Courtesy of Courtenay Harris
Courtenay Harris woke up one day recently to something sweeter than his best-tasting dessert offering.
His burgeoning bakery had just received the desperately needed, proverbial shot in the arm he had spent long hours laboring for over the past five years. It was a break that came completely out of the blue.
As if perhaps an angel had interceded on his behalf.
It’s certainly not a long shot possibility, but whatever the case might have been, Harris’ little-known Christopher’s Bakery recently rose to the top of the Dallas Morning News’ best-of readers’ choice awards in the category of “best bakery.”
Based in Grapevine, Christopher’s Bakery is an online concept founded by Harris in 2016. His signature dessert is a vanilla wafer cake his father made famous within the family, their school, and their church as Harris was growing up. It includes raisins, pecans, coconut, and dried cranberries.
“As a kid, I loved it,” says Harris, recalling fondly cleaning — that is, licking — all the baking tools as his dad finished up the baking of the vanilla wafer cake. “My father [an educator] always just gave the cake away — to teachers, co-workers, and people at our church.
Courtesy of Courtenay Harris
“As I got older and got a business degree, I said to my dad, ‘You could make money with this? Why are you just giving it away?’ It was not in the goodness of his heart. He could never bring himself to sell it. We were having this conversation again [later], and he looked at me and in his own frustration gave me a moment of clarity. He said, ‘One, I don’t know business, and, two, I’m too old to do this.'”
For Harris, it was an epiphany: He did have a background in business, a bachelor’s degree. And, as a young man, he had the energy the enterprise would require.
Today, Harris, a Miami, Florida, native, teaches audio/visual arts and communication at Grapevine High School by day, and he bakes at night at a commercial kitchen he leases in Irving. They can be long days when the orders pile in, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Harris also does cakes, cupcakes/muffins, and cookies. During the holidays, pies make an appearance on the menu. They’re all family recipes, he says. He’ll personally deliver within 50 miles and is working on packaging to send more stuff out across the country. He said his bundt cake has been all around the country.
Not the same one, mind you.
That his business is still operating is nothing short of a minor miracle. This business of starting a business requires the rind of an armadillo. The journey, he says, has been a “circuitous route.” When he mustered up the courage — his word, courage — to make the leap into entrepreneurship it was literally a leap. He quit his job teaching at Arlington Sam Houston to devote all his time and energy to the baking business.
He had some savings and some retirement funds. He pushed all those chips in, building his own website, creating a logo, packaging, and all the research needed to advance the concept. He also did some crowdfunding, which in the end raised about $1,000, he says.
He had enough money to attend a trade show in San Francisco, which generated some good leads, but when he returned, he discovered he didn’t have enough money to fulfill any orders. Amazon presented a promising possibility with a concept called a “surprise sweets box,” which he took part in, but ultimately lost money because he was under the impression the company giant would pay for shipping when, in fact, he was supposed to build it into his costs and price structure.
The beginning truly was an operation performed without an anesthetic, but rather than be like a jackrabbit making for his hole, Harris merely took a step back and did more discerning. And went back to work teaching.
“I’ve learned some hard lessons,” Harris says. “I was telling a friend that patience pays off. Take your lessons. Don’t try to force things. Put your head down and work and provide people with the best that you can possibly provide them with, and good things will eventually come.”
He believes he is on the precipice of good things becoming a regular thing.
Harris hopes one day to offer his treats at sports venues. He’s a big sports fan and worked for ESPN in Bristol, Connecticut, some years ago. There is a lack of options in those settings, he believes.
“I’d love to get into those venues, places where people don’t have as many options and a wider array to choose from,” he says.
He has no idea who nominated him for the best-of competition. Earning gold has resulted in a boost in sales, he says.
“I wish they would reveal themselves, but the support of people who had tried or bought my products has been overwhelming,” Harris says. “Sometimes I am in shock that I made it. I had to learn a lot of hard lessons and go through difficult times, but it seems to be worth it.”
The bakery is named for Harris’ brother, Christopher, who died as a child, just days shy of his 11th birthday, from Sudden Unexpected Death in Epilepsy. According to the Centers for Disease Control, there are 1.16 cases of SUDEP for every 1,000 people with epilepsy. Christopher was six years younger than Harris. Harris said he spent a lot of time with Christopher, the older brother watching over his younger sibling as their parents worked often to provide.
“I always wanted to do something as a tribute to him,” Harris says. “I could think of no better way to honor my brother than name the bakery after him. That is why we have the name.”
Moreover, Harris has partnered with the Nicklaus Children’s Hospital in Miami, where Christopher spent many of his days, to donate a percentage of all sales to epilepsy and neuroscience research.
A minor miracle Christopher's Bakery is still going, or the designs of an angel? That, we'll never know.