Baking Humble Pie
Olivia Spitzer
Key ingredients for a Humble Pie: a background in restaurant work, a “yes!” attitude, and a once-in-a-lifetime global pandemic.
When the quarantine period of 2020 began, Rick Anderson was in the business of selling clothing. He found that his industry changed overnight, as so many did. The demand for printed tees dropped and Anderson had unexpected time on his hands, as so many did. And when someone asked for his help, he showed up – as many did not.
“Transitional projects had a hard time getting volunteers because of the fear,” he explains. Anderson had connections with homeless shelters around Portland, as he often brought his unsold clothing products to donate. These organizations were struggling in a way unique shelters – people needed to isolate, people needed shelter, people needed to be kept healthy, people needed community, and a series of goals that seemed impossible to reconcile. On top of it all, people still needed food. A program director asked Anderson if he would help with cooking for and feeding their population. “They thought it would be a two-week stint, ended up being about six months. Doing a few meals a few times a week, to seven days a week, to two hundred meals a day.”
Anderson couldn’t prep that much food alone. With a dearth of volunteers, he turned to the residents for help. “They were people who had a mental health crisis or addiction. [Working with them,] my ignorance was morphed into something much different.”
And so, out of the wreckage of a global pandemic, a new business began. Anderson explains the origins of the name of his bakery– “We have a very blended crew. Half with challenges in their history, the rest are role models to help them through that. Hence the name, Humble Pie.”
Anderson refers to Humble Pie Baking Company as a “second chance employer” – part training program, part steady job. “I’ve got one young man who is a drug and alcohol counselor who works on the sales side for me. He came out of a homeless drug addicted life himself. One young man on the spectrum who cuts all our pie crust circles. One man who spent forty years in prison, and he had a hard time acclimating to the mainstream world. It’s been a real education for me as well.”
When it comes to bringing on new bakers, Anderson is willing to work with the willing. “I don’t do background checks on people. I don’t care about yesterday; I care about today and tomorrow.” He believes in this philosophy. He also isn’t afraid to acknowledge that this “tomorrow” attitude can lead to friction when put into practice. “Old habits are hard to break. If people are showing signs of abuse, we cut them off right there. It’s a bit of a tough love environment. There are flaws in the recovery program, but if we can help three or four people out of ten…” he shrugs and smiles.
With such a diverse team, Anderson spends much of his day training, mediating, facilitating, and thinking outside the box. “We have a couple of individuals who have become superstars. We have some people who are 20 years sober. We’ve got one young man who did some very hard time who is one of my key players – when I have a hard time with someone he comes and works side by side with them.”
Anderson and his team at Humble Pie relish serving the community through the farmers’ market model of business. “We wanted to reach customers and do face to face, to get feedback on our products. That’s where savory pies were born - we had no intention of doing them. I want people to tell me what they want. There’s nothing we can’t put in a handpie.”
Humble Pie remains dedicated to their mission, even as they grow. July will see the opening of their first brick and mortar bakery, serving the Beaverton community. Anderson is thrilled to have a public facing space, and to offer his employees a new experience and a new set of skills. “[At Humble Pie] we expect people to come together as a team. It’s about nurturing people through the process.”