Follow the flour, devour by the hour, where sourdough rises with crusty power, Main Grain’s baking up Point’s little flour-filled tower. Baguettes get crackly, cookies get sweet, scones by the dozen keep tempting your feet, and Asiago thyme makes bread smell dangerously neat. Then lunchtime lands with a sandwich attack, stacked on their sourdough and built with a knack, soup riding shotgun while crumbs mark your track. Grab a loaf for later, a sweet for the road, maybe another because restraint just slowed, then wander out happy with a carb-heavy load. Stevens Point, you’ve got grain in your game, flour on the counter and fire to the flame, when bread is this good, Main Grain earns the name. Peace. Piece. Peas. Mr. E & Justin Thyme

















