident. “Don’t try it. It’s like crack cocaine. I fly home early on Friday just to get this bread.”
The bread is from Jupin’s Cottage Crumb microbakery, which the 35-year-old attorney started last March. Since then, her sales have been rising, well, like her sourdough bread, made from scratch and cooling on two bamboo shoe racks on her porch.
Pawlak, who flies frequently for work, is a neighbor who has been buying the microbakery’s sourdough breads every week for the last six months.
“The honey oat is the best,” he says, scurrying away with $30 worth of warm, round bread, which he expects will last his family into the following week.
Jupin is one of a growing number of licensed cottage bakery operators in Connecticut, a program that was established in 2018. Under the law, bakers like Jupin can sell any food that "can be prepared in a home environment without some of the controls used for a traditional ready-to-eat food such as those foods sold in a restaurant or grocery store,” according to the state Deparment of Consumer Protection.
Jupin can sell up to $50,000 worth of her dense, chewy loaves, which sell for $10 to $24 each, without investing in a commercial kitchen or oven.
More For You
They all come out of her home oven, an appliance that has seen amplifying use since she turned her cooking hobby into a thriving side gig. She began with a few neighbors and now sells 50 to 60 loaves every Friday. Her menu, usually four to six items, posts every Sunday and orders must be placed by Wednesday.
“I’ve been baking for friends and family for years, and finaly just decided to take their advice and see if I could go out on my own," said Jupin, a 2008 Holy Cross High School graduate who earned a bachelor’s degree in criminology at the University of Maryland College and a law degree from Quinnipiac University School of Law.
A steady trickle of vehicles motor up her flat driveway to retrieve their orders, often more than three loaves every Friday afternoon.
“How’s everybody? Good,” says one customer, who grabs three warm rolls in her arms and cradles them as if they were an infant.
To get those warm loaves ready and wrapped in carefully labeled paper-and-celophane bags for her porch sales, Jupin is up at 4 a.m., when she begins removing previously prepared rolls of dough from her refrigerator and placing 12 each in her oven. She then removes them to cool and places another dozen into the oven, a process that continues for hours.
“By the time I’m done, I don’t think I’ve stopped moving from 4 a.m. to 2:30 (p.m.),” she said.
Sourdough bread can confound the most skillful of bakers because it takes time, patience and a willingness to let nature take its course. The secret, Jupin suggests, is in the “starter,” a live culture of wild yeast and bacteria in a mixture of flour and water that acts as a natural leavening agent in the bread.
For years, Jupin used commercial yeast, but she decided the end product tasted too flat and she was willing to fiddle. The ingredients could not be more basic: flour, water and seasalt. Jupin experimented with ingredients and fermenting time to come up with her own starter, which she began keeping in Mason jars in her refrigerator until demand became too great for her product.
“There is natural yeast on the flour,” Jupin said. “Once you cultivate it over three or four weeks, you can use it over and over again. You just kind of have to mess around with it.
For several years after law school, Jupin happily leaned into working 70 to 80 hours a week as an attorney at Sikorsky Aircraft in Stratford, she said, but after her two daughters, now ages 6 and 8, were born, she discovered she wanted to be home with her family more.
“I couldn’t take it any more," she said. "I didn’t want to miss being with the kids.”
She said she has no regrets with her career change.
“I am happier doing this and meeting people every week, building a community, way more than sitting in a cubicle under fluorescent lights,” Jupin said. “This give me the satisfaction of being in conrol, making decisions, being responsible for my own time.”
She said “it would be nice” if the current cap of $50,000 in earnings from a cottage industry were lifted, but as of right now, "I’m happy with the way things are. My one day a week, that’s my happy threshold.”