Mary's Sweet Bread

Baking A Loaf, Making A Living

Mary's Sweet Bread Forged By Tradition, Necessity And A Great Recipe

Raised in a traditional Portuguese family, Mary Soares' life revolved around what was happening inside the four walls of her parents' home. And when she married at age 16, that tradition continued with her husband. By 21, Soares had given birth to three children, and it was then that her mother decided it was time to pass on a different family practice: making sweet bread. Two more children, minus one husband and three decades later, Soares is the owner of Mary's Portuguese Sweet Bread, a business run out of the first floor of her Mark Street home. For her, making bread was a life-saver. “The way I grew up, I didn't go to movies, go on dates or go to dances. When my ex-husband told my dad that he wanted to date me, my father said he'd have to marry me. So he did,” says Soares. “I was taught to be a good wife and mother and do as I was told. My husband didn't let me work outside the home, so I did this. “I took care of everyone but me,” she added. Soares is still taking care of others, but is using her bread as a way to honor her mother's memory and to provide herself with a steady income. After her divorce nearly eight years ago, the Pawcatuck resident cut back on her baking and took on a full time job at a local casino. But she continued to share her bread with friends who came over for coffee, and word spread in the community. Soon she was providing loaves to stores in Pawcatuck, Westerly and Mystic. Around that time, she remodeled her home to make the first floor a licensed commercial bakery. Her biggest triumph came recently, when Soares secured a deal with Shop Rite to provide her sweet bread to a handful of the region's grocery stores, including one in New London and another in Norwich. On a recent visit to her Mark Street home/bakery, Soares was pulling loaf after loaf from the oven in preparation for her trip to Shop Rite. In less than two days, she prepared and baked more than 240 loaves. “I feel like I'm at a point in my life where I can finally live,” says Soares. “If I succeed, I'll take the credit. If I fail, I'll take the blame. I want people to know the bread lady.” But getting to know the bread lady might not be so easy. Soares is an insomniac, who will often rise at 2 a.m. just to throw “a batch or two” in the oven. She loves all things Elvis. And she is still learning how to use the navigational system in her SUV (she had to ask someone how to get across the Gold Star Memorial Bridge). She doesn't sit still for long, so her red-brown hair is often flying off her shoulders. Despite a secluded home-life, Soares says she wouldn't change a thing. “If things didn't happen the way they did, I would still be that meek, shy person with no self esteem,” she said, not one negotiating contracts and selling her breads to chain stores. And part of her past is paying tribute to her mother. Soares has three cable-knit quilts that she uses to cover her breads. Her mother used two of them when she did her own baking. “This is her bread. This is her story,” said Soares. “What I know and what I do is because of my mother.”