Une boulangerie de quartier
Bread with a crust you can hear.
A dark, blistered miche and its companions, in a linen bag on your step every week. Four minutes in your oven and the kitchen smells like a village bakery in Provence.
Weekly delivery in Crystal Falls, Leander. Pause any week.
Le banneton
The rings a proofing basket leaves behind
Bread is only as good as its last four minutes. We hand those four minutes to you.
La croûte
Dark, because that is where the flavour is.
Baked well past the colour most bakeries stop at, then cooled all the way down so the crumb sets and the crust stays crisp in linen. It arrives quiet. Four minutes in a hot oven and it starts crackling on the board while you find the butter.
Flour, water, salt and a levain kept alive on the counter. Nothing else goes in the country loaf.
La livraison
Nothing to order. It is simply there.
Sign up once and bread arrives every week, before breakfast, on the step. No weekly cart, no reminder to ignore, no drive across town for a loaf that was good four hours ago.
- Leave the linen bag out and it is swapped for a full one.
- Pause, skip or change the basket from your account, any week.
- Delivered on foot and by car in one round, so it is on the porch cold-crusted and dry.
La carte
Three doughs, and a menu that moves
The carte rotates on a four-week cycle. Members get the week's list in an email before the bake.
La miche
The large round country loaf. Long fermentation, open crumb, baked nearly black at the ears. Better on day three than most bread is on day one.
Every week, without exception
La focaccia
Dimpled by hand, pooled with olive oil, coarse salt on top. A tray-sized slab meant to be torn rather than sliced.
Two weeks in four
Le pain de mie
The soft milk loaf. Milk, butter, pale crust, tight crumb. The one the children eat first and the best of the three for toast.
Two weeks in four
Le quatrième — this week's fourth
One slot on the carte changes every week: a fougasse, a rye, a brioche, whatever the levain and the season are doing. Account holders see it first.
400°
four minutes
The last four minutes are yours.
A card in the bag carries the one instruction: 400°F, four minutes, straight on the rack, no foil. It is not a rescue and it is not an apology — the loaf is finished in your kitchen on purpose, so the crust is minutes old when it reaches the table.
Do it while the coffee is going.
La tournée
One round, one subdivision. The next one is up to you.
Crystal Falls is the only round we can bake and deliver in a single morning. Streets go on the map one at a time, in the order they ask. Put yours down and you will hear when the round reaches it.
Schematic, not a real map. Streets are confirmed as the first round fills.
Start weekly bread
An account takes a minute: email and a password, or Google, or a link in your inbox if you would rather not have another password.
Le nom
A miche — meesh — is the big round French country loaf. Maison Miche is one baker, one home kitchen, one round of deliveries a week.
Made in a home kitchen under the Texas cottage food exemption. Wheat, milk, butter and olive oil are handled in the same room.