Before Jim Lahey became known for shaping some of New York’s most iconic loaves, he was a twenty-something living in a garage in Williamsburg – working a string of short-lived jobs and bartering homemade bread for beer.

He wasn’t following a plan, and instead was looking for something that felt real.

“It was chaos in the best way,” he says. “There were warehouse parties and late nights, everyone was broke, and I was just trying to make rent while still doing something creative.”

Baking gave him something to hold onto. It was tactile. expressive, and most of all, shareable. He started baking at home — first for himself, then for friends, and soon for drinks at neighborhood bars. That’s when people started calling him “Jimmy the Baker”.

His first official baking job was at Amy’s Bread. He didn’t have the right résumé, but he brought something better. “I walked in with a loaf of bread I had made at home,” Jim recalls. “Amy tasted it and hired me on the spot.” After a few months, he moved on, freelancing as a baking consultant. One gig led to another, until he landed a temporary position at Joe Allen Restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen — unaware that the owner was quietly looking for someone to help launch a new project. “I just walked in and introduced myself,” Jim says. “We hit it off, and they let me prove myself.”

With encouragement from the team at Joe Allen, Jim borrowed $2,000 and flew to Italy to learn from traditional bakers.

He quickly fell in love — with the food, the rhythm of the work, and the way simple ingredients could be transformed by time, touch, and technique. “It wasn’t just about how to make bread,” he says. “It was about learning to care. You could taste the work.”

Jim returned to New York, and in 1994, signed a lease on Sullivan Street in Soho and opened the bakery that still bears the name. He wasn’t trying to replicate anyone else’s model. Instead, he focused on naturally leavened bread, long fermentation, and Roman-style Pizza Bianca. It was deeply personal, expressive, and unlike anything else in the neighborhood.

“I wasn’t a chef or part of the food world,” Jim says. “But we built out the space and figured out what we wanted to bake. The New York Times announced our opening, and we were in business.”

Sullivan Street Bakery quickly found its audience. Curious chefs stopped by. Locals came back week after week. The bread began showing up on menus across the city, one delivery at a time. “We didn’t have a big plan,” he says. “We were just making good bread and getting it to people who cared.” The bakery’s signature Pizza Bianca became a standout. “It’s still one of my favorite doughs to make,” Jim says. “It’s all about touch and rhythm. You can’t fake it.”

Today, Sullivan Street Bakery has locations in Hell’s Kitchen, Chelsea, and Miami.

It produces thousands of loaves a day for restaurants, stores, and walk-in customers. The offerings have grown to include sandwiches, pastries, and specialty items, but the heart of the bakery hasn’t changed. “We’re not trying to be everything to everyone. We’re trying to make something great and do it well,” Jim says.

After weathering a brutal stretch during the pandemic, Jim and the team are refocusing. That means tightening operations, expanding with intention, and staying rooted in the craft. A new pizzeria is underway in Chelsea and plans are in motion for an organic bread bakery built around a different production model.

“So much of the food world feels like it’s been taken over by sameness”, he says. “I still want this to feel personal. I still want it to feel fun.” That mindset shows up in the details: the timing of a bake, the stretch of the dough, the way a sandwich is handed across the counter.

“That moment when you pull a perfect loaf from the oven?” Jim says. “It still gives me a rush. That’s what keeps me here.”