Baking is where everything goes quiet
I'm autistic, and baking is my escape. It's the one place where the steps make sense, the measuring is calming, and at the end there's something I can hand to someone else.
The Unique Batch started in my own kitchen, baking for family who kept asking for more. I was diagnosed as autistic after a long stretch of life where I couldn't work out why everything felt harder than it looked for everyone else. Getting that answer changed how I saw myself — and baking is what I'd been leaning on the whole time without realising it.
A recipe is a set of clear steps with a real result at the end. There's no guessing what someone means. The weighing, the folding, the waiting — it all slows my head down. And then I get to give someone a box of something I made carefully, which is a kinder way of saying things than I usually manage with words.
That's the whole point of this bakery. You can do anything you put your mind to. Being different isn't the thing holding you back — often it's the thing that makes what you do worth having.
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"I want people to see that you can build something of your own, even when the way you experience the world makes that harder. Every box that leaves here is proof of that."
How I work, plainly
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Every batch goes up on Instagram first
New flavours, what's in the oven, and the odd honest post about the harder days.