Baking a better connection
Rachel Curran built Odd Bird Bakery to create nourishing treats for her children. Along the way, she discovered the value of Colorado's grain economy.
July 20th, 2026
Rachel Curran is in the Colorado-grown grain pastry business because of her kids. She started Odd Bird Bakery Co. with the hopes of creating treats that were both joyful and nourishing.
“I wanted to offer something with some nutritional value alongside the fun of a decorative, sweet treat,” she explains.
For years, Curran rarely thought about where her flour came from. As a staple ingredient, it was simply an essential part of the pastries she made. But as Odd Bird Bakery Co. has evolved, sourcing whole grain, Colorado-grown flour has become about more than nutrition. It’s become a way to support a regional food system composed of local farmers, millers, and small business owners.
Curran’s love of baking began in the kitchen with her mom, decorating Christmas cookies and watching the Food Network. She attended culinary school with plans to become a private chef, but a brief stint garnishing cakes at Whole Foods and a job at a small, family-owned bakery shifted her path.
“I found my love for baking there,” she says.
Odd Bird started as a way for Curran to stay connected to her profession while raising her children at home. She started by filling weekly pastry orders for the company her husband worked for in Durango. During the pandemic, she introduced Saturday “Pajama Boxes,” an assortment of fresh pastries families could enjoy from home.
Since then, the business has grown to maintain a weekly presence at the Durango Farmers Market and expanded its wholesale options to coffee shops, natural grocery stores, and weddings and special events.
“The flour has been a journey,” alongside the evolution of the business, Curran continues. “When I had kids, I started really thinking about what I was putting into my food.”
That curiosity led her to the UCCS Grain School, where a class sparked a deeper interest in organic and locally grown flour. She first experimented with national brands, including King Arthur Baking Company, before turning her attention to Colorado-grown grain and regional mills.
That curiosity led her to the UCCS Grain School, where a class sparked a deeper interest in organic and locally grown flour. She first experimented with national brands, including King Arthur Baking Company, before turning her attention to Colorado-grown grain and regional mills.
Through the program, she discovered the Colorado Grain Chain and connected with regional mills including Dry Storage, Mountain Mama Milling, and Roaring Fork Mill. Those relationships reflect what Curran values most about Colorado's grain economy: a community of small businesses that support one another.
"All of these mills are also small family businesses," she says. "Together we can help each other out and boost each other up."
Through the process, Curran has gained a deeper appreciation for the complexity of the grain system — and the challenges faced by the farmers and millers who make local flour possible.
“It’s such a fine, delicate system,” she says. “People have no idea what farmers and these businesses go through to do what they love and what they believe in.”
That awareness has reshaped how Curran thinks about the role of a bakery in the community. For her, Odd Bird isn’t just about creating beautiful desserts. It’s about offering food that reflects a stronger connection between people and place.
“I feel so much better about what I’m putting out,” she says. “Not only is it safer to ingest, it’s also supporting these small businesses and people and families. I know them and I can call them.”
Making the switch wasn’t without challenges. As a small, self-funded business, changing flour sources meant adjusting pricing and wondering whether customers would understand the difference.
“That was a mental and emotional hurdle,” Curran says. “I believe this is the right thing to do, but I’m going to have to change my pricing and we might lose a few people.”
Instead, she found customers were willing to pay more once they understood the story behind the ingredients.
“People don’t blink an eye if they know it’s of value,” she says. “I really love the natural color of these flours. It’s so strange that we feel pastries need to be white. It’s so unnatural.”
Colorado-grown grain also transformed the pastries themselves, bringing new flavors, textures, and colors.
Some of her favorite examples are her almond poppy seed pound cake and the bakery’s cookies, which are among its biggest sellers at farmers markets and through packaged offerings.
“There’s just an earthiness to them,” she says. “They feel more substantial.”
Curran has also embraced less familiar grains, including rye and blue cornmeal. Her brown butter rye chocolate chip cookie has become a customer favorite, introducing many people to a grain many don’t expect in a sweet pastry.
“Can you taste the rye? It’s not what you think it is,” she says. “It’s slightly nutty and adds a bit of texture. It’s just more satisfying.”
For Curran, experimenting with grains has made baking more creative and meaningful. Instead of treating flour as an invisible ingredient, she sees it as part of the story behind every pastry, and the relationships she’s built along the way.
Looking ahead, Curran hopes to continue expanding Odd Bird’s wholesale presence and bring Colorado-grown grain products to more communities across the state. She also hopes to see a future where locally grown grains are no longer a specialty product, but a common part of everyday food.
“I just want to see them everywhere,” she says. “I want to do whatever I can to help these farms growing these grains thrive.”
For Curran, the shift to Colorado grain represents more than a change in ingredients. It is a reminder that every loaf cake, cookie, or pastry carries a connection — from the farmer who grows the grain to the miller who transforms it to the baker who brings it to the community.
And that's exactly what she hopes people taste.