Stone hearth · Wild yeast · Kiln Row

Bread worth
getting up early for.

We mill, mix and shape by hand, then bake straight on the stone deck of a 1932 brick oven. Nothing leaves the bench in under eighteen hours — and you can taste every one of them.

Freshly baked sourdough loaves cooling on a wooden rack
18hslow
ferment
Baked daily from 4am
Stone-milled Yorkshire flour
No commercial yeast
Closed Mondays

What we're about

Three ingredients, a lot of patience.

Flour, water, salt. Everything else — the sour tang, the open crumb, the crackle when the crust cools — comes from time and temperature, not additives. Our starter, Maud, has been fed twice a day since 2016.

We're a small team of six on Kiln Row. We bake what we can do properly, sell it until it's gone, and shut the door with a clean bench.

The counter

A short menu, changed by the season.

01 / Bread

Country & rye

The Kiln Row Country, a 30% wholemeal rye, and a seeded spelt batard. Whole loaves and halves, sliced on request.

02 / Pastry

Laminated by hand

Croissants rolled with Ampleforth butter, morning buns rolled in cardamom sugar, and whatever fruit the market gave us.

03 / Table

Coffee & a stool

Eight seats, filter coffee from Leeds roaster Sett & Co, and a toasted slice with cultured butter and sea salt.

Read the full menu

Kind words

People come back for the crust.

“I've queued in Copenhagen and Paris for bread that wasn't this good. The rye alone is worth the train.”

— Dervla McCann, Harrogate

“They remembered my daughter's name and her favourite bun by the third visit. That's the whole thing, isn't it.”

— Tom Ashworth, Kiln Row

“We've served the Country loaf at the pub for two years. Customers ask who bakes it, every single week.”

— Priya Nadar, The Fleece Inn

Reserve ahead

Put a loaf aside for Saturday.

Tell us what you'd like and when you'll collect it. We hold reservations at the counter until 1pm — no deposit, no fuss.

Reserve a loaf

Our story

A cold oven, a stubborn starter, and a very long winter.

Hearth & Stone began in the back room of a hardware shop on Kiln Row, with one secondhand mixer and a brick oven everyone said was beyond saving.

Nell Ashcombe had spent nine years baking in other people's kitchens — a hotel in Bath, a bakery outside Lyon, two years of night shifts in Manchester — before she found the oven. It had been bricked up behind plasterboard since the seventies. It took four months and a retired stonemason named Ger to bring it back.

That oven still sets the rhythm of the day. It holds heat for hours, which is why the crusts come out the colour they do, and why we bake in a strict order: bread first at the fiercest heat, then pastry, then tarts as the deck cools through the afternoon.

Nell Ashcombe, founder and head baker, in front of the brick oven

The day

What happens between midnight and noon.

No shortcuts, no part-baked deliveries, no dough that arrived frozen on a lorry. Just a rota that starts when most of Kiln Row is asleep.

11:30pm

Maud gets fed

The starter is refreshed and the first mix goes into the bowl for a long, cool autolyse.

4:00am

The deck comes up

Fire in, temperature stabilised at 250°C. Loaves are shaped, scored and loaded by hand on a wooden peel.

6:15am

Pastry hits the heat

Croissants and morning buns, laminated the previous afternoon and proofed overnight in the cold room.

7:30am

Doors open

Everything is out on the shelf warm. We sell until it's gone, which on a Saturday is usually just after eleven.

Where it comes from

We know the name of everyone who grows our flour.

Flour

Thwaite Mill, Wharfedale

Stone-ground wheat and rye from a family mill twenty-two miles up the valley. Delivered Tuesdays, never bleached, never treated.

Butter

Ampleforth Dairy

Cultured, 84% fat, churned in small batches. It's the reason our lamination shatters instead of bending.

Fruit

Hollins Farm & the market

Rhubarb in February, damsons in September. If it isn't in season here, it isn't on the tart.

The team

Six of us, one bench.

Nell heads the bread; Josip runs pastry and has an unreasonable opinion about cardamom quantities. Fern and Callum work the counter and know roughly four hundred regular orders by heart. Ger still comes by to check on the oven, and Maud, technically, is staff.

We pay above the real living wage, we close on Mondays so everyone gets two days in a row, and we donate the end-of-day shelf to the Kiln Row community kitchen.

Founded
2016
Starter age
Maud, 9 years
Loaves per day
Around 240
Oven
1932 brick deck
Wholesale partners
7 local kitchens

Find us

14 Kiln Row, Otley,
LS21 3PW.

Second door past the ironmonger, blue frontage, usually a queue by half seven on a Saturday. Eight stools inside, two benches out front when the weather allows.

Tuesday – Friday
7:30am – 2:00pm
Saturday
7:30am – 1:00pm
Sunday
8:30am – 12:30pm
Monday
Closed
Telephone
01943 660 118
Email
hello@hearthandstone.co.uk

Step-free entrance, dogs welcome on the front benches, and there's free two-hour parking behind the market hall, three minutes' walk.

Reserve a loaf or ask us anything

Reservations are held at the counter until 1pm on your collection day. No deposit needed.

The bakery counter and bread shelves at Hearth & Stone

Before you ask

Frequently asked

Do you sell out?

Regularly. Bread usually lasts until about 12:30pm on weekdays and 11am on Saturdays; pastry goes faster. Reserving is the reliable route — send us a note the day before and we'll box it up.

Can I order a celebration cake?

We don't do tiered or iced cakes, but we do large tarts, focaccia platters and boxes of forty buns for events. Give us five days' notice through the form above.

Is anything gluten-free?

No. We work with open flour on a shared bench and a shared oven, so we won't claim a safe gluten-free product. We'd rather be honest than careful-ish.

Do you deliver?

Only to wholesale partners, on a standing order of ten loaves or more within Otley and the surrounding villages. Everything else is collection from the shop.

What happens to unsold bread?

It goes to the Kiln Row community kitchen every evening at close. Anything past that becomes breadcrumbs for the cheese and onion rolls, or croutons for the Fleece Inn.