In the wee hours, an Anchorage pastry chef finds reasons for gratitude

A neon sign in the window threw a red glow on the icy, empty parking lot of a South Anchorage strip mall at 5:30 a.m. The Flying Dutchman Pastry Shop was a half-hour from opening, but Freida Koper had been busy inside for several hours already.

On the day before Thanksgiving, Koper, the owner, arrived at 1 a.m. to ramp up for the busy day ahead. That’s earlier than normal, but not by much. She’s usually there before 2. Before the doors opened Wednesday, she had already baked pumpkin apple coffee cakes and chocolate cakes. She had rolled out dough for croissants and made bran muffins. Racks of pastries behind her were full, awaiting space inside the gleaming glass showcases in the front of the small shop.

“Everything is packed full right now and I’m running out of space,” she said.

Much of The Flying Dutchman’s extra energy had already been expended in the run-up to the food-centered holiday. Chocolate had been poured in turkey-shaped molds. Her popular European flans, created of almond paste, cream cheese, fruits and nuts, have been baked.

“All that stuff gets done way ahead of time,” Koper said. “Otherwise we get spanked.”

Koper knows what to expect. She’s been at this for 41 years. It has been her only career since she was a teen.

Her parents, Ben and Tina Koper, launched The Flying Dutchman in 1982. The business still uses the pizza oven, mixer and pans her father assembled back then. Freida sold pastries in the front of the shop at first, but transitioned to baking with her father within the first few years.

Now, Koper oversees the business and its three other employees, with help from her longtime partner Cam Hays. Ben Koper passed away 21 years ago, his body worn out, Freida said. Tina died about four years ago after decades “arguing” with breast cancer. Coming into the shop at absurdly early hours gives Koper a chance to think about her parents.

The shop’s original sign hangs above the kitchen, featuring its logo: a wooden shoe with wings and a female character that was probably inspired by her mom.

“It’s very, very emotional for me to be able to still be here, and to be able to keep doing this, and to know that they’re proud of what we’re doing here,” she said, drying her eyes. “But I miss ‘em.”

Koper said her parents came to North America from the Netherlands “with nothing” in the 1950s, landing in Anchorage after stops in Canada, Seattle and Fairbanks. Ben Koper baked in hotels and grocery stores for most of his career, dreaming of one day opening a shop of his own.

That didn’t happen until he was in his 50s, when The Flying Dutchman opened in its original location on Benson Boulevard. It’s in its third location now, on Abbott Road, where it has been for about 22 years.

Freida said her father was a dreamer, a 6-foot-4 man with a heavy Dutch accent and a large personality. But he was a better pastry chef than a bookkeeper. Koper says her father started the business using the family’s home and rental property as collateral. When Alaska faced an economic downturn in the years after the shop opened, it almost bankrupted them. Twice.

“A lot of my memories of running the bakery were survival. It’s not like this sugar-coated, rose-colored glasses love story,” she said. “It’s pure hard work.”

But even as the family struggled, her father also imparted a lesson of perspective.

“He would always say, ‘There’s always somebody worse off than you,’” she said.

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Her mother, from Rotterdam, was the reliable presence in the front of the shop. In the corner where she used to sit, there’s a painting of Tina Koper and a photo of the tulips she loved. Koper said her mom asked for three things before she passed: No obituary, no funeral and no tears. Only two demands were posthumously met.

“I have people that still come in and cry that my mom’s not here,” Koper said.

Now, Koper turns to a younger generation to keep The Flying Dutchman’s spirit alive. In fellow bakers Mercy Beier and Cheyenne Pulanco, she sees the future of the shop.

Beier walked through the back door at 6 a.m. and immediately tended to customers before returning to the kitchen to dollop cinnamon rolls with a cream cheese and buttercream combination. Though she’s only 23, she’s been working here for eight years. The bakery offered her stability during a chaotic time in her life, she said.

“They kind of took me in,” she said.

Koper said she won’t be retiring anytime soon, but the plan is for Beier and Pulanco to one day take over. “It used to be a scary thought, to have that much responsibility and how much it means to them,” Beier said. “But I am comforted by it now. It’s exciting.”

“I have security in that, that I’ll always have a place here,” she said.

As proud as she is of the bakery, Koper said keeping the business going hasn’t always been a tale of sweetness and warmth. The reality is more complicated — she feels the weight of a flat economy. Fewer people have come through the door in recent months.

“Unfortunately, like everybody, there’s a lot less disposable income,” she said.

But the tough times intensify the appreciation for the good things, she said. And there are plenty of those this holiday.

Koper said she’s grateful for the customers who have been coming since they were kids, some of whom bring their own kids now. Each made a choice to patronize a small business rather than a big box chain or an online giant.

“They might go to Fire Island, or they might come to us, but at least they’re not just going to Costco and just grabbing a sheet cake,” she said.

She’s grateful to be her own boss and have employees on whom she can depend.

“I got people around me that I like, and they like me,” she said. “It’s a small group, but it’s just nice.”

And as customers began to file steadily through the door hours before daybreak, Koper said she’s thankful for a general feeling of contentment. Later that morning, Koper planned to go home to take a nap and perhaps a long walk. She’ll be back on the Friday after Thanksgiving, early as usual, to begin planning and preparing for the Christmas season to come.

“I love my work,” she said. “We will keep going.”