A Pastry Star Grows in Indy
How does one meet the Indianapolis baking star singled out by our nation’s most revered food publications in their annual “Best New Restaurant” issue? Anxiously. While a global pandemic still courses through the country, I suggested meeting at Garfield Park’s farmers market on a hot, Saturday in August. Pastry chef Zoë Taylor, who in 2015 put a gluten-free honey whey cake recipe in Bon Appétit, and Indy on the culinary map, happens to be seven-months pregnant, and I begin to feel, frankly, stupid.
After texting each other our rendezvous point, Taylor and her belly—along with partner, Josh Kline; their 3-year-old son, Guy; and her mother, Guyanne—traipse up to meet me. Hair, the color of coffee with streaks of cream, arranged like a buttercream floret on her head, and wearing a tank shift dress, she appears as though she emerged out of a walk-in fridge, relaxed and refreshed. I offer my regrets for thinking the crowded location was a clever idea. Still, she states she feels good about gathering outside. From her response I gather the accolades from her cooking haven’t touched her. Her rise to the yeasty top seems like a reenactment of Lady Gaga’s A Star is Born. In her case, Taylor debuted on a local stage, the much-lauded Milktooth, becoming a culinary celebrity in the process.
Looking for a place where we can speak without noise, she suggests sitting on a knoll underneath a shady tree. We meander over to the Sunken Garden at the conservatory and find a place there. As we stroll, she presents a soothing demeanor. I realize it’s how she navigated the public attention in local food media and her social media posts following an abrupt termination for both her and Kline from Milktooth.
Taylor’s manifestations defy dessert categories. At one of her gatherings, she created a sweet-and-sour textural masterpiece by topping a crusty cinnamon roll with kefir cream cheese frosting and rhubarb preserves.
She traverses the grass, mud and crowds without a dewy rivulet, with a baby bump. Yeah, she is a calm AF, bad-ass baking mother.
We settle into a couple chairs overlooking serene summer blooms from the public terrace, Taylor notes, “Termination from Milktooth was the best thing that could have ever happened to us.” She shrugs. Story over. She moved on and launched a pop-up called Sourpuss Bakes as the world inches out of a global health crisis. These are not simple items like a cupcake with swirled buttercream, a doughnut topped with sprinkles, or even a chocolate layer cake drizzled with ganache. Taylor’s manifestations defy dessert categories. At one of her gatherings, she created a sweet-and-sour textural masterpiece by topping a crusty cinnamon roll with kefir cream cheese frosting and rhubarb preserves.
Born in Dallas, Texas, and raised with parents in broadcast and commercial advertising, Taylor’s upbringing was a transient process throughout the United States. Her mother ran television stations, and her father worked in several marketing agencies. During it all, her parents remained big on family meals. “Both my parents were avid cooks,” remembers Taylor. “My dad would open up a Julia Child cookbook at 7:30 (in the evening), and we wouldn’t eat until 10:30. We were starving by the time we ate, but it was always delicious. My mother can, just like, look into a pantry, find three random things and make something tasty.”
While attending college at the University of Wisconsin, Green Bay, she worked at a local coffee shop, “a crunchy granola place,” she says. “One day, I turned to the owners—great people—and asked if I could maybe bake, saving them money. At the time, we were getting goods from a large corporate food distributor. We tried, and it worked. I baked through college.”
One semester, she went to Paris since she was acquiring a bachelor’s in French and English literature (“Not the most employment-inducing,” she wryly comments). She lived in the 13th Arrondissement, commonly referred to as the Asian Quarter, home to many immigrants. “While there, I found myself eating a lot and trying different things.” Her father, though, became ill, and she returned to the States. After his untimely death, she finished school but resumed her culinary education in the kitchen, doling out well-crafted bakery goods and caffeinated beverages to university students.
“Because of my home life and [because I enjoyed] being in the kitchen, it felt like everything fell into place,” she says. “The owners were very particular about what the customers wanted. They were getting this product from [the wholesaler]. I tried to make homemade versions, and then, kind of once I got comfortable with copying [the products], it morphed into something else.”
While we chat, I perceive that Taylor never had any formal training. A degree in making puff pastry isn’t a necessity and self-taught cooks abound. Culinary school provides fundamental, formal training in specific dessert-making techniques such as forming chocolate from cocoa nibs to doughs from various flours such as almond, corn, or rice. Taylor was born a gifted baker.
Zoë Taylor, Josh Kline and their son standing at what will be the new Borage location in Speedway. Vegetables provided by Mad Farmers Collective.
One semester, she went to Paris since she was acquiring a bachelor’s in French and English literature (“Not the most employment-inducing,” she wryly comments). She lived in the 13th Arrondissement, commonly referred to as the Asian Quarter, home to many immigrants. “While there, I found myself eating a lot and trying different things.”
“I never felt it was a calling, per se,” she says. “I feel like it was all just pieces falling together. I felt really comfortable in a kitchen because of my home life. And the job was my first baking opportunity and there was a lot of trust. It was a fortunate foundation for me to have, moving forward.”
