I am a lover of rural bakeries. Always have been, always will be.
I find that the baked goods outside of city centers often have a clear connection to the land or their community. Far more than urban bakeries, they engage with things like local flour, dairy, eggs, and produce. Urban bakeries disproportionately focus on shipping in sheets of butter from France and recreating international experiences with predictable flour.
My favorite rural bakeries are formed when someone leaves the city to build a bakery and then goes to talk to a farmer about getting local flour. That’s Erin Lucas and Mateo Mackbee of Flour & Flower and Krewe in a nutshell.
The couple grew up inside Twin Cities’ restaurants but left to open Model Citizen inside of Goat Ridge Brewery in New London in 2018. They focused on sourcing from all of the farmers within 100 miles, but also invested in their community, leading cooking classes for neighboring schools and farm field trips as well. It was definitely a day-trip worthy restaurant. It closed in 2020 (this was announced before the pandemic) due to the brewery deciding not to renew its lease. At that point, they were already in the process of opening Krewe (their sister New Orleans style restaurant).
Flour & Flower is in a tiny little building behind Krewe and it has focused on the same ethics that Lucas and Mackbee brought to Model Citizen. They partner with a local eggs from Tierra Luna Farm. They source local maple syrup from Wildwood Ranch and Avon Hills Folk School. They get their honey from a couple with a hobby farm and their flour comes from Whole Grain Milling. They get local produce and meat from a series of purveyors. Their flowers are local, from Pluck Flower Farm and Katie Ballantine. They even have local jewelry from Paper Mountain.
This is why I chase rural bakeries and rural restaurants. These ethics are baked into the DNA of many of them in a way they aren’t in the city.
The Twin Cities writing scene and guests alike have ignored many of our rural and suburban bakeries for a long time, choosing to eat within the city limits and not venture out even as far as Columbia Heights for donuts (please go to Heights Donuts, it is 10 minutes from Marty’s!). Most best of lists for our local bakeries leave out rural bakeries, but they also leave out panaderias* and cottage bakers (many of whom are our best). We have a very French lean in our top bakery lists, often leaving out specialty places like pie (baked good!), cookies (baked good!), donuts (baked good!), and cinnamon buns (baked good!).
*I cannot believe I am saying this, but Eater actually has the best “best bakery” list of the Twin Cities right now and it does include a panaderia.
So when the New York Times announced that Flour & Flower, which is 90 minutes outside of the city limits, was one of the best bakeries in the country, I immediately went to look at mentions of them in our major publications. Did any local writers give them a full, solo write-up? A review?
In the Strib, mostly they are relegated to listicles or mentions in pieces that focus on sister restaurant Krewe and not the bakery itself. So too for MSP, which did name sister restaurant Krewe in their top 50 of 2024.
This was a moment where I felt like the New York Times was doing its job. Its responsibility is partly to find places that have been overlooked by local press. But I also don’t blame our local press for not focusing on them.
When people won’t even cross the river to go to the other city without a big fuss, why would they write a review of a bakery that far away?
I’ve sort of set out on a mission to find Minnesota’s 20 best bakeries, including non brick-and-mortar. It started as a blood grudge over our local lists featuring some well-known bakeries over and over that have massive problems with their croissants.
These problems are big enough that anyone with a small amount of pastry knowledge can spot them (tunneling, butter leakage, and broken lamination plague a few of our “best” bakeries). Our lists are the same regurgitated bakeries that are past their prime while places like this are fated to only receive mentions in travel lists.
But part of the point of being a food writer is to write the reviews of the special place. Instead of saying, “If you’re in St. Joseph, you should go here,” our job is to say, “Drive to St. Joseph for this and this alone.
I’ve been criss-crossing the state to make this list with a goal of walking through 150 bakeries. I’ve gone on concha crawls. I’ve been croissant hopping. I’ve been on donut tours. I eat these goodies back to back in my car like a gremlin trying to figure out which one is better and why. I hope to release my list (which looks nothing like any other list that has been published and dedicates a significant amount of space to rural bakeries and where you can get the best X thing like cookies or pie) in December. Flour & Flower was on the list of 150 places to check out, but when the New York Times list came out, I hadn’t been yet.
A few days after that mention in the New York Times, I drove out there and had my first pastry in their parking lot. It was winter. It was frigid. I stood on ice-capped streets wearing pajamas and a hot pink coat with my co-pilot Mr. Rogers in the passenger seat (he’s a dog). I took a bite into a plain croissant (so did he). That’s always how I start at a bakery that has them. Just like pizza, if you want to know if someone can make a good version of something, you gotta start with the basics. It was buttery and rich and the flakes fell to the ice on the ground like little shards. No tunneling, no leakage, perfect lamination.
With a mouth full of croissant I said, “Oh my god.” I went back in for another croissant and a coffee. Maybe it was the sun or the winter chill or the long drive, but I felt moved.
You’ll have to forgive me. Until that moment, I had no idea they were that good.
