Why the artisan bread from your neighbourhood tastes better (and what your brand can learn from it)

There’s a reason the bread from your local bakery tastes better—and it’s not just the recipe. What if your brand could feel just as irresistible? A little story about patience, process, and why the best brands (like the best bread) are made with intention, not shortcuts.

6/3/20243 min read

brown bread on brown paper bag
brown bread on brown paper bag

And then there’s the human side. There’s a world of difference between buying bread at a big-box store and buying it from Pepe, your local baker. Pepe greets you, tells you where his flour comes from, talks about his sourdough starter like it’s a family member. That relationship builds trust. It makes you come back. It makes you tell your friends.

It’s the same with your brand. You don’t have to show your face, but you do have to show your essence. People need to feel there’s a story behind what you do. If you’re not sure you’re getting there, ask yourself:

  • Does your brand have a scent? A flavour? Does it make people feel something?

  • If your brand were a person passing you on the street, would you stop to look? Would you listen to what it has to say?

  • Does your brand leave breadcrumbs in people’s memory, or does it just fall apart at the first bite?

That’s what makes something last—not just being well-made, but feeling well-made.

We really need to stop settling for industrial loaves or half-baked ideas. Your branding should be like that bread you can smell from across the street, the one you break with your hands, the one that reminds you someone made it thinking of you.

Great branding isn’t just seen. It’s felt. It’s remembered. It’s craved.

If you’re ready for your brand to feel as crafted and memorable as that perfect loaf—distinctive, full of character, and impossible to forget—discover how The Signature can help you build a brand with real substance and soul. Explore The Signature and start creating a brand experience that’s truly worth craving.

I’m a graphic designer, not a baker.

But a couple of years ago, I decided to try baking bread from scratch for the first time. I had all the ingredients, the motivation, and the collective wisdom of the internet cheering me on. What I didn’t have was patience. I figured skipping a few resting times wouldn’t make much of a difference. Spoiler: it absolutely did.

The result was a loaf that managed to be both undercooked and burnt at the same time—a culinary paradox I still can’t quite explain. My brief career as a home baker ended that day, but the lesson stuck with me: the process is everything. It’s not just important; it’s the soul of the result.

Every morning, I walk past a little bakery in my neighbourhood where they make sourdough the old-fashioned way. The smell follows me down the street—warm, honest, freshly baked. That kind of bread doesn’t need to shout for attention. It just quietly calls you in. It doesn’t even try to compete with the supermarket stuff, because it’s playing a different game entirely: one of carefully chosen ingredients, time that’s respected, and a story behind every bite.

And honestly, that’s exactly what branding should be.

A well-made brand has a lot in common with a well-made loaf of bread. The more I think about it, the more obvious it seems. Authentic branding isn’t fast or generic. It doesn’t come from some logo-and-colour vending machine. It’s something you cultivate. It needs patience. It needs time to rest, to evolve, to grow with intention. Like a living dough, it needs care and context.

And you don’t need to overcomplicate things with a million ingredients. Bread is just flour, water, salt, and yeast. In the right hands, that’s enough to make magic. Same goes for your brand. You don’t need to pile on decorative elements or unnecessary copy. You just need to know what you want to say, and how to say it. The best flavours come from simplicity, when there’s real intention behind every detail.

Think about brands like Aesop or Le Labo. They don’t need to shout to get your attention. They’re the visual equivalent of a loaf with a crackling crust and a soft, generous heart. Discreet, sensorial, full of character. They use the minimum, but they use it so well. Every texture, every word, every scent (literally) speaks for them.

a bottle of liquid sitting on top of a white table
a bottle of liquid sitting on top of a white table

Subscribe to The Journal

Step inside our private journal—where inspiration, stories, and brand secrets are shared first with our inner circle.