There is bread. And then there is bread — the kind that makes you pause mid-bite. The kind that reminds you flour, water, and salt can become alchemy in the right hands. The kind that has people cycling miles into the Jonkershoek Valley just to bring a loaf home.
Motherdough’s newest outpost sits on Arkelshoek Farm, tucked into the mountains with the kind of quiet that feels increasingly rare. Cross a little yellow wooden bridge, wander up a flower-lined path, and you will find it: a vegetable and herb garden sprawling at its feet, basil and rocket bordering the seating areas, the peaks rising like ancient sentinels above. This is not just a bakery. It is a place designed for slowing down.
Lance Littlefield and Willem van Schalkwyk describe this location as their “agriturismo moment”. Step onto the property and you understand exactly what they mean. The air cools. The light shifts. The rhythm of the day changes. Suddenly, the outside world feels very far away.
At the heart of everything is Alfonsina, a 106-year-old pasta madre brought from Clusone, Italy. She is the starter, the soul, the quiet intelligence behind every loaf. Motherdough’s philosophy is beautifully uncompromising: 100 per cent natural fermentation, no commercial yeast, no additives, no shortcuts. The mother is the method, they say. And it shows.
The new bakery offers all the beloved classics — rustic sourdoughs in a variety of flours, laminated pastries, bomboloni (those glorious brioche doughnuts), golden cornetti, and toasties that have achieved legendary status among locals and cyclists refuelling after the trails.
But there are new touches, too. Small picnic platters arrive with local cheeses, Italian meats, Motherdough preserves, and crackers, all accompanied by their own olive oil and fresh bread. Weekend pizza is coming soon — a light, thin-based Romana-style pizza leavened by Alfonsina herself.
The pantry shelves are stocked with handmade crackers, seasonal preserves, and Italian essentials like Rummo pasta and San Marzano tomatoes. Soon, there will be fermented drinks too — alive, layered, and naturally crafted, just like the breads.
Lance puts it simply: “Eat proper bread.” It is a mantra, a mission, and an invitation. At Motherdough Jonkershoek, that invitation includes sitting among the herbs, breathing mountain air, and remembering that the best things take time.
Open daily from 7:30am. Go for the toasties. Stay for the stillness.