Over the past four months, I’ve been to Flour & Flower five times.
I’ve eaten over 25 baked goods ranging from bread to pie to croissants to cookies to danishes to scones. I went one day and got (pretty much) one of everything to share with a ragtag crew of seven local bakers and pastry chefs who were down to try them with me and give me their thoughts. (If you’re a local baker or pastry chef and want in on this, DM me! I’d love to have you.)
This piece is the culmination of those efforts. You can find every single pastry I’ve tried at the bottom of this review including what I recommend.
I thought of a lot of ways to write this review. Mostly, I was thinking that I would write this review by having more of a Q&A style review with my friends who came over to taste test, but I found myself coming back to the same events over and over: the experience of driving there on my way to or from Brainerd or Bismarck with my boyfriend in the dead of winter.
We would pack up the car early and make a stop on our way there with a pre-order, which I am imploring you to get up right when they open to do. You will miss out if you do not pre-order.
We would drive up and get in the long line to wait to go into the postage stamp-sized bakery, where people packed in shoulder to shoulder so everyone could be warm. We would stand in their parking lot and eat the baked goods while crumbs fell to the pavement.
It’s a ritual for us now, a tradition, that we made in that parking lot.
Our first time there together, we ate a ham, gruyere, and whole grain mustard croissant so good, it has ruined almost all other ham croissants for me (except Mindy’s in Chicago and Black Walnut’s in Minneapolis). We also ate a lavender and chocolate scone that had the perfect sense of balance and the right amount of crumble. These were both rich pastries that didn’t skimp on butter. I could tell that the butter, flour, eggs, meat, and milk were of good quality.


I couldn’t stop thinking about that ham croissant, lamenting that on our way down on Monday, they would be closed, so I couldn’t get another one.
This is a memory that my boyfriend and I both hold dear, so it’s no surprise that Flour & Flower is rooted in memories.
Answering a question in an email, Lucas said, “The majority of the items I make here are based off of a food memory.” You can feel it. This bakery is deeply personal and so memory-rich that I actually specifically asked Erin to tell me about the memory that sparked her pecan brown sugar shortbread. I could feel that there was a story to it the first time I bit into it. When she told me the story via email, it endeared the bakery to me even more:
I was raised in the baking industry by Solvieg Tofte at Sunstreet Breads - between her & Sarah Botcher [of Black Walnut Bakery], they have taught me a lot of what I know now. Solveig had pecan shortbreads at Sunstreet and baking those in the morning filled the entire bakery with the most beautiful smell of brown sugar & pecans. I can vividly picture myself standing in the kitchen with the sun rising through the windows and that smell in the background. So the brown sugar pecan cookies I sell here are my homage to that memory. My twist is I add a combination of maple & brown sugar because one of my favorite pies is a maple pecan pie.
This is a deeply personal recipe, where Lucas pulls from one of her mentors and makes the recipe her own. It’s an incredibly special cookie.
Upon unwrapping the pecan shortbread and giving it to friends, they normally close their eyes as it hits their tongue. At my pastry party, this was the most beloved singular item. People had different preferences about other pastries. For example, some people loved the muffin-like texture of the blueberry chamomile scone and some people wanted something more scone-like. That’s not a dig on the scone, it’s on preference.
But these were universally beloved, which I think is hard to do in baked goods that are so distinct.
At the end of my party, there were two cookies left and people fought over them. These buttery, nutty, and slightly caramelized tasting cookies are the main thing I bring home for friends. I have a four pack in my freezer for a craving emergency when I can’t get up to the bakery. They are instantly cravable and more like a sable than a shortbread, with tons of butter and no dryness.
I also store the rosemary shortbread in my freezer. A friend at my party said, and you’ll have to excuse my language, “This punches you in the d*ck!” It was a compliment. The flavor of this is strong, perfect for lemon ice cream and mornings with coffee. This cookie could sit on a cheese board like a little round unexpected gift to guests. I have a dream of making little savory ice cream sandwiches with them. If you’re a rosemary hater, this isn’t for you. But if you’re a rosemary lover, it really, really is.
We have pretty good shortbread in the Twin Cities, but these truly stand alone as number one and number two of our best. When you pre-order online (and you must pre-order if you aren’t arriving right away or they might sell out!!!) you are not getting one package of each cookie, but at least two.
Flour & Flower is known by most for their pies, but I think they excel the most at savory pastry.
A dill & radish scone that I had at the party of pastry chefs I hosted was a crowd favorite, with people exclaiming things like, “I don’t normally like dill but I love this,” or, “I got so excited when that dill HIT,” and, “You can actually taste the radish in this.” That last statement might seem like duh if you don’t know pastry, but making something taste like radish is not easy. Lucas told me that this scone was inspired by a similar scone at Sister Pie Bakery in Detroit, again showing how deep in conversation she is not just with farmers, but with other bakers.


