18 Mile Bakery — Restaurant in Town of Hamburg

We found 18 Mile Bakery the old-fashioned way—via loose directions like, “It’s over there… by the thing.” After a small tour of “over there,” we pulled up to the brown building with the bold sign and stepped into a room that smells like warm butter, toasted grain, and a promise.

Inside, it’s all open production: racks of cooling loaves, a whiteboard with the fall lineup scribbled across it, steel ductwork humming overhead, ovens glowing like a kiln, and a counter piled high with the day’s work. The boys pressed up to the glass; I don’t blame them. The case reads like a love letter to fermentation.

What we tried (and what we’d go back for tomorrow)

Sourdough croissants — Proper layers, deeply bronzed, crisp enough to snow crumbs on your shirt. We grabbed two with pistachio cream (tipped in white glaze and dusted green) and another with blueberry-lemon (that lavender speckled finish you can spot from the door). The pastry is laminated but also alive—a hint of sourdough tang that keeps the butter honest.

Strawberry cream-cheese Danish (sourdough) — A textbook coil: custardy center, jam bright with actual fruit, edges laminated and glossy. Sweet, yes, but balanced—more bakery case Paris than mall kiosk.

Brown-butter sourdough chocolate-chunk cookies — Chewy centers, caramelized edges, big chocolate tiles. The brown-butter note hits first, then that faint sourdough depth that makes you take “one more” purely for research.

Sourdough banana bread — Not cloying; you taste banana, nut, and grain in equal measure. Moist without oil slick. Breakfast, solved.

Chocolate-peanut-butter sourdough loaf (sliced) — A marbled swirl that eats like a grown-up dessert bread. We boxed extra “for the week” and it lasted two days—because “the week” is a construct.

House loaves — The shelves along the espresso station hold rounds labeled sourdough, country wheat, and friends. We took home a sesame-topped number; the crust sings when you squeeze it, and the crumb is open but sturdy—built for soup or reckless buttering.

Service is no-nonsense friendly: quick hellos, confident recommendations, and a team that is clearly mid-bake while also keeping the line moving. The espresso machine is pulling shots; there are pump pots for drip; a fridge stocks local milks and bottled drinks. It’s a working bakery first and a retail counter second—which is exactly the charm. You’re inches from the craft.

Space is tight (this is a grab-and-go operation), but it’s clean, organized, and well-signed. Prices are posted on handwritten tags; the vibe is farmhouse-industrial without the Instagram theater.

Pro tips

Go early. The good stuff leaves in boxes. Reheat right. Croissants come back to life at 350°F for 3–5 minutes. Think in multiples. Anything with “sourdough” in the name ages gracefully and makes heroic toast.

Once we actually found it, 18 Mile Bakery turned into a small master class in fermentation and restraint. The boys were transfixed; I was impressed; our car smelled like happiness all the way home. It’s the kind of place that reminds you how much personality a flour-water-salt starter can have when patient hands...

Let me convince you not to get a bacon egg & cheese croissant, and just get a croissant, because they're so good on their own.

The bacon is good. The egg is good. The cheese is good. The problem? The croissant was fantastic. Anything you put on a croissant takes away from the simplicity and purity of a great croissant. I got a pistachi and a plain croissant as a B/E/C. The pistachio was fantastic - but maybe it was a fluke. So I got to the B/E/C and it was good - but then I got to a bit of just the croissant without anything else and realized my mistake. The crispy flaked dough shattered and crunched with the flavor of browned butter. It didn't want the egg. It didn't need the egg. I should have enjoyed it alone as I could have truly appreciated the croissant alone.

When talk about this place to friends, I'll tell them about the pistachio croissant, on its own, and how that was the star, the thing that made me say "wow, that was special" and then ponder getting a couple to take home along with a loaf of bread (I did, by the way).

Croissants, when they're special, are amazing - but if you'll excuse me, I feel like I might be considered as agreeing with the French (who didn't invent the croissant) and should go sit in the woods and drink coffee and watch bald eagles soar..... While dreaming about how dang good these...

Wow this has only been opened for 3 months but has a feel of being opened for years. Selection is simple which I like. It is not overwhelming. If I lived nearby I would come and get some bread to take home. We got the maple, pistachio, and raspberry chocolate croissant. They are filled with flavored cream cheese and dipped on one end with icing. The maple one was our favorite. The icing was super yummy. I also ordered a chai tea and it was not weak. It had a lovely strong flavor of spices. Best chai tea I've had. These remind me of something I had in Napoli and having a sfogliatelle. It was so easy to chew and had a nice crunch. I haven't found anything in the states that comes close...