BY MELANIE LINO | PHOTOS BY ROBERTO QUEZADA-DARDÓN
I AM A FIRST-GENERATION DOMINICAN AMERICAN woman who was raised in a financially insecure household. This fact has shaped so much of who I am. I was born in America but I wasn’t perceived as entirely “American” or “of class,” based on my appearance. At the same time, I also didn’t always fit in with people in the Dominican Republic (DR), either.
My mother was a single parent who had my welita’s (grandma’s) support. In the 1980s, they migrated to the States, seeking opportunity—although the opportunities weren’t easy to come by here, either. Upon arriving in Allentown, my mother worked several low-paying jobs at the same time to afford our basic necessities: food, shelter, utilities, and summer trips to visit family in DR. My adolescent journey was relatively rough. I spent most of it trying to navigate two worlds I felt disconnected from. I was never sure where I belonged and was always searching for spaces and communities that felt like home.
My mother mostly worked as a seamstress and my sisters and I also worked as soon as we were able, to support ourselves. I started my journey at age 14, in the service and retail industry, then in the dental field by age 19. These environments offered few rewards and even less respect. They demonstrated that not everyone has access to the same opportunities and resources. While these experiences didn’t really help me find my way, in hindsight they clearly showed me the life I did not want for myself.
In my 20s, I searched for what pulled at my heartstrings, knowing that I needed to find my way out of the normalized work vibe that I refer to as “hustle culture.” During this time I dove into an unknown world with a deep passion and desire for change—but no financial cushion. I decided to start a business: Made by Lino. This quest, I felt, would bring certainty and validation to my life’s purpose. I wanted something that offered me a sense of peace but also excited me. Something that could grow and become an amazing work environment for myself and others, with a community that made sense.
Of all of my hobbies, the one that stuck around the longest was food play. More specifically, baking. Before arriving at food play, I didn’t always appreciate my connection to food, how deeply rooted I was in the culinary process, passed down through generations.
I developed a profound love for food when I found myself committed to taking better care of my vessel and making intentional decisions about what types of foods I consumed in an effort to heal my body and spirit. This discovery fueled my desire to create unconventional baked goods and, in the process, support the abundant farms that surround us. I was determined to thrive within the baking industry.
At first, my baking experiments weren’t very delightful, but I liked the challenge. I spent many late nights and early mornings reading all the recipes I could get my hands on, expanding my knowledge any way I could. Initially, I was drawn to the bread-making process but bread requires a more mature skill set that includes patience and some technical understanding. So, I thought I’d play around with French macarons instead, as they were a trendy treat at the time (in 2014)—even though I’d never really eaten them. No local bakeries were making macarons, so I thought I’d try to make them “my thing.”
This is a little hilarious, considering they aren’t exactly the easiest or most logical starting place for a self-taught baker. (They’re also a far cry from the rice, beans, fried pastelitos and plantains of my youth, but that’s what intrigued me!) Nevertheless, these cookies propelled my genetic hustle energy and the drive to break out of scarcity mindset. It was time to get busy.
The Start of Made by Lino
I spent the next few years making French macarons, saving money where I could, meeting dope people, hosting pop-ups, and building brand awareness. By the grace of the universe, I eventually met business partners, Monocacy Coffee Co., and furthered the journey of my business, Made by Lino, by opening up a shared brick-and-mortar space called Lit. We figured out an arrangement that worked and officially opened in spring 2017. I jumped into entrepreneurship with passion and lots of verbalized hopes and dreams, but no actual business know-how, plan, or strategy. Somehow, with blessings from the universe yet again, Made by Lino operated that way for nine years.
I spent those years creating my style and educating myself on how to run a sustainable business. I leaned into the world of sourdough pastry and bread, right around the time I gave birth to my son, six years ago. This time, it seemed right to move into sourdough bakes. It’d ultimately be an approach that would contribute to my desire to slow down, live more intentionally, and honor my temporary time on this planet. But there was a disconnect. I was so in the flow of work that I couldn’t see I was actually upholding the “hustle.” Without even realizing it, I had become enslaved by my business.
You see, I’d wake up at 4am and make my way to the kitchen to prepare the edible magic I wanted to bless the community with. Kitchen lights on, apron tied, hands washed, oven heating up, I’d jump right into it. I’d egg-wash the pastries so the bakes would be ready by opening. I’d pull out the sourdough starter from the fridge, feed it. I’d “clock out” by 3pm, five days a week or sometimes six when needed. I’d go home—but when you work with food, you’re never away from it completely. I’d have to plan the business’s needs. There was always something to do and not enough pay to do it. As it turned out, through those years of hustling, Made by Lino found its center by making sourdough pastry and bread—another complicated process. Clearly, I am committed to running headfirst in the direction of challenges…
The Beauty of Collaboration
But it was fun and my team and I were always getting weird in the kitchen, making unique flavor combinations—products of my mind and palate working together to marry unexpected flavors. Among our heaviest hitters were guava and rosemary sourdough quesitos. We made these with our sourdough croissant pastry dough, filled with rosemary-infused sweet cream cheese and guava paste. A favorite amongst the team was the super-seasonal spiced peach and biquinho pepper sweet sourdough pastry, in any form. Biquinho peppers offer a tangy, citrusy flavor complemented by a sweet, fruity, smoky, and even floral aftertaste. They’re a perfect partner to peach.
My mind is always in collaboration mode, gauging how people or ingredients (or both) could mutually support one another, even if they aren’t what one would consider a “normal” pairing. We prioritized working with local farmers, makers, millers, and growers. This helped expand our sense of community and made everything that much more delicious, too.
But as I learned more about how to run a sustainable business for all involved, I knew that my current arrangement was not working. I had literally grown tired of the intense labor required, despite the heart and soul I had poured into it. I saw my role as a mother influencing how I approached baking. And I knew I could not continue to repeat the familiar hustle culture cycle that felt genetic. It’s not a positive way to live our temporary lives. It offers no ability to intentionally enjoy this human experience. There is a way to break free from this vicious cycle.
No More Hustle Culture
So, in fall 2023, I sold my stake in the company and closed my chapter at Lit. I needed to rest. I needed to integrate what I had learned, and apply it to a new strategy. And consider my next moves. I didn’t know what those moves would be, but I knew I had to stop so I could figure it out. Hustle culture doesn’t permit you the luxury of reflection. That’s because resting means there’s less (or no) income. Gaining autonomy over my own time is no easy feat, yet I remain determined.
In the meantime, I’ve taken on some meaningful part-time work which has helped free me up. However, I can’t quite stop baking. The in-between space affords a gentle stillness and the ability to create in ways I haven’t in a long time. I am redeveloping older recipes, creating new ones. I’m exploring my culture’s cuisine, wondering how I can bring value and worth to it. In time, I hope to offer a physical location for my community to come together, so I can again create the edible magic our customers have grown to love. And I want to operate with our team’s well-being at the forefront of every decision.
While I continue to nurture rest and gauge where life’s rhythm will take me next, I know that food is my life’s calling. It’s where I stop and explore my place. Baking has my heart and it will always be part of the next chapter. Occupying this space of uncertainty has been liberating. It’s permitted my creativity to just flow, with no hustle. It’s created a new identity and a new brand, From Lino, as a love letter to my community. I am reminded that food is magic.
I turned my wild and “unrealistic” dream into a reality before. I’m sure I can do it again, right?
