From a Brooklyn apartment kitchen to nationwide fame, the journey of Bantam Bagels is a testament to entrepreneurial grit and the pursuit of a dream. In this exclusive interview, co-founder, Elyse Oleksak, and author of A Shark Ate My Bagel, shares the story behind Bantam’s rise to prominence with KBP Editor, Kiran Grewal, including pivotal moments like the partnership with Starbucks.
Can you share with us the journey of Bantam Bagels, from its inception to its peak in the market, especially focusing on its unique selling points and key milestones?
The story of Bantam Bagels began with an idea that struck my husband, Nick, in the middle of the night. From that moment – that lightbulb flash of genius moment – my husband and I were all in. We began by baking hundreds of batches in our Brooklyn apartment kitchen. On nailing the recipe, we opened a tiny shop in NYC’s West Village, learning about the New York food industry along the way. With the desire for Bantam Bagels established nationwide, (from exposure on QVC, Shark Tank, and Oprah’s Favorite Things), we grew our business to nearly every coffee shop (Starbucks) and grocery store in America.
People specifically loved the idea of eating something authentic, nostalgic, and delicious in a fun, accessible way!
How did the partnership with Starbucks come about, and what impact did it have on the growth and visibility of Bantam Bagels?
The partnership with Starbucks was perhaps our most critical growth milestone. It allowed Bantam to establish ourselves as a premium, on the go offering for EVERYONE across the United States. We worked our butt’s off to get that opportunity, beginning with three stores in NYC, and then 30, then 500, 1500 and on and on until we reached full National. At each expansion, Nick and I personally visited and handed out samples to customers at every single café. We learned about the operations, what customers wanted, and what they didn’t want. We poured every ounce of our beings into making that deal happen. We were able to simultaneously grown and invest in our infrastructure to keep up with the expansion of Starbucks distribution in phases.
Could you discuss some of the challenges or obstacles that Bantam Bagels faced during its rapid expansion, particularly in terms of scaling production and maintaining quality?
There wasn’t a single step forward that wasn’t paired with an equally devastating loss, mishap or calamity. One that stands out is from our first launch in grocery:
“Bursting with excitement, Nick, Hannah, Chase and I fly out to San Francisco to see our Bantam Bagels on grocery store shelves first-hand. Running through grocery aisle after aisle, we search high and low for the first box of frozen Bantams. Nick asks a store staffer but nobody knows what he is talking about. We keep looking, but still nothing. A large wave of disappointment physically knocks the wind out of me.
I wheel Chase in the front seat of a shopping cart towards the customer service desk: “Hi there, would you mind looking up a new product for me?” I’m desperate, my voice is shaking as I say, “They’re called Bantam Bagels.”
“Sure, one moment,” the customer service lady types something into her computer. “Says here they just arrived. You can find them in Aisle 1, Bakery.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard correctly… Bakery?” I stutter. “We shipped frozen bagels on a frozen truck. Can you please check that again?”
“That’s what it says here,” she confirms.
“Thank you,” I say and bolt towards the first aisle. Chase giggles at me from his seat in the shopping cart.
Immediately I see it – my eye catches our beautiful, perfectly packed and cared for frozen bagel boxes, dumped into a stand-up wire mesh round bin, tossed in there like a bunch of Ding Dongs on sale for the holidays. At room temperature!
I pick up a box – soggy, melted. Ruined.
Nick rushes towards me and stares at the box. Our sunken hearts deflate. My body shrinks. The effort and hope we clung on to plunge into the dark recognition of failure.
I open my inbox and scroll back to our e-mails with the buyer, preparing myself to tell him about the mistake of our placement (that we paid for). That’s when I see it – clear as day. In his e-mail signature:
“Bakery Buyer
Safeway NorCal.”
“Nico, he’s the bakery buyer. It was there all along right in front of our faces,” I say, annoyed at myself for missing this key fact. “We never thought to ask where our product would be placed!”
The remainder of the week is dedicated to sulking from store to store in the Bay Area, begging managers to move our bagels into a freezer. Without being written into the frozen planogram – the visual instructions that tell stores exactly where to place each item – our efforts are pretty much fruitless. We tell the store workers that any product that has been out more than a few hours has to be thrown away and re-ordered. All that hard work wasted. A colossal win converted to an epic disaster.
Karen works the phones back from Manhattan, calling every Safeway that we were unable to personally visit, asking them to throw out the spoiled bagels so we don’t find ourselves facing a recall or lawsuit. Hannah finds a vendor that will visit the stores again next week (for a huge fee) and ensure that product is tossed, re-ordered, and most importantly, when the new bagels arrive, that they are placed in a freezer.
