Wheatberries Bakery — Restaurant in Gibsons

So the wife and I were in Gibsons for her 40th birthday. It was just a short, 2 day trip but much needed.

There was a lot going on over on the mainland, so I wasn't as prepared as I thought I was. For starters, I forgot to arrange a cake.

It was only the two of us so I didn't need anything too big or fancy but that was not the main dilemma. You see, my wife only eats gluten free, so finding a gluten free cake in the last minute on a Monday, in Gibsons was nothing short of a miracle.

Luckilly, the coast is a miracle place to be.

I managed to find Wheatberries which was conveniently located mere minutes away from our place. When I called, they said it may be too last minute for a custom order gluten free cake, but that there was some sort of large, gluten free apple muffin they could put a frosting on for me. I accepted.

To my surprise when I got there the next day, it looked like a legit cake. 6 inches round and topped with a great looking frosting. It was also very reasonably priced.

When I took it back, I didnt know what to expect as I placed on the candles and sang happy birthday. She cut the cake, took a bite and her eyes lit up with joy!

I didn't even have to ask, she loved it.

We both took bite after delicious bite and our verdict quickly took shape. This was the best gluten free cake we had ever eaten. Our only moment of sadness was that it was so big that we may not have been able to finish it. Well, guess what my late night snack was....and breakfast :)

Needless to say, the fine people at Wheatberries were not only a positive and very happy bunch to deal with, but they make some amazing treats we will not soon forget.

Thank you for putting the icing...

🌷✨ A Morning Hug in the Shape of a Bakery ✨🌷

Stepping into this little bakery this morning felt like walking into a warm embrace. The soft hum of the coffee machine, the golden light pouring through the windows, and the quiet scent of fresh pastry—it all came together like the opening of a gentle poem.

We picked up two cheese cones, each one a perfectly baked swirl of comfort, warm and savoury, wrapped in just the right amount of golden flake. But what truly made the experience bloom was the moment I decided to swap the complimentary coffee I had from the hotel for something a little more meaningful. I asked for a double espresso with a bit of milk, and the kind gentleman behind the counter smiled and said, “Ah, what you’re asking for is a macchiato.” And just like that, I learned something new—served not just with coffee, but with care and intention.

There was something beautiful about that moment. His passion for his craft showed through every detail, not only in the drink he made, but in the way he explained it—with gentleness, with warmth, as if he were sharing a secret with a friend.

The space itself is equally lovely: cozy, calm, and perfect for slow mornings—whether you’re visiting with family, planning your day in Gibsons, or looking for a peaceful corner to work remotely with a good cup by your side.

This isn’t just a bakery—it’s a bouquet of kindness and craftsmanship, wrapped in the smell of fresh bread and the sound of soft conversation. If you’re nearby, treat yourself. Sit down, take a breath, and let the beauty of this place speak...

Ordered an iced Americano around 12:45 PM. Got a latte instead — full-on milk, no mistake about it. When I politely asked if it was really an Americano, the barista confidently said yes. Impressive. I didn’t know we were redefining coffee today.

Maybe next time I should bring a dictionary. Or a flag. Who knows, maybe the term “Americano” is too politically sensitive these days? I guess expecting the drink you ordered is just so last season.

As someone who recently moved to Canada from Korea, I know my English isn’t perfect — but I didn’t realize that meant I’d be gaslit over coffee. Being told I’m wrong about a drink I’ve been ordering my whole life? Iconic service.

Here’s a wild idea: if there’s a new Canadian policy where Americano is now called “Canadiano,” just tell me. I’m not unreasonable. But pretending the latte you gave me is an Americano? That’s either hilarious or insulting. Maybe both.

To be fair, the latte was delicious. Almost made me forget I was being treated like an...