The Story of
 

The Delectable Crumb is a way of sharing my love of food with others.  Tasty treats can be the highlight of a celebration, a treasured tradition, a means of comfort, or just make an ordinary day feel special.  I love bringing a smile to someone's face when they enjoy the perfect flavor.

​

My home bakery is all about flavor, not flash. Every item is made by hand, from scratch, with in-house recipes. I only use real food ingredients: raw sugars, cage free eggs, exceptional butter, fresh fruits, and genuine extracts and spices.  Cookies are subtly sweet with a tender crumb. Cobblers and fruit pies combine perfectly ripe fresh fruits enhanced with sugar and natural flavoring and a flaky crust. Cinnamon rolls have a deeply nuanced flavor thanks to top-quality cinnamon, real cream cheese frosting, and authentic homemade, hand-kneaded sweet dough. Brownies are made with decadent real chocolate. Real foods, made in small batches, by hand. This is what you will find at The Delectable Crumb.

​

The roots for The Delectable Crumb were planted over a century ago.  My great-grandmothers, out of both necessity and love, enjoyed feeding their families and anyone who came to their home.  My tiny German Oma loved to stand by the table watching everyone eat, clasping her hands in delight, ready to dole out gigantic second helpings. She made incredible German Chocolate Cake, which, moniker withstanding, is not German.  My even tinier Italian Nonna constantly bustled around her kitchen preparing meals to feed her family of six and welcomed neighbors and farm hands to share in their table.  She was known for her cuccidati (fig cookies), which are still prepared every Christmas by her grandson. Oma and Nonna passed down both their recipes and their hospitality to their children.

​

My Grandma was very utilitarian in her approach to food – and everything  – but it didn’t keep her cakes, cookies, bars, and pralines on the dessert table from being the highlight of our family get-togethers.  I loved watching her work at the range and hear the sound of her opening their kitchen cabinet doors.  When I was still unmarried at 30, Grandma watched me pan-fry a few eggs for breakfast and declare “You will never get a husband if you cook eggs like that!” Grandma didn’t mince words.  And I learned how to cook eggs.

​

My Nana was famous for her pan-fried chicken and cherry pies.  I remember standing on a stool so I was tall enough to see the counter, watching her coax the crust together, hearing the distinctive click of her rolling pin gliding over the dough, and the way she gently laid the thin crust in a pie pan.  It had the perfect texture.  My grandfather always joked that he married her because she was a good cook, and Nana would pat his rounded tummy and say “this is proof.”

​

My own wonderful mother and I spent lots of time in the kitchen together, most of those years with her patiently instructing me.  Mom has a calm way of saying “just try it” – and there’s no pressure if the baking experiment doesn’t work out.  She let me put on an apron that was too big for me and get my hands all floury while experimenting with ready-made cookie dough and boxed cake mixes.  I had to work my way up to from-scratch doughs and batters.  We still love working in the kitchen together.  She makes the best chicken salad and Texas Sheet Cake. 

​

After college and grad school, I moved into my own little historic house with its kitchen window overlooking an ancient fig tree.  There, I started developing my own recipes and baking ideas and techniques, building upon all I had observed and learned from them.