Whitney Cleary - Morning Glory Bread
Edited by Marina Crouse
Nocturnal Adventures
At midnight, Morning Glory’s Farmstand would be camouflaged if not for the sliver of light emitted from the side entrance. The bakery, the sole source of life from “Mo Glo” during these hours, is nearly hidden away. Cedar shake blends into the quiet scenery of Meshacket Road, but the dulled clatter of pans and warm glow spilling out into the parking lot hints at activity taking place inside.
Stepping beyond the threshold, you’re engulfed in the hum of ovens, fans, and 90’s R&B competing for auditory real estate. Approach the speed racks on the way to the kitchen and you’ll see boules: crisp shells cooling as their interiors continue to cook, evolving from their doughy state into delectable crumb. Forty-eight hours ago they were bubbling, pillowy blobs of natural yeast, consuming sugar while releasing carbon dioxide and alcohol. For the past two days they’ve been fed, folded, and deposited into scorching Dutch ovens.
Round the corner and you will not discover a flurry of flour and rolling pins, but the precise choreography of two figures, Whitney Cleary and Teresa Kirkpatrick, the farm’s artisanal bread bakers. As Whitney dexterously shapes dough, Teresa maneuvers trays of rising loaves behind her, navigating the tables and mixers in her path. They switch off continuously, tending to the batches in various stages of baking, all the while keeping an eye on the ovens. Cleary’s day began at 5pm and the last of the late-shift crew left an hour ago. For many of the farm’s workers, the only evidence of Whitney is her picture on the employee wall. And the bread. Of course, the bread.
“It never feels successful until you take the lids off those cast irons and see how the bread turned out,” Whitney notes, “because sometimes there’s so much doubt along the way. A successful day is when you see the end product looking the way you hoped it would look.”
With over seven years of baking experience, Whitney is keenly familiar with cooperative bread, as well as the experiments that “end up in the trunk of our cars.” Those attempting home baking for the first time in 2020 probably discovered a fact bakers have been privy to forever: yeast breads can be needy and temperamental. Sourdough is a particularly high-maintenance variety; it requires a meticulous eye as it morphs from starter - Whitney and Teresa’s are affectionately named Verna and Gladys - to tableside staple.
At 2am, Whitney exhibits the same deliberateness sipping tea from her mug as she does when flipping dough out of a proofing basket and scoring intricate patterns on its floured surface. No signs of fumbling in these designs, just efficient movements. Sometimes they’re leaves, often swirling grains, changing seasonally and according to the bread. They resemble the strokes she makes with a paintbrush. When she’s not baking, Whitney enjoys recreating the local landscapes on canvas. Perhaps she strives to convey the island’s essence through the senses: oil-painted sepia tones engage the visual and tactile, while the grains indulge the olfactory and gustatory.
Grain Migration
Whitney says she moved to Martha’s Vineyard in 2014 when she was “looking to make a big change.” After speaking to a friend who was spending the summer on the island, Whitney found the motivation to explore new territory.
“I was just at that point of surrender in my life, like ‘take me with you, I don’t care, this is terrifying.’ But I started looking for jobs.” Baking was a hobby for Whitney at first, but when she discovered an opportunity in that field she decided to dive in. “I was like ‘Here we go!’” she chuckles with a slight shrug, “If I never moved here, I don’t think I would be pursuing this.”
Since arriving on the island, Whitney has appreciated the resourcefulness that abounds among vineyarders.
“I don’t know what it is about this place,” she concedes mirthfully, “but I think there’s an appreciation of that small-town vibe here. People are always looking for the best product, so within the realm of Martha’s Vineyard, kind of everyone’s in the running for that. There’s like this border on what’s here, who wants to be part of it? And if you want to be a part of it, it’s like ‘alright, jump on in!’ I think there’s an appreciation for the hands-on, homemade, made-on-the-Vineyard mentality here, for sure.”
Whitney was quick to find others who shared that mentality. She connected with Teresa during her first season at Morning Glory, establishing the roots for future collaboration. Teresa worked in Edgartown for two seasons before departing for the mainland six years ago. After gaining exposure to the restaurant and farmers’ market scenes, she returned to Morning Glory full time in June 2020. During their countless shifts together since, Cleary and Kirkpatrick have not been idle. They are constantly observing, analyzing, and experimenting with their creations. Teresa playfully refers to the shoulder season nights as “mad scientist times” during which the pair test out new, inventive recipes.
“Did you hear about the potato chip sourdough?” Whitney bows her head, laughing, “I feel like the world isn’t ready for it yet.”
Among the many flavors they’ve tried out include sweet potato, fig and fennel, beet, and butterfly pea sesame. (Objectively speaking, culinary professions have the best type of research.) While Whitney appreciates the farm’s daily breads, she places a premium on creativity.
