The Raw Reality Behind My Mumbai Bakery
People see the perfect cakes on the feed. They do not see the 4 AM alarms, the mountain of dishes, or the supplier scooter rides. Here is the unfiltered truth of running Salt by Flavia in Colaba.
A little throwback to where it all began. I used to live in Goregaon and had my first tiny kitchen there. The work was so different, but I had so much confidence even as a baby baker.
The peaceful process of baking a cake versus the chaotic reality of the dishes that pile up afterwards. The struggle is very, very real.
The reality of running a business: the constant hunt for good staff. Finding the right people is one of the hardest parts, and it's a continuous learning process.
Instagram might show "Sold out by 1 PM," but the reality is that we have slow days too. Some days, it's just us and the treats we woke up at dawn to make, hoping for an order.
The reality is that things go wrong. No matter how organised you are, there will be wrong labels, misunderstandings, and forgotten orders. You just have to fix it, apologise, and move on.
What you see are perfect cakes and happy customers. But behind all that is a lot of hard work, challenges, and lessons learned the hard way.
A day in my life when I'm not in the kitchen. Follow me on a sourcing trip to Crawford Market, where I get all my supplies from my trusted vendors.
When someone says, "I'm taking you out, wear something expensive," and you work with premium Callebaut chocolate all day. This is my couture.
To everyone looking for a cake that doesn't cost an arm and a leg: good news! I don't accept limbs as payment, only cash or card. So you should definitely order from me.
I am once again shocked that the process of trial and error involves error. A funny look at the reality of perfecting a new cake design.
About The Real AF Bakery Life
You see polished frosting and sold-out signs on my feed, but that is only half the story. There are quiet Tuesdays where the phone does not ring, supplier delivery scooters break down in the Mumbai rain, and yes, the dishes pile up just like yours. This is what it actually looks like when you try to keep a small-batch, handmade kitchen running in South Bombay without the polished marketing filter.
Every morning starts long before the sun hits the streets of Colaba. It begins with the logistics—my regular runs to Crawford Market. If you bake in this country, you know the dance: dodging traffic, coordinating with vendors like Lobo or Arife, and hauling glass jars back on a scooter. It is not glamorous, but it is necessary for the quality I promise.
My team and I operate a kitchen that is lean by choice. We have had our share of staff turnover and 'learning experiences.' There is no HR department to smooth over a bad day or a forgotten label. When something goes wrong—and it will—we own it, fix it, and move on.
I started in Goregaon five years ago with just my mom as my sous-chef and a lot of nerve. That tiny kitchen taught me more than any culinary school could. Whether it is a slow afternoon with zero orders or a massive wedding rush where we are working until 3 AM, every single tray that comes out of the oven has my fingerprints on it. I share this because I want you to know exactly who and what you are supporting when you order from me. No facade, no mass-production, just real ingredients and enough sass to keep it interesting.
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