Just Enough Cake: A Legacy Realized

When I think about love, I think about food. About family meals that were gestures of care, woven into our lives through cast iron pans and skillets. Growing up, I spent summers in Kannapolis, North Carolina, where my Great Grandma Polly would sell plates of chitlins and cook other soul food classics, especially for our annual family reunions. My Mama Diane, too, cooked with that same heart—preparing big, thoughtful meals for our extended family gatherings, or a special Sunday dinner just for the grandkids and my Papa Leonard.

They were meals made with purpose and presence. You could feel it in every bite. And long after the plates are cleared, the memories of those moments linger forever.

That kind of love becomes part of you. And that’s what I see in Stacy Taylor, a proud daughter of Brunswick, GA, an educator, and the creator of Cakique, a faith-rooted baking business that carries the legacy of care her mother instilled in her.

Behind every business is a beautiful and inspiring story—and Stacy’s is one of memory, ministry, and a bold leap of faith.

Raised on Johnston Street, Raised in Community

“I’m a Johnston Street kid,” Stacy tells me. “My household was the only house with an only child—but I was never lonely.” Growing up in Perry Park on Brunswick’s south side, she was part of a neighborhood crew lovingly dubbed the “Fab Five”—Torrence and Daina Blash, Larry and “Suga” Cobbs, and herself. “Bikes, Lanier Plaza, McDonald’s, free tag—you name it. My house was the house to go to.”

And in many ways, it was her first classroom.

“I used to set up centers in my room—coloring, dolls, Hot Wheels. Everyone rotated through. I even told my mom we needed snacks to keep it going,” she laughs. “She heard my heart and took me to Winn-Dixie to pick out cookies and Kool-Aid for my crew.”

Her parents nurtured her curiosity. Her dad, Winston Taylor, was a beloved fisherman known for delivering coolers of fresh catch to neighbors. “He didn’t just take me fishing—he taught me how to bait, cast, and reel. One time, Larry and I caught so many fish, my dad told us to stop. ‘Leave some,’ he said, proud and smiling.”

Decades later, she found herself teaching the children of her childhood friends. “At Glynn Academy, I taught or coached the sons of the Fab Five. It was full circle.”

Wanda Taylor: Master Nurturer, Quiet Baker

Her mother, Wanda Taylor, was a nurse for over 50 years, with a heart for healing both in and outside the hospital. “She didn’t consider herself a baker,” Stacy says, “but she baked to show care. It was her way of ministering to people.”

It was always the same: sour cream pound cake. Always from scratch. Always when someone needed love.

“She’d come home from the hospital, take care of me, and then start pulling out ingredients,” Stacy recalls. “I’d ask, ‘Why are you baking?’ And she’d say, ‘Someone had a baby. Someone’s sick. Someone needs a pick-me-up.’”

Wanda believed in teaching through action. “I remember thinking sour cream must be sweet because it went in the cake,” Stacy says with a laugh. “She let me try a big spoonful. Lesson learned.”

Her mother’s kitchen was always clean. Organized. Intentional. “Everything had a place and every place had a thing,” she’d say. “Now I understand—she was sowing seeds of service.”

A Cake, A Calling

The first time someone told Stacy she should sell her cakes, it wasn’t during a grand epiphany—it was during a moment of connection between two tired teachers. “I baked a pound cake for a close girlfriend. We were novice teachers, both stressed. She tasted it and said, ‘You should sell this.’ We laughed, talked about it, and kept going.”

That seed stayed planted. Years later, while working in school administration and under heavy professional stress, she turned to baking as a release. “I baked ten cakes in one weekend and gave them away. Everyone was so grateful, but I couldn’t keep that up consistently.”

Then came a plumbing issue.

“A piece in my commode broke,” she said. “I called my pastor to ask for a referral. Instead, he came to fix it himself.” Moved by his kindness, she decided to bake him a sour cream pound cake in return. “Then I remembered—I had promised his daughter-in-love a cake years ago when she was pregnant. I never delivered. So I baked one for her too.”

She brought the cakes to church. She didn’t tell them. They were gifts, made in love, delivered quietly. “When I saw their reactions, I told the Lord, ‘That felt good. I want to bake more.’”

And then came the whisper:

“Then bake.”

She pushed back: “But Lord, it’s too expensive to keep baking like this and giving it away.”

The response came clearly: “Then sell them.”

