People find the site, like what they see, and then look for the address. There isn’t one to visit. That surprises a fair number of them, and this is the piece I should have written a year ago.
The short version. Nothing here is baked ahead and put in a case. You order, we bake it, we bring it to you. The cart needs 24 hours, it asks for a delivery day and a window before you pay, and someone has to be home to take the box. That’s the whole system. The rest of this is the detail.
Why there is no counter
A bakery with a storefront bakes for a case. It guesses the day’s demand, bakes toward it, sells what it can, and either discounts or throws away what’s left at closing. That model is fine for bread. For a madeleine, which has a life measured in hours, it is a compromise from the first minute.
Baking to order removes the case from the equation. A box of madeleines from this kitchen was batter that morning. A fraisier was assembled for the day you asked for. Nothing has waited for you. That’s what you’re paying for, and it’s only possible because the order comes first and the baking second.
It also means I don’t stretch a piece across the week. If it wasn’t ordered, it wasn’t baked.
Placing the order
The menu is on the home page: the madeleines in seven flavors, the tartelettes, the mini quiche trio, and the whole cakes. Add what you want to the cart and go to checkout.
Before you pay, the cart asks for two things. The day you want the order delivered, and a window: morning, midday, or afternoon. The earliest day it will offer is tomorrow, because everything is baked after the order comes in, and it will not offer a Monday, because the kitchen is closed on Mondays. Both answers travel with the order, so they show up in your confirmation and in the note that reaches me.
Whole cakes are the exception on timing. A Fraisier or the gluten-free orange and pistachio cake needs 48 hours at minimum, so the day you pick for a cake should be at least two days out. The cart won’t stop you from choosing tomorrow for a cake. I will, by email, and we will agree a day that works.
Payment is by card at checkout. The moment it goes through, you get a confirmation listing what you ordered, the total, and the address you gave. The next email from me is the delivery day and window, confirmed.
Where we deliver
Local delivery covers roughly fifteen miles from the kitchen in The Woodlands. In practice that is most of The Woodlands, Conroe, Tomball, and Magnolia, and the addresses along I-45 and FM 1488 between them. There’s one flat delivery charge inside that circle, and it’s shown in the cart before you pay.
If your address is outside that circle, write to me before you order rather than after. Some addresses are workable with a little planning. Events anywhere in greater Houston are handled separately through the private calendar, where the delivery is part of a larger conversation.
The day it arrives
Someone needs to be there. This is the part that goes wrong most often, and it goes wrong for an understandable reason: people order a week ahead, life happens, and on the day nobody is home in the window they chose.
A box of madeleines left on a porch in Texas is a box of warm madeleines. A cream cake left on a porch is a loss. So the delivery is to a person, and if the window you picked stops working, tell me as soon as you know. Changing a window a day ahead is easy. Changing it while the driver is on your street is not.
When the box is in your hands, the first ten minutes decide the rest of the day: cream and fruit into the refrigerator, madeleines on the counter, nothing in the freezer.
Ordering for someone else
You can put any address inside the delivery area in the cart, which means a box of madeleines can go straight to a friend’s door, a new neighbor, or the person who put you up last weekend. It works well and people do it more than you’d expect.
Two things make it work. Warn them. A stranger at the door with a box, unannounced, is a surprise in the wrong way, and if nobody answers we are back to the porch problem. And reply to your confirmation email with their name, so the driver asks for the right person at the door.
The hours, and what they mean
The hours on the site are order and delivery hours, not shop hours. Tuesday through Friday from seven in the morning to six in the evening, Saturday from eight to six, Sunday from eight to two, and closed Monday. Those are the hours someone will answer the phone and the hours a delivery can land. They aren’t an invitation to drive over; there’s nothing at the other end but a working kitchen.
Sunday is worth a note. Delivery runs until two, so a Sunday order is a morning order: brunch, a family lunch, a box for the drive home. Plan for that rather than a Sunday evening.
What to do if you are not sure
If the thing you want isn’t on the menu, or the count is bigger than a box or two, or you need it for an office rather than a house, don’t try to force it through the cart. Send a note with the date, the address, and roughly what you have in mind. I read every message and I will tell you plainly what makes sense. For anything with a room full of people at the other end, I wrote out how the timing works, and the answer is always the same: hold the date first, decide the menu later.
For a box of madeleines for Thursday, though, the cart is the fastest way. Pick the day, pick the window, and be there when the doorbell goes.