Mabel Street's independent bakehouse runs on the old rhythm: ovens on before dawn, bread and pastries out by opening, the pie warmer refilled through the morning. The pies carry the shop's reputation, deep and generously filled, the kind of counter lunch that keeps tradesmen and touring cyclists in the same queue. Beyond them the cases hold sourdough and sandwich loaves, sausage rolls, custard tarts and the usual sweet slices, with proper coffee to sit in with or carry out. It is a small, family-run operation rather than a franchise bake-off station, closing when the weekday trade thins rather than trading late. In a highland town better known for its produce than its baking, it is the reliable morning stop, a working bakery doing the plain things carefully and getting the crust right.