Baking is, I suspect, our oldest form of culinary expression, a delicate dance of time, temperature, and the natural world that nourishes both body and soul. On a quiet weekday afternoon, I meet Kelly Gee at her bakery, The Witching Flour, tucked away in a nondescript section of Eubank in Albuquerque. In this small yet evocative space, Kelly is quietly revolutionizing what it means to be a baker. This isn’t just any bakery; her creations aren’t just pastries. This is where tradition and creativity converge in an effortless and profound way, much like an artist who, having mastered her craft, now plays with its boundaries simply because she can.
Kelly’s journey to opening The Witching Flour wasn’t the result of some grand plan or meticulously crafted business strategy. Rather, it was a blend of intuition, passion, and fate. “I’ve always liked food and cooking,” Kelly shared, “but it wasn’t until culinary school that I realized baking was where my heart truly lay.”
The Quiet Revolution of The Witching Flour
But it wasn’t just any baking that captured Kelly’s imagination. The alchemy of flavors, the combination of the unexpected, truly sets her apart. “People always ask how I come up with these flavor profiles,” Kelly muses, “and I think it’s because I can taste things before making them. I know what something will taste like in my mind before it ever hits the oven.”
This ability to anticipate and craft flavors allows Kelly to break away from the norms. While many bakeries focus on the classics — the almond croissants and the chocolate chip cookies — Kelly pushes the boundaries. “I didn’t want to do the greatest hits,” she says. “Everyone makes almond croissants, and they’re great, but I wanted to show people that there’s so much more out there.”
The path to opening The Witching Flour was anything but straightforward.
Yet, the path to opening The Witching Flour was anything but straightforward. Kelly recalls the challenges of starting her own business with no mentor, no clear direction, and only a desire to create something unique. “I went into it pretty blindly,” she admits. “And I didn’t know what any of it was going to look like. But I just wanted to make something different, and luckily, people were receptive.”
And receptive they were. The pandemic, a time when many businesses struggled, oddly became a period of growth for Kelly. As the demand for her pastries grew, so did the need for space. It wasn’t long before she opened the doors to The Witching Flour on Halloween of 2023, a fitting date for a bakery with a name that hints at the supernatural.
But don’t be mistaken — there’s no hocus-pocus involved in Kelly’s baking. Her process is deeply intuitive, grounded in a sensory understanding of her ingredients. “I’m an intuitive baker,” she says. “It’s not really science to me; it’s more about how things feel, smell, and even the sounds they make.” This approach might seem at odds with the precision often associated with baking, but for Kelly, it’s a method that allows her to innovate constantly.
A philosophy of innovation
Her commitment to using a hundred percent sourdough starter is a testament to this philosophy. “I became obsessed with sourdough,” she says. “It’s such a different process, allowing for much experimentation.” This obsession led to a menu that changes weekly, where classic pastries sit alongside creations that are anything but typical. “My brain is always going,” she laughs, “and I think people have come to expect that there will be something new and exciting each week.”
The decor of The Witching Flour mirrors the uniqueness of Kelly’s pastries. Filled with taxidermy, vintage finds, and curiosities, the space is as much a reflection of her personality as it is a backdrop for her baking. “I’ve always liked creepy, dark things,” she says, “but my pastries are kind of the opposite of that. It’s all a juxtaposition.”
This blend of the unexpected — the dark and the light, the traditional and the innovative — makes The Witching Flour a place like no other. And while Kelly admits that it’s still a job at the end of the day, she’s grateful for the creative freedom it affords her. “I get to make my own schedule, plan my day how I want it to go, and constantly play with new ideas,” she says.
In a world where bakeries often play it safe, Kelly Gee’s The Witching Flour dares to be different. It’s a place where each bite offers a taste of the unexpected, where baking is less a science and more an art form, and where the magic of flavor is always in the air. Kelly says, “It’s all about balance, about getting the most flavor out of something through the simplest preparations. That’s where the magic really happens.”
Story by Gabe Gomez / Photography by Amanda Powell
Subscribe to TABLE Magazine‘s print edition
