Ruby on the Hill
About This Baker
Description
At Ruby on the Hill, we make real-deal sourdough with just three honest ingredients—flour, water, and salt. That’s it. No shortcuts, no funny business. We’re big fans of slow fermentation, wild yeast, and doing things the old-fashioned way (because good bread refuses to be rushed). Using organic, raw, or non-GMO ingredients only, we turn time and patience into delightfully rustic loaves with a chewy crumb, a crackly golden crust, and flavor so deep it can only come from our very own well-loved wild sourdough mother.
Every loaf is hand shaped, not machine made, by a skilled baker who puts equal parts muscle and heart into the work. Traditional techniques meet a modern village-bakery vibe, resulting in classic sourdough, rotating seasonal loaves, and one-of-a-kind treats you didn’t know you needed—but absolutely do.
Our bread is made to be eaten, shared, torn into while standing at the counter, and enjoyed without overthinking. It’s good for your gut, good for your soul, and proudly baked for our community—one small batch at a time.
Eat more real bread. Hug your baker.
Our Story/Bio
Let’s bake, build, grow, and laugh together. If you’re looking for instagram perfection, keep scrolling. You won’t find that here. Mistakes will be made (oh, plenty), but that’s part of the fun. I find perfection over-rated and I’m keepin’ it real. If a loaf turns into a brick or a garden experiment goes sideways, we’ll just call it ‘character building’ and move on. After all, life’s too short to take ourselves too seriously—especially when there’s bread to be eaten! They call me Honey Dear (or Tina if you want to be formal about it). Welcome to Ruby on the Hill!
A Journey Back to Homemade
(Because, Why Not?)
Once upon a time, people actually made their own food—like, from scratch. Shocking, right? Condiments, meals, bread, desserts—all homemade. I know chefs are rolling their eyes, but for those of us raised on TV dinners and neon orange mac and cheese, these skills didn’t come pre-installed. They definitely didn’t for me!
I am not a professionally trained baker. I am a self-taught home cook. Just ask my mom about the time I attempted to cook potatoes (I was nine, cut me some slack). Or my husband, who has witnessed more than a few sacrificed pots! Or my kids, who have endured many a Thanksgiving sans rolls. The struggle? Oh, it’s real.
From SoCal Sunshine to Maine Snowstorms
I grew up in Southern California, where “cold” meant putting on a hoodie. Now, I live in a rural town in Maine, on a two-acre homestead, where snow happens (a lot). I’m a newbie gardener, a rookie chicken wrangler, a total amateur at food preservation. And yes, there are goats involved. Because what’s a homestead without a few mischievous escape artists keeping things interesting? If they’re not climbing on things they shouldn’t, they’re plotting their next great escape. You’re not having fun unless you’ve chased a goat down the driveway in your pajamas. I’ve dabbled in woodworking, organize an Azure Standard food co-op drop from my house, and absolutely love throwing dinner parties with my husband. Oh, and in my other life? I’ve been an architectural illustrator for over 30 years—working remotely before it was cool.
We’ve been remodeling our home ourselves—yes, we even built our own kitchen cabinets! (They’re still standing, so I consider that a win.)
Meet the Baker–The Accidental Foodie
This is not the story I expected to tell, but here we are. I’ve made some epically bad food choices in my life (cue the health issues). Sugar, processed food, fast food—I was addicted to it all. At some point (probably after a health scare, like most people), I realized something had to change. But instead of doing anything drastic, I focused on small, sustainable shifts that actually stuck.
Enter: sourdough bread. Wild yeast. Fermented foods.
I come from a long line of bakers, but until 2022, I had never baked a loaf of bread in my life. I just knew I loved bread (like, a lot) and wanted a healthier option. Hundreds of failed loaves later, I finally got the hang of it. Now, I bake and share my bread with so many of you who have become more than just customers.
A Sourdough Bakery? Me? Really?!
I never imagined building a sourdough bakery, but here we are. Turns out, this dream runs in the family. My grandmother, Ida Mathilda Wilhelmina (Werdmuller von Elgg) Chompff, had a bakery called “Bush Bush” in New Guinea after WWII. My grandfather built it for her—literally—from salvaged military equipment he found in the jungle. (Talk about resourceful!) When they later fled the country, they started another bakery when they got to the Netherlands.
I could talk about her forever. She was one of a kind. My sourdough starter, Mathilda, is named after her, continuing the legacy of baking that’s now found its way to me.
So, here’s to humble beginnings! I’ve already snagged a hand-washing sink, a three bay sink, two ovens, a mixer, cabinet proofer and 2 large coolers. Mostly used equipment off Marketplace or some other used equipment outlet (big moves, people!) in preparation for building my bakery which I hope will be finished summer of 2025. This is happening, and I’m so excited you’re here for it.
How It All Began
In 2018, my Mom moved to Maine. In 2020, like the rest of us, she found herself stuck at home and going stir-crazy. What did she do? She started baking (more). I turned an old, non-working refrigerator into a farm stand at the end of our driveway, and we called it Ruby’s Coops & Ovens (I know, I still owe you that name explanation). She baked incredible bread, cookies, muffins, and pies, while I sold eggs. It was the perfect distraction in a chaotic time.
