Rachael Colasanto didn’t realize she needed to move to Tucson until she was already here.
She’s the kind of person from the New York suburbs who spends her young life assuming she will inevitably end up in the big city. And she did. Rachael was living in Bushwick, arguably the trendiest neighborhood in inarguably trendy Brooklyn, when she started making focaccia.
“When friends are over, we sometimes find ourselves debating the best bread,” she said.
Her partner, collagist and reason for leaving New York, Zakaria “Zak” Boucetta, is Moroccan. He speaks French and believes in the baguette. Rachael loves this about him, and also she wasn’t convinced.
“Baguette sandwiches ruin the top of my mouth with their crunchy outside,” she said, the memory of pain flashing in her eyes. No, she prefers focaccia: a soft bread, easily cut in half with just enough crunch on the outside.
“You can slice into it, bite into it with ease,” Rachael said.
Rachael Colasanto, owner of Holy Focaccia, poses for a photo in her home in Barrio Viejo in Tucson, Ariz. on May 19, 2022. Colasanto started the bakery a year ago while living in Brooklyn. She received a cottage food permit in order to bake at home and sell her bread.
When she still lived in the city, she would make a special trip to the rock star vegetarian restaurant Superiority Burger on Fridays, when they used focaccia for a bun.
“They were always experimenting, trying something new. It felt special to look forward to that one day a week,” she said.
After her focaccia made a splash at a dinner party, Rachael started regularly making the Italian bread in a kitchen barely wider than a human wingspan. Though Rachael would describe herself as a purist in most areas, focaccia was somewhere she could play.
“I’m the kind of person who takes themselves way too seriously,” she said. While focaccia can be straight-laced, topped simply with olives or herbs, she used the bread as a medium for expression.
Rachael Colasanto, owner of Holy Focaccia, preps a loaf of focaccia before baking it in her home in Barrio Viejo in Tucson, Ariz. on May 19, 2022.
Rachael considered herself a hobbyist until a chef friend from abroad lauded her work. Her focaccia’s crispy edges are tender in their olive-oiled fattiness, yielding to delightfully pillowy interior.
“I’ve had focaccia that wasn’t using olive oil the way they should,” she said. “To get that crispy edge, you need to slather,” she said.
Her flavor profiles catch your attention: a pink-crusted beet root focaccia with thyme, tarragon and coriander; artichoke and za’atar; chive and black garlic. Her favorite flavor is chimichurri, made with herbs, cilantro, garlic, jalapeño, sesame and za’atar.
Under Arizona’s cottage baking license, as a home baker she’s not allowed to use fresh vegetables, so she’s working on an adapted chimichurri recipe that uses dried cilantro. She attended a class about Tucson’s heritage foods — incorporating those ingredients is the next challenge on her horizon.
While her chef friend’s praise was the validation she needed to launch a business, Holy Focaccia, out of her home kitchen, “in New York it feels like whatever you’re doing isn’t special ‘cause there’s someone else doing it,” she said. Though she knew she was making something really good, she worried she would reach a point where she was charging friends for a product she used to offer them for free at her house.
Enter a job offer from Rick Joy Studios in Tucson, delivered to her partner Zak, who is an architect. Rachael was willing to leave New York, but she wasn’t trying to. The trope of a burnt-out Brooklynite, moving somewhere exotic in search of a simpler life? That’s not her story. “I didn’t know I needed to leave New York until I got here,” she said.
She loves Tucson and can articulate what is so great about our town with the fresh eyes of a newcomer. She loves the sense of ease here, how when she looks at her barista, full of gratitude for her morning coffee, and thanks them, they both have a moment to connect on a human level. In New York, that precious exchange was lost in the bustle.
“I think people value collaboration over competition here,” she said. “Zak has this colleague from Mexico City, who he asked, ‘What is it about Tucson? What makes it special?’ [His colleague] responded saying, ‘You come here and you don’t have an ego. It’s about learning and living,’” she said.
Rachael Colasanto, owner of Holy Focaccia, sprinkles black and white sesame seeds onto a loaf of focaccia as she bakes in her home in Barrio Viejo in Tucson, Ariz. on May 19, 2022.
Holy Focaccia has mostly spread through word-of-mouth and recommendations on social media. I found out about Holy Focaccia when foodie Melissa Stihl featured Holy Focaccia in an Instagram Story. Some have heard about it from Rachael’s neighbor, an early adopter. Most people find out through their friends.
For now, Rachael is still working full-time remotely, rolling out of bed for 6 a.m. Zoom calls on weekdays. She gets up just as early on weekends, but of her own volition, to go on a hike, or to prepare or bake her focaccia in her home.
Black and white sesame seeds top a loaf of focaccia made by Rachael Colasanto, owner of Holy Focaccia, in Tucson, Ariz. on May 19, 2022.
There’s a morning golden hour, about 60 minutes past sunrise, when sunlight beams through her kitchen window. She gets up for that moment in the sun and to make bread that will be picked up on her front porch. That precious focaccia will then be broken and savored among friends, loved ones — neighbors and Tucsonans all.
“I’m here for the community,” Rachael said. “I feel like that’s what so many people want.”
Holy Focaccia
Location: Rachael Colasanto’s home in Barrio Viejo; she will disclose the address upon confirming your order.
Hours: Flavors of the week are posted on Wednesdays. Orders are accepted Wednesday-Saturday by Instagram direct message. Pickups are from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. on Sunday.
Price: $8 for a piccola (6 inches by 9 inches) | $18 for a grande (12 inches by 16 inches)
For more information, check out their Instagram page.
