WHEN THE LODGE FREEWAY was constructed straight through Detroit’s bustling Chinatown, many businesses shuttered and Asian American communities dispersed throughout Detroit’s suburbs. As those communities regrouped, a few bakeries gradually opened in places like Madison Heights in the ’90s and early 2000s. Now, a new generation of bakers—some of whom were inspired by those earlier bakeries, like QQ Bakery—are producing artisanal bibingka, chapssal, daan tats and more to serve the Asian community and beyond.

In the past couple of years, several Asian American pastry chefs have opened up bakeries in Southeast Michigan, sparking a renaissance of Asian American businesses that proudly highlight the owners’ respective cultures. But for many of them, running an Asian American bakery has been a tough road filled with many unique challenges.

One of the earliest challenges for some owners of local Asian American bakeries is developing the recipes. There are few opportunities to study Asian American pastry at the institutional level; while a few cooking schools may offer a class or two, there is no school in the U.S. dedicated to Asian pastry.

Many Asian American chefs—like Maggie Ho, the owner of Faai Lok Bakery, a pop-up cottage business in Canton, and Rachel Liu Martindale, owner of Q Bakehouse & Market in Ann Arbor—turned to cookbooks and YouTube to fill the gaps. “Most of the recipes I read are in English, by Asian American authors,” says Liu Martindale.

She adds she read that in Asia it’s common for stoves not to have ovens, so “most people just don’t bake at home,” opting instead to go to their local bakery, making it harder for these recipes to be passed down. This limitation is also partly why so many traditional Asian desserts rely on steaming or boiling rather than baking.

Other chefs, like Jonathan Peregrino, learned directly from bakeries in Asia. Before opening his bakery, he traveled to the Philippines to take classes at a French pastry school while learning how to make traditional Filipino treats from bakeries in the area and from his family. That combined training has greatly informed the original pastries he sells at JP Makes and Bakes in Detroit’s New Center neighborhood, like croissants filled with yellow mung bean paste.

Louis Kim, the primary pastry chef and recipe developer at Ondo Bakery in Ann Arbor, was able to learn the fundamentals from a young age at a pastry school in Korea, where he was born and began his 25-year-pastry career.

Another challenge Asian American bakeries face is the cost of imported Asian ingredients. Along with the tariff increases implemented earlier in 2025 by the Trump administration, which hiked up prices at grocery stores and restaurants, the cost of ingredients in general has skyrocketed while the perceived value of baked goods has remained relatively stagnant. The profit margins are extremely thin; the pastries and sweet treats are time- and labor-intensive and price increases can be a hard sell to customers. “The big thing I was not expecting was how expensive ingredients are, even in bulk,” Liu Martindale says. “We had the same supplier since we opened, and something that’s so crazy is that the price of items has doubled in cost. We haven’t even been open two years.”

The contemporary Asian American bakery also has many customers and expectations to satisfy. Though they may serve the nostalgic goods that some Asian Americans are looking for, as well as a public that has become more open to Asian flavors than ever before, there are still many customers who are less familiar with the textures and flavors of Asian cuisine. Unlike a bagel shop or a cake shop, which are instantly recognizable to the average American customer, Asian American bakers are often doing the dual job of producing foods and educating the public about their goods and their culture.

This work can be even more difficult if there is a language barrier between the chefs and their customers. Kim notes that “the biggest challenge has been not being able to communicate in English.” All of this—on top of facing competition from big franchises like Tous Les Jours and fighting anti-Asian prejudice, especially during the height of the pandemic—makes running a bakery a difficult enterprise.

Ultimately, community has been the greatest path for survival. Ho works for Q part-time, and what she learned from Liu Martindale about how to run an Asian pastry business helped give her the expertise to open Faai Lok.

Peregrino also finds that Metro Detroit’s baking scene is tight-knit. The community that he has created through JP Makes and Bakes has not only been vital for his bakery’s continued success but has also given his customers a taste of home. 

“Though representation [of Filipino culture] was never my intention, the food resonates with people and reminds them of home, which is still very meaningful. Two folks in particular came up to me to say that the bicho-bicho doughnuts reminded them of what their mom and grandma made for them,” he says.

Ho also expresses delight in hearing from customers that her pastries have reminded them of home, and she is proud that this bakery has allowed her to highlight her Cantonese culture. “Faai Lok means ‘happiness’—something that I hope others feel: my joy and happiness when making food for others. Lok is also my middle name. It was important for me to reclaim that part of myself. This is me; that’s why I wanted [the name] to be in Cantonese.”

As for Ondo, because of the community the bakery has fostered, Kim is not worried about competition from big franchises. A franchise may have the consistency and prices some customers desire, but Ondo’s regulars remain loyal because it’s become a third space for many students. These small bakeries have also united several generations of Asian Americans who trust them to honor the traditions of those who came before.

Just important as honoring traditional recipes, though, are the innovations that have made these bakeries stand out. Q’s most popular item, a chili crisp scone, was the result of an experiment that Liu Martindale considers her “crowning achievement.” She also regularly serves a twist on the traditional Chinese New Year pastry nian gao, a sweet rice cake, by baking them in mini Bundt pans to achieve a crispy texture that contrasts with the cake’s chewiness or “Q” factor.

Ondo Bakery’s menu is full of unique fusions of French and Korean pastry techniques; their injeolmi “crochi” is a croissant filled with mochi and dusted with soybean powder. Kim’s been pleasantly surprised by the success of the Korean elements of their pastries, which will remain a significant part of the menu going forward. He has tremendous artistic freedom, something he likely wouldn’t have at a big franchise. Innovation thrives in small bakeries precisely because owners are empowered to carry out their bold ideas and trust their staff ’s ideas.

One way the bakeries stand out is by prioritizing high-quality ingredients and making their signature treats and pastries from scratch. Kim said Asian American bakeries will grow in popularity as the public continues to desire health-conscious treats that are less sweet and made from quality ingredients like matcha and red beans. Ondo makes everything in-house with the highest-quality ingredients, even down to the butter. Ho hopes that future bakeries will offer an even greater variety of goods and represent parts of Asia that have less of a spotlight in the culinary world.

Though Metro Detroit is not typically known for Asian American pastry, these chefs are working to change that while blazing a trail for others to follow.

Shannon Daniels is a writer, visual artist and home chef residing in Ann Arbor. You can find her writing and recipes at The Los Angeles Review of Books, Taste of Home, and elsewhere.

(With gratitude for language interpretation provided by Kyunghee Kim)