Mom was born in New Guinea, fled to the Netherlands, and eventually came to the U.S. She’s been a hairdresser, real estate agent, and business owner. And even in her late 70s, she can work circles around anyone. She started baking later in life, just like her mother—and now me. It’s in the genes, folks. And I hope to pass it down to the next generation.
Today, my Mom has returned west to St. George, Utah, where she continues doing what she loves—baking. And here I am, carrying on the tradition, one loaf at a time.
So, welcome to my adventure! It’s going to be a wild (and delicious) ride!
Oh, and Ruby was our cat. A story for another time.
A Journey Back to Homemade
(Because, Why Not?)
Once upon a time, people actually made their own food—like, from scratch. Shocking, right? Condiments, meals, bread, desserts—all homemade. I know chefs are rolling their eyes, but for those of us raised on TV dinners and neon orange mac and cheese, these skills didn’t come pre-installed. They definitely didn’t for me!
I am not a professionally trained baker. I am a self-taught home cook. Just ask my mom about the time I attempted to cook potatoes (I was nine, cut me some slack). Or my husband, who has witnessed more than a few sacrificed pots! Or my kids, who have endured many a Thanksgiving sans rolls. The struggle? Oh, it’s real.
From SoCal Sunshine to Maine Snowstorms
I grew up in Southern California, where “cold” meant putting on a hoodie. Now, I live in a rural town in Maine, on a two-acre homestead, where snow happens (a lot). I’m a newbie gardener, a rookie chicken wrangler, a total amateur at food preservation. And yes, there are goats involved. Because what’s a homestead without a few mischievous escape artists keeping things interesting? If they’re not climbing on things they shouldn’t, they’re plotting their next great escape. You’re not having fun unless you’ve chased a goat down the driveway in your pajamas. I’ve dabbled in woodworking, organize an Azure Standard food co-op drop from my house, and absolutely love throwing dinner parties with my husband. Oh, and in my other life? I’ve been an architectural illustrator for over 30 years—working remotely before it was cool.
We’ve been remodeling our home ourselves—yes, we even built our own kitchen cabinets! (They’re still standing, so I consider that a win.)
Meet the Baker–The Accidental Foodie
This is not the story I expected to tell, but here we are. I’ve made some epically bad food choices in my life (cue the health issues). Sugar, processed food, fast food—I was addicted to it all. At some point (probably after a health scare, like most people), I realized something had to change. But instead of doing anything drastic, I focused on small, sustainable shifts that actually stuck.
Enter: sourdough bread. Wild yeast. Fermented foods.
I come from a long line of bakers, but until 2022, I had never baked a loaf of bread in my life. I just knew I loved bread (like, a lot) and wanted a healthier option. Hundreds of failed loaves later, I finally got the hang of it. Now, I bake and share my bread with so many of you who have become more than just customers.
A Sourdough Bakery? Me? Really?!
I never imagined building a sourdough bakery, but here we are. Turns out, this dream runs in the family. My grandmother, Ida Mathilda Wilhelmina (Werdmuller von Elgg) Chompff, had a bakery called “Bush Bush” in New Guinea after WWII. My grandfather built it for her—literally—from salvaged military equipment he found in the jungle. (Talk about resourceful!) When they later fled the country, they started another bakery when they got to the Netherlands.
I could talk about her forever. She was one of a kind. My sourdough starter, Mathilda, is named after her, continuing the legacy of baking that’s now found its way to me.
So, here’s to humble beginnings! I’ve already snagged a hand-washing sink, a three bay sink, two ovens, a mixer, cabinet proofer and 2 large coolers. Mostly used equipment off Marketplace or some other used equipment outlet (big moves, people!) in preparation for building my bakery which I hope will be finished summer of 2025. This is happening, and I’m so excited you’re here for it.
How It All Began
In 2018, my Mom moved to Maine. In 2020, like the rest of us, she found herself stuck at home and going stir-crazy. What did she do? She started baking (more). I turned an old, non-working refrigerator into a farm stand at the end of our driveway, and we called it Ruby’s Coops & Ovens (I know, I still owe you that name explanation). She baked incredible bread, cookies, muffins, and pies, while I sold eggs. It was the perfect distraction in a chaotic time.
Mom was born in New Guinea, fled to the Netherlands, and eventually came to the U.S. She’s been a hairdresser, real estate agent, and business owner. And even in her late 70s, she can work circles around anyone. She started baking later in life, just like her mother—and now me. It’s in the genes, folks. And I hope to pass it down to the next generation.
Today, my Mom has returned west to St. George, Utah, where she continues doing what she loves—baking. And here I am, carrying on the tradition, one loaf at a time.
So, welcome to my adventure! It’s going to be a wild (and delicious) ride!
Oh, and Ruby was our cat. A story for another time.
Location
Location
294, Merrill Hill Road, Hebron, Oxford County, Maine, 04238, United States
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Review
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