It was a strange winter in Syracuse, New York. There wasn’t a lot of snow, but the cold had a sharper edge than any year before.
It’s 5:30 am and a slightly ajar door lets warm air and the scent baking bread spill out on to the cold street. The light from the bakery was yellow-orange and comfortingly dim, glowing through a large fogged window in the dark before sunrise. It made me shudder, the contrast in temperature, as I stood waiting for permission to be let. I was aiming to be polite.
Jimmy Retzos saw me through the doorway, raised an eyebrow at me standing there in the cold like a loon, and waved me inside. His broad hands already had a dusting of flour.
Inside was sweltering, the oven’s radiating heat quickly stopping my shivering. The bakers of Columbus Baking Company were already in full swing, prepping a first batch of dough to proof and then be shaped for baking. Jimmy jumped into the fray after a brief hello.
Founded in 1895 by Italian immigrants, Columbus Baking Company has built a reputation out of consistency. At the heart of the operation is the Greek-American Retzos family. Jimmy, the current owner and operator took over from his father, James. George Retzos, Jimmy’s grandfather, was born in Greece and immigrated to Syracuse in 1948 and began working at Columbus Baking Company almost immediately. He took ownership in 1974, and the bakery has been with the family ever since.
This is bread that has earned generational love. Families in Syracuse, New York have been coming to this bakery for years, parents passing on the love to their children who in turn pass it on to their own.
Consistency was a lesson that was ramrodded into Jimmy’s head from the start. If the bread isn’t perfect, if it isn’t the exact same as the day before, than it wasn’t good enough. He told me about the times that, when he was starting at the bakery with his father and grandfather, the older bakers would come by and judge his rolling and kneading. They would snatch the dough from his grasp and throw it across the bakery while growling at him to start over.
“It was hard. They were tough men. But they were good people,” said Jimmy. The inside of the bakery is a monument to these individuals in many ways. Photos of them cover the walls alongside old newspaper articles; a visual line traced from the start of the business to the present. Most of them have passed on, but some are still alive. Their influence remains a quiet, but palpable, constant.
I continued to visit Columbus Baking Company on and off for a year. Jimmy was always nice enough to let me hang around with my camera, talking to customers and yapping with the bakers he hired to help. I learned the ideal time to come in for a loaf that’s been baked longer so you can enjoy a magnificent crust. I learned about the community, and how Jimmy watched the Northside of Syracuse change from window that faces out on to the street. The bakery has remained a constant.
Jimmy often joked about being a “doer,” that he didn’t bother overthinking and preferred to keep everything simple and straightforward. He was much more quiet when we first me, but over time he started talking more.
He would drop little pearls of wisdom throughout my time in the bakery; words of advice on life and family he received 20 years ago when I was a child and he was just starting as a baker. He would talk about his kids, his wife, his father, and the men of the bakery who made him who he is.
I would watch him chat with holiday crowds, the post-Sunday mass droves, and odd stragglers who came in during lunch hours. He would ask about their kids, their families, and how their lives were. I watched him file away all that information behind his stern face and inquisitive eyes.
When it came time for me to leave Syracuse, I stopped by the bakery to say goodbye. It was spring now — warm, early morning sunlight creeping across pavement with a light breeze lilting through the air — and I found myself stood outside the bakery once again. Jimmy saw me, raised his eyebrows, and stepped outside. He joked that I could come inside, but I politely told him I had to leave soon, but I had some people I wished to say bye to in person.
Jimmy was never a man of many words. He just flashed a small smile and held out his palm, calloused with a light dusting of flour on it. As we shook hands, I couldn’t help but feel dazed. Time had passed by so fast.
I hope (know) that Columbus Baking Company will continue to stand for another hundred years. I can’t fathom what changes might happen over that time to it’s appearance or it’s staff, but I do know one thing…
The bread will always stay the same. That’s a constant.
I photographed the bakery on and off from early 2023 to late 2024. I said goodbye in 2025. I want to thank Jimmy Retzos for kindly giving me so much of his time over the years. Please support them if you are ever in Syracuse, New York. Always remember: One loaf for home, one loaf to eat on the way back.