Finding My Market: How Community Became My Focus
When I launched The Sour Crumb in January 2024, I had a plan: offer porch pickup from home, build a neighborhood customer base, and grow from there.
But early on, I realized that wasn't going to be my path.
Another sourdough baker in my area had launched just two weeks before me — we'd both been quietly working toward the same goal without knowing. When she made it clear she wanted to focus on serving the neighborhood, and I encountered some pushback when I posted about leftover products in local groups, I made a decision:
I'd shift my focus outward. Instead of trying to build in my immediate neighborhood, I'd build in the broader Madison community.
That shift changed everything.
Why Porch Pickup Wasn't the Answer
I still offer porch pickup — customers can choose Thursday afternoon pickup when I bake, or meet me at Blue Apple Books on Friday mornings. It's an option on my website at checkout.
But it's never been the core of my business, and here's why:
Location matters. Our neighborhood is outside of "central" Madison, which makes it less convenient for most customers.
Volume matters more. At a farmers market, I can connect with hundreds of people in a few hours. Porch pickup serves one customer at a time.
Community happens at markets. Porch pickup is transactional. Markets are relational. People stop by my table, ask questions, share experiences, and tell me what they're looking for. That's where I learn what my customers actually want.
And honestly? I love the idea of serving my neighborhood. If people here are my customers, that's wonderful. But the business I've built exists beyond my subdivision, and that's given me so much more room to grow.
Markets Became My Foundation
Farmers markets didn't just replace porch pickup — they became the heart of my business.
Providence Farmers Market was my first consistent venue. Thursday evenings, first three weeks of the month, April through early December. I found my rhythm there. I learned what sells, what doesn't, and how to read my customers.
The volume at markets makes them worth the effort. I bake once that week and bring everything to Thursday evening market. What doesn't sell — plus any pre-orders placed for Friday pickup — goes to Blue Apple Books the next morning. Both events happen within my 24-hour bake window, which means I'm serving two different locations with one production day.
That efficiency matters when you're a one-woman operation.
But beyond the revenue, markets gave me visibility. People discovered me who never would have found me through neighborhood social media posts. And those market connections led to everything else.
The Partnerships That Followed
Here's what I didn't expect: building my business outside my neighborhood opened doors I never knew existed.
Madison Community Center invited me to teach, which gave me a venue to share sourdough and connect with people who wanted to learn. It was my first teaching opportunities outside of just baking and selling.
Lemon & Lavender happened because I knew the owners from a market. We connected, talked about sourdough, and when their workshop teacher left, they asked me if I'd teach there. Now I host monthly Sourdough 101 classes in one of my favorite spaces in Madison.
Blue Apple Books started because I'd been doing Third Thursday events on Main Street. After my second time there, I was invited to pop up at a book launch. That led to ongoing Friday pop-ups. Now I have a presence on Main Street — a place where people come to browse books, support local, and pick up fresh bread.
None of these partnerships would have happened if I'd stayed focused on my neighborhood. Markets and community presence put me in front of the right people at the right time.
What Community Actually Means
I used to think "local" meant my neighborhood. But I've learned that community is bigger than geography.
My community is the people who show up at Providence Market on Thursday evenings. It's the customers who pre-order every month and meet me at Blue Apple. It's the students who take my classes at Lemon & Lavender and the Community Center.
It's the vendors at the market who cheer me on, the business owners who partner with me, the customers who tell their friends about my bread.
That's my community. And it's been built through showing up, connecting face-to-face, and being present in spaces where people gather.
There's Room for Everyone
Here's what I want to be clear about: I don't regret how things unfolded.
There are now multiple sourdough bakers in my neighborhood. Some focus on convenience. Some use different ingredients. Some serve different customers.
And there's room for all of us.
Our "neighborhood" is made up of several subdivisions with nearly 3,000 houses. The market isn't as small as fear makes you think it is.
But more importantly, I've learned that you don't have to compete locally to build a successful business. You can find your people elsewhere. You can build partnerships, show up at markets, teach classes, and create a presence in the broader community.
That's what I did. And it's worked better than I ever imagined.
Looking Back
My original plan didn't work out. Porch pickup never became the foundation I thought it would be.
But the business that emerged from shifting my focus — markets, partnerships, teaching, Main Street presence — has been so much better than what I originally imagined.
I still offer porch pickup. I still love the idea of serving my neighbors. But I built my business by going where I felt welcome, where connections happened naturally, where people were genuinely excited about what I was making.
That turned out to be markets, bookstores, and teaching spaces across Madison — not my subdivision's social media groups.
And I'm grateful it unfolded this way. The community I've built is bigger, more connected, and more sustainable than I ever expected.
Sometimes the path you don't plan is the one that works.
Thanks for being here.
— Courtenay 💙
