Can a cookie change a life?
Sister Jean Thuerauf thought so when she opened the Cookie Cart bakery in north Minneapolis 25 years ago as a way to keep neighborhood teens busy.
It changed Dominique Nelson's life. She started at Cookie Cart as a young teen. Now 22 and a graduate of the culinary program at St. Paul College (and working on a bachelor's degree in business), she supervises youth workers as part of the bakery support staff — when she's not tweaking the Cart's recipes.
The nonprofit bakery started simply over a bowl of flour, sugar and eggs in the home kitchen of Sister Jean, who was part of the nondenominational Mercy Missionaries. What better way to connect with neighborhood youths than while making cookies? When she realized that the older ones needed a more challenging task, she encouraged them to think big. Really big. Big as in "Let's open a bakery."
And faster than you can say "snickerdoodle," they did. But even she did not anticipate the growth of the Little Bakery That Could. Last year, the Cookie Cart made and sold 42,500 dozen cookies (do the math: that's 510,000 cookies). You've probably eaten at least one of them, since they regularly appear at local corporate functions, theaters and churches. (That M&M cookie at the budget meeting, the sugar cookie at the theater intermission, the coconut-toffee cookie at the church fellowship hour? Probably from the Cookie Cart.)
And it all started at a kitchen table.
Today the Cookie Cart on W. Broadway is poised to expand, restructuring its space to accommodate more teens and, as a result, more cookies.
Note the order. Teens first, cookies second. If this were business as usual, Cookie Cart's goal would be to sell more cookies. Period.