Both Diana and Joanna came to pursue baking as a career at a later age. “I studied in Portugal, so it was a career change for me,” Diana tells me over a coffee in the garden of Dusty Knuckles’ Dalston location. Coming from a career in archaeology, it wasn’t till she turned thirty that she uncovered her passion for patisserie. It was a seamless merger of artistry and skill for her to explain that a lot of people come from an artistic background—it's a visual art itself; it's just developing your skills so you can transform the visual into actual craft”. Often, it’s a misconception that people in the industry have this family connection to baking, as it's something most learn at home, but for Diana “there is no romantic story” she says, laughing that her “grandma hated baking”. Diana just never imagined it as a career.
Unlike Diana, who studied for 15 months in Portugal in culinary school, Joanna became a baker at the Spence out of the bakeries' desperation during lockdown. “I didn’t have any formal training; you just need the passion and perseverance to become a baker initially,” is her outlook on production after transitioning from the manager of the shop over to production when “there was nothing around open in Stoke Newington,” she says before emphasising how stressful that was for her and her team. The business of both bakeries hasn’t subsided since then either; even on a weekday, the queue was almost out of the door, which is why the working hours for these bakers are so long.
“We start here at five in the morning,” Diana tells me, but that’s a nice lay-in for Joanna, who starts at four in the morning. The way in which both use the formal ‘in the morning’ rather than AM feels indicative of the way in which they look upon it; it is so natural for them, with Joanna describing the kitchen as having "its own bubble at times, like a family”. Both coming into the industry later in life, they seem committed in a different way than perhaps a younger trainee. “It’s really a career you have to love” Diana says, adding “it's not an industry that makes a lot of money, and you work a lot of hours”. The hard work hasn’t deterred the youngsters, although mentorship is a scarce commodity “people just don’t have the patience to teach kids,” Diana says.
…“I am not going to get my trainees to pick parsley for hours... Who the fuck wants that?”
She challenges that by stating that “the Dusty Knuckle is a very good space for this... we mainly employ people with no background in the industry; they just need passion and the desire to learn”. Just as she moulds each croissant or morning bun, she says you can mould the people you are training; it helps discover who she is and wants in this profession. In this industry pastry chefs and bakers have to wear multiple hats, “Pastry chefs have to diversify. You need to be multi-faceted," Diana says, hands-on learning is key. Diana champions the philosophy that the younger generation must be pushed into the deep end…“I am not going to get my trainees to pick parsley for hours... Who the fuck wants that?” Diana says arguing that “trivial jobs” are discouraging and “It’s our job to engage with the younger generation to actually make them go into it.” Moreover, they can’t afford to hire staff and not put them to good use.
Although pastry is a transferable skill, you do need, as Joanna describes it, “a gift” that not everyone possesses.
“You know if a pastry chef is loud, shit has gone down.”
Diana's asserts that “a certain personality” is needed for what is a very full-on industry. It’s repetition, repetition, repetition: “You just need to be patient,” but by patient, Diana emphasises that does not mean slow. There is an interesting dichotomy between chefs and pastry chefs. “There is only one way of working pastry,” she says, adding that "traditionally, chefs hate working pastry because they have to use a scale!”. There is such a big part of pastry that is made up of chemistry and maths, which Diana attributes to the silence in the pastry section: “You really need to be quiet, know what you are doing, and then you can speed up,” she says, adding “You know if a pastry chef is loud, shit has gone down.” Pastry chefs are undervalued in restaurants, and Diana admits she “barely asks for desserts in restaurants because they are extremely underwhelming” explaining that it’s because they are “chef’s desserts”. Working in restaurants and hotel service for many years prior to this bakery, Diana knows if a place has invested in a separate dessert team because “we are valuable; we have a skill that is difficult to achieve”.
Diana explains:
“I had to fight a lot to be just a pastry chef in certain kitchens; they try to push you a certain way, and then you're a woman; you have to shout a bit louder.”
Nowadays, she much prefers her life in the bakery. Although considered "medium size," the Dusty Knuckle still churns out 10,000 pastries a week, but Diana now loves this production more than service: “In the bakery, I found more exciting work,” she says. Although Joanna transitioned into the bakery from a purely managerial position at the Spence, she has similar views on the industry and towards the younger generation coming into the field, saying, “You can learn everything you want to know, but if you like something, you can master it.” Pastries are their own artistic industry, which formal training can only take you so far in; it’s a lifestyle that needs to be a passion to be able to persevere. Next time you are thinking of getting a dessert in a restaurant, perhaps skip it and visit a local bakery; that’s where a lot of talent is hiding.