Before our flight back to New York, Nick and I drive over to one of the few stores where we were able to secure a freezer spot in the freezer and ask a store employee to take a picture of us. We jump, point to Bantam Bagels boxes, and “Boomerang” about a dozen shots. I save them for later, certain that we’ll need these one day. We aren’t giving up this easily.”
The book mentions the company’s impressive retail sales figures, including its presence in thousands of stores nationwide. What were some of the key factors behind this widespread distribution, and how did you manage to maintain consistency across various outlets?
We only ever used one co-manufacturer and stayed diehard about producing our original recipe with NYC tap water (the key to an authentic NYC bagel). We also joined our co-manufacturing partners at least weekly, if not more, to review, discuss and be present during the manufacturing process. We always believed that we are only as good as our bagel!
The personal challenges you faced must have been incredibly difficult. How did you navigate these hardships, both personally and professionally, and what lessons did you learn from these experiences?
That there is no such thing for me as work-life “balance”. The way I was able to make it work was by creating a work-life “co-existence”. A world where date nights with my husband were squeezed into work trips, and where I worked from the delivery room. It’s how we made it all work!
There’s been ongoing support for Bantam Bagels, evident from the active petition to bring the company back. What are your thoughts on this grassroots movement, and do you see any potential for a revival of the brand in the future?
I definitely think that there are many people out there that would support the relaunch of Bantam Bagels, and I’m one of them for sure!
What role did your appearance on Shark Tank play in the trajectory of Bantam Bagels, and how did securing a deal with Lori Greiner influence the company’s operations and strategy?
Perhaps the most valuable part of Shark Tank (aside from getting an INCREDIBLE, brilliant new partner in Lori) was the fans that came with the show. With Shark Tank, we had people who rooted for us. Here’s an anecdote showing this incredible loyalty and how much it helped in critical times:
It’s Friday night, January 9, 2015. 8:50 p.m.
Nick and I have waited, planned, obsessively prepared. A year and a half devoted to this opportunity. We have scenario-built, interviewed other show “survivors,” conceived every possible what if in the preparation for this very moment: our episode, on national television show, ABC’s Shark Tank.
We are both shaking with butterflies, anxiety and adrenaline. Combustible beings, who could detonate from the buildup of pressure at any moment. There are around nine million viewers across America tuning in from their living rooms, while everyone we personally know is crammed into this West Village bar – A dark, narrow, TV lined sports bar with tables and chairs squeezed into every nook available for a viewing party.
The group here to support us is rowdy, energized. Pitchers of beer are passed around as people casually chat and await the airing. Nick and I stand at the front of the crowd, squeezing each other’s hands, hearts hammering, darting eyes between all six TVs in the bar tuned in to Shark Tank and the laptops we brought to monitor our web traffic… our website is the only platform for selling a single bagel in this vital moment.
Every hard-earned dollar – both from our personal savings and from the business account – has been converted into bagels, like money thrown onto a Vegas roulette table. The mortgage payment backlogged, a stack of business bills accruing interest, employee paychecks, rent for our shop, all laid bare on the line. The future of our blood, sweat, tears and dreams are prisoner to this very moment.
We are all in. Risking the house for tonight.
Those who prevail in front of the Tank’s die-hard viewers catapult into prominence, established among the show’s legendary entrepreneurs who made it. Those who fail melt into obscurity, their products and stories a myth of forewarn, found only in Dollar Store discount bins under “As Seen on TV” signage.
It begins…
The bartender kills the house music, and the TV volume echoes on high. All bodies reflexively compress together, the room warms, unblinking eyes locked in, only few whispers can be heard, as the collective mass anxiously awaits Nick and Elyse’s TV selves to hit the screen.
I see myself, hands intertwined with Nick’s, walking down the famous Shark Tank hallway and hitting our marks. “Hi Sharks,” Nick begins. He looks so confident, innocent, and sweet.
I fix my gaze on the laptop screen to see our website traffic bar shoot up. It reads 1,000, now 2,000, 5,000…. Holy crap, it hits 10,000 concurrent visitors on our site! Three minutes into our segment, and the crowd here is captive. They’re rooting for us like the home team. Not to mention the sales. Nick and I open our mouths to exchange a silent scream as sales pour in as rapidly as the traffic.
But then, it happens. In a dreamlike flash, Nick and I freeze – transfixed on our monitors. The crowd at the bar is glued to the TV. But we know before knowing. Something is wrong. The analytics screens on both laptops grind to a halt.