“I don’t want to give away whole cakes,” she argued.

“Then bake smaller cakes and sell them,” He said.

And just like that, Cakique was born.

The Tiny Shoppe Moment

Stacy’s first real test came during the Tiny Shoppe concert at Brown Butter, hosted by her friend and fellow education professional, Tresena Bowe.

“I baked two sizes: baby bundts and minis. My goal was to sell the baby bundts only—the minis were just generous samples,” she says.

But something unexpected happened. During intermission, one of her “kids” approached and asked how much the minis were. “I told her they were just samples,” Stacy recalls. “She said, ‘Well I’m throwing a baby shower, and these would be perfect.’”

She ordered 144 mini cakes on the spot.

“I realized right then that my community would show me what they needed. And if I listened and met the need, I’d be successful.”

Since then, Stacy has sold hundreds of minis and baby bundts—fewer than ten whole cakes total. “I learned that smaller is not less—it’s just enough.”

Baking as Ministry

“If my spirit’s not right, I don’t bake,” Stacy says. “It will show up in the cake.”

She lights candles. Plays music. Prays. “I think about who I’m baking for and what they might need. This isn’t just cake—it’s care.”

Each flavor tells a story:

• Wanda’s Original is the lemon pound cake her mother always made.

• Stacy’s Plain Jane is for her—vanilla-forward, no lemon.

• Winston’s Rum Cake celebrates her Jamaican father and his signature drink: rum and Coke.

• Taylor Cookie Dream was created at the request of a young friend who wanted Oreo cake.

• Brown Butter Bundt, a Snickerdoodle-inspired cake, was developed the very day Cakique was born.

“When I read reviews, people don’t just talk about flavor—they talk about comfort. About memories. That’s what I want. That’s what cake should do.”

A Legacy Witnessed

Before she passed, Wanda Taylor saw the first pages of Cakique’s story. Stacy asked her what she thought.

“I call Cakique a miracle because of how it happened. How it came about. Nobody planned it. It was God all the way. And I bless Him for it. I thank Him for blessing Stacy in such a mighty way because she knew nothing about baking up to this period.”

When Stacy asked what she thought Cakique would become, Wanda simply said:

“Oh! There’s no telling.”

“She often said, ‘Stacy, it’s just too much. It’s almost overwhelming,’” Stacy remembers. “I’m just grateful she got to witness it begin.”

Community Carried Me: The People Behind the Business

Throughout the journey, Stacy’s village has been the wind at her back.

Wanda Taylor, her mother, gave her the foundation. “She invested in me. Gave me a lust for learning and a curiosity about life.”

Tresena Bowe, her entrepreneurial doula, made space for Cakique to be born. “She challenged me with love and offered her shop. Tresena has been a sounding boarding and place of refuge. She has told me no, wait, and asked why. I trust her with Cakique. The most powerful question she asked is why I was waiting to start. I did not have a logical answer. We just started.‘’

Lori Peacock, affectionately known as the Popcorn Lady, demystified the cottage licensing process. “She welcomed me into her home, showed me everything, helped with my labels, and introduced me to so many valuable connections.”

Kathy “MK” Brooks, owner of Makers BWK, -notes- early 2000’s worked with her son Haiti youth group trip 2nd Story. Wait for Stacy for more. Add in Acceler8 win and link Lucas Center.

Denise Wedington, fellow Acceler8 participant and spiritual sister, provided a challenge that led to a powerful partnership. “We’re launching a plant-based line together—Cakique x His Organics—using her extracts.”

From the Classroom to the Kitchen—Same Heart, Same Mission

Today, Stacy teaches 7th grade Social Studies and continues to pour into young minds. “My classroom and my kitchen serve the same purpose: to make people feel loved, valued, and seen.”

She’s blending her two passions: education and nourishment. “Whether I’m building a calming corner for students or designing a cake for a wedding, the goal is the same—care.”

What She Hopes You Take Away

“Above all,” Stacy says, “I want people to know God loves them. That He wants to be in relationship with them. I just happen to say that with cake.”

Just enough cake—a taste of sweetness, a moment of care, a memory you didn’t know you needed.

Follow and Support Cakique

Find Stacy at local pop-ups in Brunswick, or follow her journey online:

📍 Instagram: @cakique.bakes

Whether you’re celebrating or simply craving a moment of joy—Cakique has just enough cake for you.

And that? That’s a legacy realized.