Food & Drink

Bakery founders’ business is far from half-baked

Names: Matt Lewis and Renato Poliafito

Jobs: Co-founders of the Red Hook-based bakery and cafe Baked. The two former ad execs connected over their passion for desserts and coffee and, in 2005, after leaving Deutsche, launched their business.

The duo envisions Baked as an antidote to the rash of bake shops built on “faux nostalgia” and a “Norman Rockwellian aesthetic.”

“We opened in the face of the cupcake movement,” says Lewis.

The pair believes too many other American baked goods, such as the three-layer cake and the brownie, are getting short shrift. And it seems the self-anointed “gentlemen bakers” are onto something. Oprah crowned Baked brownies one of her “Favorite Things,” and Williams-Sonoma sells an exclusive line of their mixes, including one for their “Brookster” (the much-loved offspring of a brownie and a cookie). Meanwhile, they’ve managed to crank out three best-selling cookbooks and rack up more than 18,000 likes on their Facebook page — which is essentially a repository of dessert porn. The pair pride themselves on new twists on old American recipes — such as strawberry whoopie pie, Coca-Cola Bundt and their award-winning sweet-and-salty cake.

The intrepid entrepreneurs came to the business with minimal industry experience. Lewis, 41, launched Chocolate Bar, and Poliafito, 39, managed a cafe for a year, but the two were more familiar with cubicle life and client pitches than with food service. “It was a steep learning curve,” says Lewis, who spent more than a decade in the advertising world. “The first year was rough,” adds Poliafito.

In addition to having Madison Avenue in common, the men also have Italian roots. Sporting a goatee, plaid shirt, skinny tie, pink socks and Chuck Taylor Converse sneakers, Poliafito fits right into the Red Hook hipster scene. Lewis is clean cut and conservative-looking in a blue button-down. Both men learned the art of baking from their mothers and grandmothers.

Routine: Poliafito leads day-to-day tasks, while Lewis is charged with spearheading special projects, such as the books and the Williams-Sonoma line. The businessmen and bakers split their time between the shop and their home offices. Although they do jump into the kitchen to test out recipes, they can also burn through the bulk of the day on the computer — managing suppliers, interacting with partners and marketing the business.

The duo tries to confine their workday from 6:30 a.m. until 5 p.m. They’ve sworn off most work travel after closing an outpost in Charleston, SC. “Try making buttercream in the summer in Charleston!” exclaims Poliafito.

Décor: The bakery aesthetic is evocative of a minimalist ski lodge with its wood paneling, antler door handles and brown walls with orange accents. A whitewashed deer bust and taxidermied bird complete the decidedly masculine look. “We wouldn’t feel comfortable surrounded by lace curtains,” Poliafito says. “The stag movement was in full swing when we launched.”

The afternoon crowd at the bakery is a mix of hipsters, older people and Baked tourists — many of whom are from out of state and drive up, pull over and pick up treats to go. Neighbors grabbing their afternoon snacks spontaneously endorse the entrepreneurs, eager to recount how nice they are to the neighborhood’s homeless.

The bakers’ apartments are a short drive away. Poliafito’s home office in Gowanus — past the scrap metal center and across from a U-Haul — overlooks Manhattan. The modern apartment is pristine. With stag imagery and pops of orange-red color, there are notable parallels between the office and the bakery.

Desk: The desk in Poliafito’s home office — a walnut veneer with white drawers — was custom-made for the space. It took three tries and three different furniture makers (two went AWOL) before it came together. A bookshelf in the 10-by-12-foot space is lined with cookbooks — from a series of “Cook’s Country” books to Martha Stewart’s “Cooking School.”

Detritus: Poliafito’s office is well-curated and minimalist, but a few quirky items are tucked around — such as a stormtrooper figurine (“I’m that age. He’s inspiring,” he says), a Buddha-shaped piggy bank, Russian nesting dolls (“they’re actually from Germany”) and a framed driver’s license of a friend. Poliafito’s made fun of the picture enough times, saying, “He looks like an old Chinese lady,” that when his friend got a new license, he gave it to Poliafito as a birthday gift.

Caffeine and nourishment: Lewis, not surprisingly, loves cookies and Bundt cake, while Poliafito has a weakness for biscotti. Their secret to staying so slim? Lewis relies on neighbors to cart away his creations, and Poliafito jokes he has gained weight gradually, but camouflages it with Manx (the imaginary male version of Spanx).

Poliafito tries to limit his coffee intake to one cup a day. Lewis indulges in a full pot of java daily.

Work style: Poliafito claims their style is “lazy, then rushed at end.” Of the bakery’s name he says they wanted something simple that people would remember. “It’s obvious what we do here . . . and we don’t confirm or deny the double entendre!”
What’s next? The duo is working with Williams-Sonoma on a soon-to-launch line of bakeware.

Reflecting on their trajectory, Matt says, “Initially, it was rough. We were wearing all the hats. Now people can wear them for us. That’s when you know you’ve made it.”