The room blurs, as I frantically scan left and right, grabbing & refreshing every phone within arm’s reach, tapping desperately on the computer keyboard, punching away at the keys like a boxer fighting for my life. And then I just know.
Our website has crashed.
Our entire past and future invested in inventory that nobody can access. Snap. Hopeful optimism evaporates and the panic of survival hijacks our moment in the sun.
We dive deep into problem solving mode. Without speaking a word, we snatch up our laptops and ditch the crowd, ejecting ourselves out of the moment of enjoying our success and back to fighting for it. We exit the bar without pausing to tell anyone where we are going; we need a place to work. Our apartment back in Brooklyn is too far – we cannot wait that long. We need outlets, quiet, and Wi-Fi as soon as possible. Jacketless, on the freezing New York City streets, Nick and I dodge around the corner and storm through the aisles of a 24-hour CVS. We make our way to the back pharmacy where empty chairs and outlets are calling our names.
“How is this happening?!” I say to Nick, rhetorically.
We had prepped our website, done our research, considered every last detail, hired the right team, but still we failed. Our phones are blowing up with tens of thousands of e-mails, Facebook messages, tweets and texts all telling us what we already knew: “Your site has crashed! I want to buy these bagels but I can’t.” While we begin to furiously type away, responding to each message personally, Nick dials our web team on one line and Lori Greiner, our newest business partner, on the other. A true entrepreneur, Lori jumps into troubleshooting mode. She never once pauses to blame or ask what went wrong. She asks calmly, “What can I do? What should I Tweet? How can I help?”
The hosting server team on the other line finally admits their error. They hadn’t prepped our site as we had agreed (and paid) for it to be set up. Dumbfounded and shocked, like a punch to the gut, hearing that admittance somehow makes it even worse.
We continue to frantically work, not losing even one precious second of customer communication for the hope of salvaging every possible sale. Sales mean our survival. Nick and I stay typing away in our makeshift mobile office, in CVS, until well past midnight, fielding a second wave of e-mails and calls when the episode goes live on the West Coast three hours later.
Shattered, drained, and delirious, we pack up, figuring it’s time to trade in our dress-up clothes for PJs and continue the effort from home. Sitting side by side in a cab to Brooklyn, we hot-spot our computers and continue to respond to frustrated customers as we drive past happy crowds of our New York peers chatting, dancing and laughing in the streets. I ache remembering a life before Bantam when we also enjoyed weekends without work.
Nick and I heavily hit our pillows, silencing our still-vibrating phones. Hundreds of new e-mails flood in with every second that passes.
At 7:00 a.m., two hours before our Bleecker Street bakery opening time, our lead baker calls Nick’s phone,
“Hurry to the shop! There’s a line around the block!” he instructs excitedly.
Giddy, reawakened by the prospect, we slam both computers shut, shove a change of clothes into a bag, phone my mother to come and watch the baby, and hurl our confused bodies out the door.
On arriving at Bleecker Street, I pause to absorb what’s in front of me: I’m not hallucinating. These people are real. They showed up because they believe in us, the vulnerable human beings behind these delicious mini bagels. Nick pulls on an apron and jumps in with the crew rolling bagels, topping, baking, filling. I station myself at the register – I have to be there, I need to say hello to each person, to serve each bagel, to watch the crowd swell hour after hour to believe the reality of this turn of events. Nick, the staff and I spend 10 intoxicating hours greeting and serving thousands of eager customers. Web sales pour in at a steady rate, our social media continues to blow up and by mid-morning “Bantam Bagels” becomes a national Twitter trend. Thousands of customers who were originally unable to access our site actually came back the next day to place orders.
Lori sends us a message to tell us how proud she is of us. I respond:
The survivors get knocked down and step up only to come back and work harder and fight harder to keep their business and dream alive.
I exhale and hit send.
Reflecting on your entrepreneurial journey with Bantam Bagels, what advice would you offer to aspiring bakery business owners, especially in terms of navigating the highs and lows of entrepreneurship and building a resilient brand?
I’ve spent almost two years reflecting on this question, and ultimately, the culmination of those lessons is summarised by the following:
That control over your life requires taking risk…
That hustle overrides expertise…
That sometimes you just have to say ‘yes’ and find a way to make it happen…
That human connection is the lifeblood of business…
And that success cannot exist without challenge, learning, change, adaptation, and evolution.
Editorial contact:
Editor: Kiran Grewal kgrewal@kennedys.co.uk