Her mom packed up for a new job opportunity in Indianapolis. Taylor, with a liberal arts degree, followed. “I was so used to moving at that point, so I was, like, why not?” Immediately, the hands-on experience led her to work at the acclaimed Bluebeard in Fountain Square, helmed by five-times James Beard Best Chef semi-finalist Abbi Merriss.
“I was really lucky to get a job right away as the assistant pastry chef,” she says. “And I loved working with Abbi. Bluebeard is a culinary force in Indy. Their sister bakery, Amelia’s, is right next door. At one point, they needed a baker and so I moved over there.”
“Zoë was actually doing pastry for our restaurant,” recalls award-winning baker Charlie McIntosh, who co-owns Amelia’s Bakery with father-and-son team Tom and Edward Battista, who are also co-owners of Bluebeard with Merriss. “When I met her, [Taylor] expressed interest in moving over to Amelia’s. I didn’t know her well, but I liked what she had done up to that point. She knew, I think, the important things to do. She was not afraid of working hard, a desire to be better, a creative mind to try out new things and not let the concern of messing something up, hold her back. It is nice to think we had a positive effect on her in her professional journey.”
Taylor says, “Charlie and I were building this pastry program. I was only working [at Amelia’s] for eight months when one of the co-founders of Milktooth contacted me and was, like, ‘I want you to be a pastry chef at [our restaurant].’” During her tenure, she baked multi-layered pairings (such as a croissant Bostock with toasted oat, marjoram frangipane, raspberries, swathed in a coffee glaze; or a croissant made with spicy goat cheese, corn and preserved chanterelle) while gaining national notices for the restaurant and herself.
Five years later, with glowing reviews, she’s now on to exciting new things, manifesting an empire to call her own with her partner, Kline. Early 2022, the couple plans to open Borage, a new dining experience in the Speedway.
During her tenure, she baked multi-layered pairings (such as a croissant Bostock with toasted oat, marjoram frangipane, raspberries, swathed in a coffee glaze; or a croissant made with spicy goat cheese, corn and preserved chanterelle) while gaining national notices for the restaurant and herself.
Taylor made a lasting impression, including on many of her Milktooth colleagues at Milktooth “I was so excited to have an opportunity to work for her,” says Erica Caputo, a former assistant cook as well as a good friend. She now resides in South Carolina with her husband, putting together her tasty treats. “She changed me in how I approach recipes and seasonal ingredients, and in just feeling freer and more confident in the kitchen. Her bold and unique flavor pairing opened my mind to what’s even possible in pastry. Furthermore, she taught me that baking doesn’t have to be exact and rigid—that so much is by fun and feel, and sometimes winging it.”
“We enjoyed working together,” emailed Chelsea Roberts, who now works at Pots & Pans Pie Co. in Broad Ripple. Taylor is “very inventive and wasn’t scared to push the boundaries in pastry.”
The next time I meet up with Taylor, it’s a little past 8 on a Sunday morning at the eclectic Love Handle, a downtown Indy joint popular for breakfast and lunch. Festooned with hipster garage-sale finds and salvaged vintage from the ’50s to the ’70s, the place bounces with 20-somethings engaged on their phones. It’s an apt atmosphere to host one of Taylor’s monthly bake sales, as the space with its festive, magpie décor mirrors her dough inventions. Hair hidden beneath a broad black band, glasses, flour-dusted apron stretched over her midsection and with a razor-sharp focus, Taylor boxes Sourpuss Bakers delectables for those pre-ordered through her social media account. Of course, I didn’t, so I queue up with all the others vying for an inventive cinnamon bun or a slice of a wildly novel, three-tiered gateau.
A graying baby-boomer couple takes in the chalkboard menu and mumbles something through their masks to each other in front of me. I inquire if they’ve been there before. “Oh yes,” the woman nods. “We come for the cakes but grab something to eat while we wait.” They give their selections to the cashier and move far from the kitchen, plopping by the entrance, waiting for the baker to bring their order. The lady types away on her device, oblivious to the black velvet clown paintings leering down—her husband waves through the window to someone passing by. Soon hungry eyes follow the mother-tobe carrying four boxes, gently packed with a dozen of her carefully prepared goods. Grateful, she smiles at them and thanks to them for the purchase. They and the other groupies know a star when they taste one.
BORAGE
Borage, the new, plantfocused concept from Taylor and her partner, Josh Kline, portends what the couple feels passionate about: dough and vegetables. Located seven blocks west of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, the bakery, restaurant, coffee bar and small market complex promises an early 2022 opening and suggests becoming the next best thing in Indy since sliced bread. Taylor states the name is derived from the edible Mediterranean plant “because it’s not native to the area,” like the owners, who “aspire to become a beneficial part of the community.” It’s also one of the first plants she grew.
The couple deem their food “progressive American,” remarking they want to include the many cultures which make up our country. Still in the design process, Borage will seat 60 indoors, with a patio. The shop will provide prepared house-made items like stocks, frozen foods, as well as meals for office workers. Indianagrown produce will be offered with local cheese and curated gifts, along with beer and wine. Importantly, their vision includes eliminating tipping, instead offering profit-sharing to all the employees. Current plans include breakfast and lunch, seven days a week. Dinner will be for scheduled Friday–Sunday. Borage will be located at 5240 W. 16th St. in Speedway. Follow @borageeats on Instagram for opening details.