Published by SEVENSTORE
Author: Millie Throp
Springtime in New York brings with it an ethereal joy; grit newly filtered by sunlight, like milk sweetened by honey. And for pastry artist Paige Nickless, the season is when fresh ingredients prosper, and daylight sweeps over the “banana chiffons” and “salty tahini meringues” atop her marble counters. Framed by Instagram’s thin white borders, her fresh bakes are where learned perfectionism flourishes, and immaculate offerings are cupped by floral chinaware. Whilst the 7K audience of her Instagram alias, @fremecraiche, admit they might never indulge in a delicacy piped in Paige’s makerspace, they find her visual resume fulfilling: a feast for the eyes.
Originally, the 33-year-old’s appetite for baking grew from a craving to a hunger at the turn of adolescence, helped by high-school art classes and the teachings of a Betty Crocker cookbook. But as further qualifications in culinary field came into the fold, her hands-on process found its verve. With her against-the-grain finesse stemming from 12 years in professional kitchens, her present, self-sufficient method hones its unique-selling-points. Ensuing creative freedom at each stage of ideation, execution, and display, Paige favours her domestic, “creative cocoon” to any Michelin star.
Transforming the classics of well-known desserts, her ruminations turn key lime pies to pavlovas, where trialling new tastes from a place of familiarity is a home-comfort in a tough industry. And as waking hours in her bakehouse are spent in aprons and solitude, spring offers an excuse for recreation, joining fans at the table to lick the spoon of her efforts.
Trading recipes across continents, SEVENSTORE caught up with Paige to mill over her fruitful yet testing trajectory, dialled in from a Friday morning in Red Hook, Brooklyn. Speaking on her travels to India and favourite food neighbourhoods, she mentions the love of limitless making after years in a male-dominated industry, “wiping [her] hands with baking” a few years back, before, of course, “it found [her] again”.
MT: Today, you are an established, freelance pastry artist, but what was your journey into baking like? Have you always had a sweet tooth?
PN: I was always akin to art and liked art class in high school. I started baking because it seemed like an accessible art form, but I didn’t consider it that when I was a kid. I was a cheerleader, so I would bake for bake sales, or for friends. It was a hobby, but as I pursued other careers and higher education, I didn’t connect with anything. I felt lost and without purpose. It’s a very human thing.
I started working in a bakery as a sales associate and being in that environment made me want to pursue it. I coincidentally landed a job working as an in-house baker for a production company. That opportunity opened a space for me to explore my interests. It was a no limits thing – I could do whatever I wanted. There were no repercussions, it was just ‘express yourself through your pastry’. I was only 20, and I stayed there for a couple of years.
Then, I pursued culinary education, which was a waste of time. The programme wasn’t super progressive. And after that, I left my job and thought the path I needed to be on was as a pastry cook, and to work my way up to a chef. I worked in bakeries in San Francisco, then spent a year travelling and working for free in Europe: I wandered a lot.
With getting older, I didn’t see the growth I’d wanted. I’d been offered this promotion as a sous chef and then COVID happened. I wasn’t hired back. The opportunities that existed after weren’t very interesting. The structure of restaurants is that you start from the bottom, so, I just didn’t feel that after 12 years I wanted to do that again.
I pursued other things and took time away from baking. But it’s definitely been my calling. I love to work with my hands, share with people and have dialogue around food. I think the culinary arts are profound because there’s a million ways to do things. So, it’s important to talk about things, not gatekeep. It’s a fun way to communicate. So, it’s not about the sweet tooth. I love my desserts, but it’s just always been my outlet.
MT: What is usually your first point of inspiration when creating a dish, whether this is your take on a classic, or something original? Would you say that presentation is as important as taste in this, considering your presence on social media and background in fashion marketing?
PN: Off the bat, culture inspires me. I found people’s differences, foods, and aesthetics intriguing, [so] I began travelling at a young age. My first trip was to India with my sister. I’d never eaten Indian food, but I just knew it had deep rooted culture. I only went for a week but I came away feeling fuelled. I took so much away from that trip. Putting myself in a zone of discomfort challenges me and that’s where my inspiration builds.
Using new ingredients also inspires me. Living in New York, we have so many places to grab a small amount of one ingredient. Usually, having to seek that out takes you to a place where you can find other mediums. It’s a cyclical process.
Something that also inspires me is putting a twist on something. An éclair has a classic shape; glaze; filling, but if you change one of those, it’s still an éclair, but it’s different. It’s like architecture, where if you shift something, is it still going to hold its structure? Mostly, I believe yes. So, it’s pushing people out of their comfort zone. It’s like casting a rod.
I know that aesthetic matters and I loathe that, but I’m not feeding anybody; I’m just showing them pictures. It’s about trusting that what I make tastes good, but the thing with social media is to never believe what you see. I try to explain in my captions that it's not just a coconut crémeux, it's toasted; salted. It creates this flavour profile in your mouth. Some of the most regarded chefs create beautiful things and miss on the flavour. So, I create things that are aesthetically pleasing, but I try not to forgo flavour.
