Hi there! I'm so glad you're here. My name is Pamela, and I'm the baker behind Mòso. Mòso means "a piece" or "a bite" in Haitian Creole. To me, it's a little piece of home, shared one bite at a time. If I'm being honest... I didn't exactly set out to start a bakery. I am a Doctor of Physical Therapy working full-time at a hospital and I only wanted to cook for scratch as much as possible for the health of my family. In 2025, around this time, I got bit by the sourdough bug. After a few failed attempts, a few months of completely giving up, and a friend gently nudging me to pick it back up again, I finally baked my first loaf. Then, I couldn't stop. Around the same time, my daughter, like any 4-year-olds, decided that bread was going to be her only form of food... morning, noon, and night. If she was going to eat that much bread, I wanted it to be the best bread I could make for her. That's when I stumbled into the world of fresh-milled flour.

Wait... you mean I can make my own flour?! That one discovery completely consumed me.

Within a couple of months, I was milling grain, baking multiple times a week, and making far more bread than my little family could ever eat. My parents, my sister's family, my in-laws... no one was safe from the constant delivery of fresh loaves and rolls. Somewhere along the way, everyone started calling me "la boulangère"—"the baker lady." I laughed... ...but maybe they saw it before I did. The more I baked, the more I realized this wasn't just another hobby. It became the thing I looked forward to after a long week at work in the hospital. My husband even jumped in and bought us a pizza oven, and suddenly our Friday night pizzas became homemade, fresh-milled, and topped with the best ingredients we could find... to my honest relief. Looking back now, Mòso didn't appear overnight. It grew quietly, almost like a new moon. At first, it was barely noticeable. Then little by little, it became brighter and brighter until, one day, like a full moon lighting up the night sky, it was impossible to ignore as it lit a path I hadn't realized I was already walking. This is what I was meant to build. Baking has given me a creative outlet I didn't know I was missing. It has allowed me to pour love into my family, reconnect with my Haitian roots, and now, I hope, into my community too. If you decide to follow along, you'll get to see all of it—the beautiful loaves, the flour-covered counters, the recipes that work, the ones that definitely don't, and the story of building Mòso from the ground up. Thank you for being here from the very beginning. I hope every loaf that leaves my kitchen feels like a little piece of home. Welcome to Mòso.