乐播传媒

Susan Reid鈥檚 cozy nook at King Arthur Flour in Norwich, Vt., sits outside a baker鈥檚 dream 鈥� a kitchen where the ovens are always warm and recipes are remade until they鈥檙e right. On this day, it鈥檚 raspberry mousse dome cake.

The recipe will accompany a pan featured in The Baker鈥檚 Catalogue, King Arthur鈥檚 mail order business (circulation: six million). Soon the cakes will be free for the tasting. It鈥檚 enough to make one giddy.

Or stoic. 鈥淭ry dealing with five pans of warm brownies a day!鈥� says Reid. 鈥淵ou have to taste and evaluate each. My rule: I take one bite. If I take another, I spit it out.鈥�

Culinary tough love aside, Reid truly relishes her job. Since arriving at the company in 2002, she has become one of King Arthur鈥檚 prominent cookbook writers, editor of its bimonthly newsletter, The Baking Sheet, and instructor at its on-site Baking Education Center and in popular national classes. Among her responsibilities, 鈥渢he thing I love best is that I get the idea of a food in my head and I can write a recipe to get there.鈥�

Reid didn鈥檛 latch onto a career in food early, though she loved helping her parents and five siblings prepare monthly dinner parties. An 鈥渋ntellectual omnivore鈥� in high school, Reid clashed with her dad when he encouraged her toward medicine or law. She won the argument for liberal arts, leaving Kinnelon, N.J., for 乐播传媒 in 1975.
Her memories of 乐播传媒, where she majored in English and spent her junior year at Scotland鈥檚 University of Aberdeen, naturally include food. 鈥淭he salad bar 鈥� a work of genius!鈥� she says. 鈥淚f nothing else looked good, that did. The coffee was abysmal. A chem major once put salt in to balance the pH.鈥�

Postgraduation, Reid landed an entry-level job at Leo Burnett in Chicago, then the world鈥檚 fifth-largest advertising agency. (Ever heard of the Pillsbury Doughboy?) She soon recognized her potential. 鈥淭hese guys were running up and down the halls making $100,000 鈥� and I鈥檓 typing scripts. I said, 鈥業 can do this!鈥欌��

As an ad executive, Reid refined her writing skills and learned to set up photo shoots and produce commercials (now handy for cookbook design and television appearances for King Arthur). 鈥淚 loved the interdisciplinary aspect, but I felt like a professional liar. You鈥檙e supposed to be creative, but all for the sake of adding 30 percent to [a product鈥檚] value.鈥�

After nearly 10 years, Reid listened to her gut. A cookbook connoisseur and gourmand, she applied to the Culinary Institute of America. After graduating in 1990, an exciting 鈥� and punishing 鈥� decade followed. She would work for Lydia Shire, still one of the biggest names in the Boston restaurant scene, at Biba and at the Westin Copley Place. At high end restaurants, such as Chicago鈥檚 now-defunct Avanzare, Reid worked 80-hour weeks and tore her left rotator cuff.

Fond of Vermont, Reid applied to be a chef instructor at the New England Culinary Institute, based in Montpelier, and lucked out. She taught the basics 鈥� cooking theory, knife skills 鈥� and lectured dreamy-eyed, celebrity-chef wannabes. 鈥淚 had a student quit because he didn鈥檛 want to be on his feet eight hours a day,鈥� she says. 鈥淗e thought it would be more like a cooking show. I told him, 鈥榊ou don鈥檛 do something because you want to be famous 鈥� you become famous because what you鈥檙e doing springs from inside.鈥欌��

To fulfill a NECI contract in summer 2001, Reid took a position as executive chef at The Asticou Inn in Northeast Harbor, Maine. While creating the nightly menus was fun, not much else was. Her dad鈥檚 health was failing, the other rotator cuff tore, and a cousin died in the World Trade Center on Sept. 11. Reid says she 鈥渉it bottom and decided it was time for a change.鈥�

Missing writing, she wondered, 鈥淲ho in Vermont does words and food?鈥� Off went an e-mail to King Arthur: 鈥淵ou got any use for a chef that writes?鈥� A reply arrived 20 minutes later.

Little did Reid know that King Arthur had just signed the contract for The Baker鈥檚 Companion, a 640-page tome featuring everything from rye crackers to gingerbread pancakes. She was hired to test recipes and contribute to the book, which later won a James Beard Foundation award. P.J. Hamel, editor of The Baker鈥檚 Catalogue and cookbook co-author, says Reid鈥檚 a natural.

鈥淪he鈥檚 got a top-notch background in cooking and food science and a fresh, imaginative outlook on recipe development. She never holds back from tackling any project.鈥�

Case in point: Whole Grain Baking, due out now. The cookbook includes 400-plus recipes replacing white flour with healthier whole grain flours. It鈥檚 uncharted territory 鈥� attempting to debunk the decades-old notion that whole-grain baking equals cinderblock production 鈥� but Reid has high hopes. 鈥淎 lot of people wouldn鈥檛 touch this, but we鈥檙e pioneers.鈥�

That鈥檚 the King Arthur way. Founded in Boston in 1790 as the Sands, Taylor & Wood Co., the business moved to Vermont in 1986. Today, it鈥檚 a 50-state brand grossing $45 million annually with a reputation for superior quality. (In fact, the flour was named 鈥淜ing Arthur鈥� in 1896 to suggest purity in an age 鈥渨hen everything from chalk to bone was added to flour to whiten it,鈥� says Reid.) The Baker鈥檚 Catalogue, with its yogurt makers and scone mixes, has a warehouse the size of a small airport hangar to prove it. An on-site retail store, built in the round, is the Catalogue come to life.

Most pioneering of all, the company is 100 percent employee-owned. From cookbook writers to call-center employees, the personal investment shows, says Reid. 鈥淧eople here are grown-ups. They get their job done, no matter what. But it鈥檚 also flexible 鈥� if your kid has a softball game, you go.鈥�

All that and warm brownies, too. No wonder employees refer to the place as 鈥淐amelot.鈥�

Larissa Vigue Picard 鈥�92 is program director for community reading and discussion at the Vermont Humanities Council. She lives in Woodbury, Vt.