A prosciutto-asparagus croissant was so tempting that a person who is normally vegetarian asked for a teeny tiny slice at that party. My best friend laughed during their first bite because it tasted so good. Someone compared it to fancy pigs in a blanket. Another person was obsessed with the cheese skirt. It’s a perfectly crispy and salty and it’s hearty enough to feel like breakfast, not just a pastry.
Both of these were seasonal, produce-forward pastries that made people experience delight. That, to me, is the main point of eating a baked good. If I’m not experiencing joy while eating your croissant, I am out.
In terms of why you drive to Flour & Flower, you can drive for a normal croissant, sure, but you can get a damn good normal croissant locally (the best one is at Black Walnut Bakery). Why it’s worth the drive is the savory pastry program, which is unrivaled locally. Isles Bun has an incredible savory scone (my favorite of all time) but it’s sporadic and you have to know when it’s coming out of the oven to snag one. Modern Times has savory scones that are solid and so does May Day down the road. The ham & cheese croissant at Black Walnut and the savory pastries at Diane’s are also gorgeous.
But none of them are doing savory like Flour & Flower. This program is distinct and seasonal. It’s worth visiting on this program alone which features flavors like beet and tarragon and dill pickle.
Creativity and ingenuity are at the heart of this savory pastry program, meaning it is whimsical, fun, and surprising. You can tell that Lucas sees savory as a place to push herself, to play, and when she does, we all benefit from it.
The thing about Flour & Flower is that at the end of that day with my friends, not one person had the same favorite thing. That means there were many great pastries. One person loved the dill scone. Another loved the savory croissant. Another loved the kimchi bread. Someone adored the lemon poppyseed bun. Someone else loved the pecan shortbread. Someone loved the crust on the pie as their favorite thing, too. Just: the crust.



That means that this is a bakery that goes beyond just good at one thing and transcends to good at many things. That’s rare. Most bakeries, even if they offer lots of things, have clear standouts.
Here, we all agreed to disagree while saying things like, “Everything is great, but this is the best.” And someone else would say, “No, this is the best.”
That means that each of us got to choose what we personally loved, because every pastry was executed well. That’s a special bakery.
The pastries, the cookies? Knockouts. But I love Flour & Flower for the community, too.
When you go, I want you to remember your order number (say it with me, you must pre-order!!!!!) and leave your phone in the car. Open yourself up to talking to people in line. My boyfriend and I always had someone tell us we were a cute couple. Someone, upon seeing a giant box of baked goods and hearing the staff say they’re happy to see me, asked me what to get. My response of, “Everything,” I am sure was not helpful.
On my last visit to Flour & Flower for this piece, a young lesbian couple asked me where I got every single article of clothing I was wearing, sending me to my Etsy where I got the handmade dress and giving them the name of the dressmaker. Someone else offered to help me get everything to my car when I got like 40 pastries. Another person, when I realized I forgot something and came back in, told everyone in line that I was not cutting and offered to let go first because I just needed to go back in to grab something.
Maybe there are moments like that in the Twin Cities, but I stand in enough bakery lines to know it’s fleeting and normally people are looking over your shoulder and praying you don’t take the last of the savory scones at Isles or trying to figure out how to order at a menu-less Marc Heu without saying, “I’ll have that,” while pointing.
Here, community is kind of the point. And when you find a restaurant like that? Babe, it’s worth the drive.
When I do a true write-up, I tell you everything I ate. So… here’s everything I ate. Things in italics are things I don’t recommend, with reasons. You’ll note that’s three items on a rather long list and therefore this is not a mixed review. A hit rate of 25/28 is close to perfect. Things in bold were my favorites.
Pastries: blueberry and chamomile scone, radish and dill scone, ham gruyere & whole grain mustard croissant, lemon poppyseed bun, asparagus prosciutto gruyere croissant, rhubarb ginger croissant, raspberry almond croissant, chocolate croissant, morning bun, croissant, dark chocolate lavender scone, blueberry cream cheese danish, cherry apricot and cream cheese danish, spinach and artichoke croissant, Irish scone with raspberry jam.
Pie: chocolate raspberry (the raw raspberries in this pie were the only thing we universally agreed wasn’t worth getting from my group tasting event, it didn’t feel cohesive), lemon blueberry chess pie (the consistency of this pie is hard to nail and this one had some spots of gloopy filling that wasn’t fully whisked), key lime pie, honey lavender pie, blueberry swamp pie.
Breads: croissant loaf, kimchi sourdough, Bill’s sourdough.
Cookies: pecan shortbread, rosemary shortbread, lemon drop (I’ve gotten these three times and each time I find them dry), pookies, THE cookie.
If you’re looking for a what-to-order guide on your first visit, this is what I recommend as must-gets, with everything else up to you:
1 savory croissant, whatever they have (it rotates)
1 savory scone, whatever they have (it rotates)
1 sweet danish, sweet scone, or piece of pie and you’re going to choose based on what looks like the most creative flavor combination
2x pecan shortbread (put one in your freezer for emergencies!!)
2x rosemary shortbread