A year ago, Yellow Cocina Bakes was just a little idea I was trying my best to bring to life from my home kitchen. Last Saturday, that same little bakery filled our driveway with family, friends, neighbors and new faces.

I wanted it to be a way of giving back to the community that has allowed me to bake for them this past year. There were samples, a complimentary cold brew bar, goodies to purchase, preorder pickups, my new Carbivores shirts, and a few gold-ticket scratchers hidden among the extra items with surprise coupons inside.

More than anything, I know none of this would have been possible without God. This first year of Yellow Cocina Bakes has been such a gift from Him. It came during a hard year for our family, and somehow, in the middle of all the baking, God used Yellow Cocina to sustain me, heal me, and remind me that He can bring something good and beautiful even in a hard season.

The week leading up to the Porch Party was full. I knew I would need God’s grace to carry me through it. With rain in the forecast for Saturday, we started the week praying for clear skies.

My husband left for a work trip the Sunday night before, so I started the week solo parenting while working on a large personal order for the bakery. Monday was mostly spent finishing that order and trying to get ahead before Tuesday.

Tuesday, between babysitters and my wonderful mother-in-law, I was able to take a little break. My sister flew in from Virginia, and we spent the day in Louisville before going to the Forrest Frank concert together. We played tourist, found the most amazing spot called Haymarket, and had such delicious food and coffee. The concert was epic, wonderful, and refreshing all at once. I would absolutely do it again.

Wednesday, my sister took us out to brunch, and then we came home to begin making cookie dough. I browned lots of butter while she helped my daughter make a sign for her lemonade stand. That night, we stayed up late rolling cookie dough balls and talking about life.

Thursday morning, I took my sister to the airport and came back home to a little TV time for the girls—lots of Liberty Kids and Little Bear—while I started prepping. I mixed loaves, did stretch and folds, and worked on prepping 4 different types of scones. We also had a sweet surprise drop-by: a dear friend stopped by with a little anniversary gift because she wasn’t able to attend the party. Once I got back to prepping, my sweet neighbors offered to take the girls to play for the afternoon, which gave me time to keep prepping away.

Friday flew by. I woke up super early to mix my cinnamon rolls and bagel dough then went to the YMCA because I needed some endorphins to kick in. I grabbed an iced latte at my favorite local coffee shop before I headed back home. Then I turned my oven on at 10:38 a.m. and it stayed on until 6:30 p.m.

Bake day is one of my favorite days. The music is always blasting, and this time it was Forrest Frank all day long while I baked cookies, scored bread, rolled cinnamon rolls, and shaped bagels.

Thankfully my husband was back from his trip, so he took the girls for an evening walk to hand out flyers and invite the neighbors. Then he handled dinner, bath, and bedtime while I pre-labeled everything I could, bagged items, worked through last-minute details, like fill my ice-cube molds with cold brew. I also realized I needed to update my labels because I had slightly changed my logo, so I stayed up too late trying to figure out my new laser label printer.

I’ll be honest: by the end of the night, I was starting to wonder if I had baked too many extras. I worried that I would be left with a whole table full of things that didn’t sell. But I kept prepping, prayed over it, and decided to let God have this worry.

I went to bed around 1 a.m. and woke up at 6:30 Saturday morning to answered prayers of no rain. I took the cinnamon rolls and bagels out to come to room temperature, preheated the oven, and emptied the dishwasher. As soon as the scones finished baking, I realized I had forgotten extra ice for the cold brew bar and lemonade stand.

I ran upstairs to wake up my husband, then hurried back down to pop the cinnamon rolls in the oven. I tried to set up the borrowed tent by myself, quickly realized I couldn’t, and waited for him so we could try it together before he left for ice. Unfortunately, the tent was taking much longer than expected, so I texted a neighbor to come help.

While they worked on the tent, I went back inside to frost cinnamon rolls and package what was left. My husband eventually headed to Chick-fil-A for ice—because their ice is the best—while I started on the bagels. I glazed scones, frosted cinnamon rolls, and packaged preorders until he returned around 8:50.

Then I rushed outside to finish setting up tables in the driveway, ran back in one more time to finish packaging bagels, when my husband announced, “The first customer is here.”

I looked at the clock. It was 9:02.

There were already three people in the driveway, and basically nothing was ready.

The morning became nonstop. I was running in and out of the house with orders, extras, samples of bite-size cinnamon rolls, bread, and everything for the cold brew bar. Thankfully, my neighbors stepped in to help my oldest finish setting up her lemonade stand while I kept moving.

By 10:15, I realized I was still in my pajamas.

I had planned to wear a pretty yellow dress and take photos of the setup before everyone arrived. Instead, I was in little yellow pajama shorts, a sports bra, a yellow zip-up, and my “Here for Sourdough” hat. At that point, it had slowed down for a bit so I finally slipped inside, changed as quickly as I could, and finished baking a few extra loaves before heading back out.

Thankfully, a friend had offered to take photos and videos while she was there, because I barely had a second to look up.

The driveway stayed busy all morning. Customers I already knew came by, along with neighbors, people who had seen my Facebook post, Instagram followers, church friends, YMCA friends, and brand-new faces. One gentleman even came because my daughter had handed him a flyer the night before.

We had 26 RSVPs through Luma, and everyone who showed their confirmation got a free small cinnamon roll. There were 16 preorders for pick up and 60 extra items available for purchase.

By 11:30, things had slowed down and we were just chatting with a few friends that stopped by to support, when another friend texted me that she had overslept but was on her way. She asked if there was anything left.

I looked over at the table.

Six items left.

By the time she arrived, there were only three. She bought two.

And the very last item—the last bagel—was claimed by me, because I realized I had somehow made it almost to noon without breakfast.

At 11:45, just fifteen minutes before the One Year Porch Party was supposed to end, we sold out.

I have never sold out before. Usually after a preorder pickup, we have some extras left. Sometimes some of them find a home, other times my family gets to enjoy them. But this time, every single thing was gone. People even messaged afterward to ask if there was anything left, and I had to say the words I still can’t quite believe:

“We sold out.”

I remember getting so emotional. After a week of planning, praying, baking, wondering, and working, I just praised God for His faithfulness.

More than selling out, though, I keep thinking about all the people who showed up. The ones who have supported Yellow Cocina Bakes since the beginning, the ones who took a chance on something new, the neighbors who helped with the girls, the friends who came just to celebrate, and the people who walked up to a driveway bakery because they saw a post or a flyer.

This first year has looked like a lot of early mornings, flour everywhere, stretch and folds between school drop-off and bedtime, and more learning than I expected. It has also looked like this: a driveway full of people who made a little home bakery feel very loved.

Thank you for being part of it. Here’s to year two.

From my kitchen to yours,
Angi