Willie Bessie Clara Franks — grandmother, and the reason any of this exists.

One family gathering, more than fifty years ago. All of it hers.

Most people think the name is about my Gemini-forward personality.

That's not the whole story.

This is my maternal grandmother, Willie Bessie Clara Franks. She was brilliant—amazing at anything she tried—but mostly famous in one area code for being a phenomenal baker. She is my inspiration, but not just because she could cook AND bake the pants off anyone I've ever met. She was old af when I was born, and I never got the chance to ask her if she even liked being in the kitchen.

She had nine children, an abusive husband, and, when she was young, her own father forced her to turn down not one, but two opportunities for an entirely free college education.

I'm the baker in the friend group who finally got middle-aged brave enough to start her own bakery. You probably have one of these people in your life too. Maybe you're just here because it's her birthday.

Baking is the best way I know how to love other humans. I'm not a hugger. At all. But I will absolutely spend three days in the kitchen making you something ridiculous—no big deal.

I'm obsessed with making everything from scratch, and sourcing from local, women and BIPOC owned businesses whenever possible.

I also believe that relationships with animals give us one of our best shots at happiness in this life. I've worked in and around animal welfare for decades, so after all that, eating them would make me feel like a real a-hole. Hence: plant-based bakery.

I'm lucky enough to share my life with four tiny dogs, each with the confidence of a much larger animal. Most recently, we adopted Harvey B. Milk from Louisiana, where he was rescued by some truly wonderful humans.