Hey. I'm Henry Hunter. For years I sold bread at farmers markets and festivals. Eighty, ninety loaves a market, most weekends. I packed the van before sunrise, set up the tent, made change with cold hands, and talked to every single person who stopped at my table. I lived this. I wrote a book about it, called From Oven to Market, same name as this course. These days I run Baking Great Bread at Home, and Crust and Crumb Academy.
Here's the simple promise of this whole thing. You already know how to bake. This is about selling the bread you already know how to make.
And I built this course because of something I kept seeing. Most courses out there are about the person teaching them. Look at my bakery. Look at my story. This one isn't about me. It's about you. You're the one on the line, getting up before the sun, taking the risk. So everything here is built around the traps that wear a small baking business down before it ever gets a fair shot.
You know the part you love. Up before the sun. Mixing, shaping, baking. Loading the van and talking to every customer who stops. That's the work. And then there's the part nobody warns you about. The website. You sit down to make one and you stare at a blank screen for an hour. Or you call an agency, and they quote you three thousand dollars. For a site you can't even change yourself. You want to swap a photo or fix a price? That's another invoice. And if you try to take payments online, now you've got merchant fees and chargebacks and a pile of liability you never asked for. I know what three thousand dollars means to a baker who's just starting out. That's a new mixer. That's hundreds of pounds of flour. That's your booth fee for an entire season.
So here's the part I'm proudest of. You don't build a website at all. Your answers to the course become your website, on their own. The questions you answer in the course are the same things your site needs. Who you serve and your one-sentence tagline, that's Module 1. The true cost of a loaf and your prices, that's Module 3. Your photo and your story, that's Module 5. You answer those because they build your business. The site just quietly puts itself together behind you.
By the time you finish, you don't have a folder of notes. You have a real, working storefront that looks like your business and sounds like you. It makes you look legitimate before a customer ever tastes your bread. It helps people find your tent with a map and directions. And it tells them what you bake, and why it matters.
The way it works is simple, and there's no scary reveal at the end. You answer a question on one side of the screen, like typing in your business name, and your live page updates on the other side, right then. You're not guessing what it'll look like. You're watching it come together. It feels less like filling out a form and more like a conversation.
Let me be clear about what this is, and what it isn't. It's a trust-building menu and a map. It's a simple way to take preorders without handling payment online. It's a professional version of your booth, and a page you can update in thirty seconds from your phone. What it isn't is a complicated checkout system. It isn't a generic template somebody drops on you at the very end. It isn't a merchant account that opens you up to chargebacks and card fees. And it sure isn't a replacement for showing up and building real relationships with the people who buy your bread.
So here's how you build it, step by step. First, the foundation. You enter your business name, your name, where you are, and one plain, true sentence about what you do. That's the backbone. It's what creates your web address and your menu. Second, the math becomes the menu. You already did the hard pricing work inside the course. Here's where it pays off. You set a price for each product and add a one-line description, the way you'd say it at the table. And the tool handles your state's cottage food law disclosures for you, and drops them right where they belong in the footer. Third, your story and your brand. This is the heart of the page. You pick your colors, your deep greens and your crusty browns, you pick your font, and you upload a photo of yourself. Because people buy bread from people. A real photo of you at your table, apron on, builds more trust than any expensive logo ever could. Three or four honest sentences about why you bake will beat a page of polish every time. Fourth, the market details. Customers need to know exactly where you are and when you'll be there. You enter your market name, your schedule, and your address, and the tool builds a real map on your page with a Get Directions link. No more texts on Saturday morning asking where your tent is.
Now, taking orders. This is where a lot of bakers get nervous. Your customer browses your menu on their phone, taps to reserve what they want, and that order gets emailed straight to you. No credit card. No Stripe account. Zero payment liability. Then they pay you at the booth. Cash, Venmo, however you already do it. It's exactly how the market already works. You just made it official.
There's a rule I teach in the course called the twenty-foot test. From twenty feet away, does your booth look like you take it seriously? Your website has to pass that same test. Your booth and your site need to tell the exact same story, because professionalism is what lets you charge what your bread is actually worth, in person and online.
And this isn't some flimsy toy that spits out a paragraph. Behind the scenes, it's real software, organizing your business the right way. The kind of thing a developer would charge you thousands to build. You just get it by answering questions.
So think about the old way next to this way. The old way, you stare at a blank screen. This way, you answer simple questions as you go. The old way costs three thousand dollars up front. This way comes with the course, no separate bill. The old way hands you payment liability and merchant fees. This way, your customers pay at the booth. The old way gives you a website that knows nothing about your business. This way is built right into your pricing and your state's cottage food rules.
One habit keeps it all working. A market baker's site is only good if it's current. A page that hasn't changed since spring tells people you might be closed. So every week, change your special. Drop in a fresh customer quote. Thirty seconds from your phone. Small and current beats big and stale. June peach galettes, Saturday only. That sells.
And here's the best part. You earned this page one module at a time. It's proof you did the work. Your bakery is online now, in your words, ready to hand to your neighborhood. Put the link in your Instagram bio. Print it as a QR code on your market sign. Share it with every customer. And then get back to what you do best. Get back to the bread.
Perfection is not required. Progress is.
I'm Henry Hunter, and we're the number one ProveWorth Certified five-star community on Skool. Come bake with us.