MT: For many creatives, perfectionism is both a blessing and a curse. Would you say this is something you have experienced? How is your mental health impacted by your time spent in the kitchen, maybe through its benefits, but also its drawbacks?
PN: I have always struggled with my mental health. Baking became a way for me to share with people, which was helpful in feeling purpose in my life. But also, from an early age I struggled with body image, as many people do. I think that social media is one of the largest contributors of false expectations.
It expanded into work, money, everything. I think being a chef is really competitive, especially because there are not as many pastry positions as there are savoury. But proving yourself and striving to be the best can also be unrealistic. It takes so much to create content between conceptualizing, producing, shooting, and posting. If one thing goes wrong, it feels like the world collapses.
Even though I've been dealing with this issue for 20 years, I sometimes appreciate that I hold myself to high standards; it’s motivating. It's funny because it's all within myself, but I know many people struggle with the same problem. I hate to admit that somebody else's life on social media could trap me in this unreachable path to perfectionism.
On the reverse, I go into these projects like ‘okay, let's try something new’. Sometimes, the thing doesn't work, but there are days when it pays off. And even on those bad days, I try again. I feel proud to grow in a direction where failures are lessons. Something I always remind myself is that I was curious enough to try, so, there's no reason to allow myself to get lost from a failure.
MT: With your career spanning over a decade, what are some moments you have been most proud of? Have there been any challenges along the way as a female in the food industry?
PN: It’s a tale as old as time: being a female in a male dominated industry. Women can't be emotional in kitchens: we can't cry, or laugh, or exist without it being labelled. It's certainly an issue. I have external factors that affect my personal life, so I don't just shut off. It frustrated me to be called aggressive because I do my work well. I don't need to socialise to get my job done. It's like the kitchen is a place where women belong but they can't be the leaders.
I think the essence of the industry is having these tangible accolades: working at the best restaurants; promotions; Michelin stars. It's like resume building, you know? Maybe it hurt my growth, but one of the things I'm proud of is doing exactly what I wanted. I had fine-tuned boundaries. Now, I finally get to create on my own. I'm not making money, but I'm getting to produce in a way that I want to. I’m cultivating a space that is limitless, boundless, and full – like a creative cocoon.
MT: How does the solitary act of baking compare to the togetherness of sharing your creations? Is there a joy you find in sharing your baking with friends and family, as someone who may not always see the results of your hard work?
PN: It's nice to see people's faces. There's a part of sharing food with people that I miss when creating at home. It’s just me and my boyfriend who live in this apartment, and he has very distinct facial expressions. I know when something's really good and when something's good. It's a scale. It feels satisfying to get feedback before people speak. There's this time in between the bite, the processing of the flavour, and the thinking.
MT: With Easter then considered a time of togetherness, particularly involving edible treats, will you be celebrating the holiday, and if so, how?
PN: I love this seasonal transition; New York can be so abrasive. If it's raining, people are like ‘let me get from point A to point B’. But when the weather starts to change, you feel this energy where people breathe easier. There’s a buzzy, infectious energy.
Holiday food recipes are the recipes that our grandparents ate. It's not even so much about upkeeping tradition; these recipes are old, but let's make them cute. When I was a kid, my family baked from this Betty Crocker cookbook, and I still have it. It's my prized possession. I like taking these old school desserts and upping the ante. Keeping the flavours the same, but changing the form, innovating a dessert without taking its fundamentals away.
MT: Finally, what is New York's culinary landscape like, particularly within dessert culture? What are some of your favourite pastimes or locations in the city?
PN: New York is an outdoor city. To be outside is something that excites people because we live in tiny boxes. I'm an ice cream girl, so I'll check out a new spot if I'm interested. There’s a lot of Japanese, Korean and Taiwanese bakeries that are now doing it as well. You get these exotic flavours – they’re not just doing chocolate and vanilla.
There's this resurgence in bakery culture going on too. All of these small businesses started out of people's apartments. Chefs are turning towards bakeries because they allow more of a work-life-balance.
A lot of bakeries are doing stuff like taking your traditional croissant and flavouring it with something from the Middle East. A place called Librae make beautiful stuff.
I try to find smaller restaurants; they have a sort of New York culture to them. Me and my boyfriend love to go to Queens. There's Jackson Heights which has tons of cuisines. Then, if you go to Flushing, there's Chinese food. And about a 20-minute walk further, Murray Hill is a Korean food neighbourhood.
At the same time, we love our dive bars. We'll get a salad and a burger, chat with the bartender, or sit in our little corner. I read an article recently that said although the restaurant industry is booming, New Yorkers are less likely to try new places. We'd rather go somewhere we've been to 100 times and get a guaranteed good meal.