Hello, and welcome to Lost Hill! My name is Andrea Carter McPharlin, and this is a collection of musings and projects from my small home kitchen in El Cerrito, CA. I am a self-taught turned professional baker who quit my day job to fully immerse myself in the alchemy of sugar, butter, eggs and flour. Literally. It gets real messy. I obsess over textures and the nostalgia of taste, and I love the place where science and intuition intersect. I also worship marzipan and have a severe bias towards almond desserts. You’ve been warned.

Flaky strata of golden pastry haunt my dreams, and have for quite some time. As do giant tidal waves of doom, but we can chat about nightmares later. I grew up in the Seattle area as a very shy kid surrounded by petite bird-like women who often communicated most clearly through food. My mom cooked and baked from scratch, turning tough days and meager pantry items into something extraordinary. My aunt meticulously made extravagant dinners that introduced new tastes and techniques. Both of them, each in their own way, taught me the magic of time spent in the kitchen. They still do.

Amidst the pressures of young adulthood, I somehow forgot you could forge a path doing what you love, and instead insisted on trying to save the world. In a surprise to absolutely nobody, I failed, and, owing my last shred of depression-soaked sanity to the kind, wise words of my department’s staff, I started working in higher edu admin. Most of my time, however, was spent daydreaming of my next baking project. In the evenings I returned home to the kitchen as my source of comfort and creativity.

Life stuff happened, love was lost, and in 2009 I finally decided to move away from grey Seattle to San Francisco, where the sun shines almost every afternoon (the reality of cost of living had yet to destroy my soul). After a few years of maneuvering through the highs and lows of adjusting to a beautiful yet devastatingly expensive new city, and just when I thought I’d had enough, I found Sean. We fell madly in love, got hitched, and moved to the East Bay to a little house with a giant meyer lemon tree. He gave me the support and push I needed to step out of my comfort zone and try baking as a job. He still does.

I started at Three Babes Bakeshop as a timid, pre-Thanksgiving pie madness baking assistant with zero experience, and eventually became a lead baker, training new staff and keeping weekends running smoothly. I learned how to function in a commercial kitchen, built some muscle, burnt the crap out of my arms, and made more pie than I ever thought possible. I adore those ladies, and miss them daily.

Now I’m here, navigating the unknowns as I attempt to start my own business. I’m a slow-moving, cautious creature. Blogs are still cool, right? On one hand, it seems like it has taken forever to get this going. On the other, I feel that I’ve barely paid my dues. Either way, I’m glad you’ve stopped by. I’m excited to share my stories and recipes. Stay tuned for more soon.