“We try to hit our numbers but in a way that’s not monotonous, with also the customer in mind. (We) do different things while also trying to use the most organic, most natural process of bread baking.”
High-Maintenance Deliciousness
Describing the logistics, Whitney points to one factor as most crucial to the success of her bread.
“I’m always thinking about what the temperature in the bakery is. We’re never open in January, so that’s been quite the adventure (this year) to figure out how that can work for us.”
Though the exact numbers are unknown, considerably more residents than usual stayed on the island after last summer. Consequently, Cleary and Kirkpatrick faced a surprisingly high demand for their bread during this past offseason. This posed an invigorating challenge, causing the bakers to adapt their methods to accommodate the chillier months.
“Our starter was not happy, it didn’t feel good, our sourdoughs weren’t coming out great,” Whitney states, “it just seemed like such a mystery.”
Once they started using a proof box to accommodate the frigid conditions however, the bread thrived. Whitney laughs at her initial theories about the source of the problem. She shakes her head, “Just such a simple solution. Instead I was thinking maybe there’s just too much sanitizer on the bucket and it’s killing the yeast... like maybe it’s the moon, the tides!” Whitney jokes as she continues her commentary of troubleshooting, “Gotta bring my crystals to work and say a prayer. It’s like ‘no, it’s just too cold!’ So it’s simple little things. Bread can be very scary, even when you do it every day. When it starts to go wrong, it’s like your world is caving in on you. So to figure out something that’s as simple as that is like ‘yes! Triumph!’”
Excluding the curveball of a temperature drop, Whitney is attuned to the various conditions affecting her bread. In fact, the Vineyard’s environment is essentially Whitney’s default for baking.
“I’ve actually never baked off the island,” she observes, “it’s kind of the only thing I know.”
Patience & Follow Through
Regardless of where a baker starts out, patience and follow through are among the first things they’ll learn, Whitney claims. By 4am, these skills are essential. In fact, they must become second nature when the cups of coffee consumed can no longer be counted on one hand, podcasts have replaced the upbeat music on the speakers, and conversation has yielded to the singular focus of removing the batches at the right time. The two-day investment of attention will result in either paydirt or the compost pile.
For the bread that has thrived, the bread that elicits a sigh of relief or even the occasional fist-pump, Whitney and Teresa wonder about the role it will play in customers' culinary endeavors.
“I think about that a lot, actually. It’s easy to forget that each loaf of bread is going to someone’s kitchen, their home, so I am curious. I’d love to hear what people do with our bread. I hope they walk in, see a nice crusty loaf of bread and think ‘oh I’d like to make pasta tonight and have this bread on the side.’ I hope it’s a part of something bigger.”
Whitney and Teresa both mention that they check Instagram tags, hoping to see the types of dishes in which their bread is ending up. They often discuss these hopes along with their projections for the day as the sky has begun to lighten. Unsurprisingly, their clean up routine is as choreographed as the baking itself. While Whitney sweeps, Teresa does a distinct dance move to remember which ovens she’s shut off and doors she’s locked (do you remember putting the cap on the toothpaste this morning?). A shimmy as the oven knob gets cranked to 12 o’clock. The breads continue their leisurely cool, some even “singing” if you listen carefully. In twelve hours the bakers will return to discover what has captivated the clientele that day. For Whitney and Teresa, the questions will go a bit beyond ‘was the goat cheese too subtle in the focaccia?’ or ‘did the semolina proof enough?’
“I like that our bread is different, I want it to be signaturely ours.” Whitney says, “I hope when people eat it they know that a lot of thought, and time, and consideration went into it. And that every part of the process was considered and decisions were made along the way and it was the end product of a journey, not just that night and the night before, but, you know, all the mistakes that came before it. And triumphs.”
When Cleary retires for the morning, the rest of Edgartown begins to stir. Walking through the bustling farmstand and viewing the freshly-wrapped boules, you’re likely to discover a balance of the humble and the bold. As you cut into the finished product (whether it’s grabbing a quick bite, or pairing the slices with beef bourguignon) you’re experiencing Whitney and Teresa’s version of the Vineyard. Each sourdough, anadama, and wheat synthesizes the island’s sense of risk-taking with the perseverance found at 2am. Whitney’s bread serves as a journal; not only of the graveyard shifts, but of her jump into island life.
“Every time you make a dough, you learn something new about it,” she explains. “I hope people can tell that it’s a thoughtful, soulful process.”
Want to try Whitney’s bread for yourself? Head over to Morning Glory Farm and choose from varieties like sourdough, multigrain, and anadama, among many others!
To see Whitney’s Vineyard-inspired paintings, you can check out her website or view them in person at the Featherstone Center for the Arts between July 8 and August 1!
