A gracious one, too, because Bunde knows more than mere baking.
Take that late arrival, for instance. As it turns out, I had walked right past a large note that Bunde had tacked to the front door of the inn, welcoming me and making sure I found the right room. If she couldn't be there to greet me, she would leave the next best thing.
Such details can turn an ordinary bed-and-breakfast into a home away from home, at least for a few days. It was too rainy for hiking, biking, or much else that would require a trip outside, and the foliage was missing those fiery reds this year, but the pitter-patter of drops on the windowsill made for top-notch sleeping and decent reading. Worse things can happen than a do-nothing weekend.
Bunde helped me salvage other activities, with dinner at the top of the list. Before I had even arrived, she offered in an e-mail exchange to make a reservation at Cafe Provence, the town's delightful -- and very busy -- French restaurant. When I asked her by phone to help me find a massage therapist for my sore neck, she immediately went to work.
Hospitality seems to come naturally to Bunde, who took over the inn about a year ago after her wholesale pastry business, Sweet Endings, burned down in Watertown, and she moved to Brandon. In this six-room Queen Anne Victorian inn, Bunde whips up such bountiful morning meals that it could just as easily be called a bed-and-brunch. Indulge in everything she offers at the breakfast table, and your stomach won't growl again until dinnertime.
On Saturday morning, I chatted with a young couple and wondered aloud why the table was set when we already had plates and a seemingly full breakfast buffet awaiting us in the parlor. Then Bunde came in and explained the drill. We could graze off the buffet, which included granola with yogurt, fruit, plus homemade banana bread and bran muffins, then she would cook to order our choice of pecan-maple waffles or squash-and-tomato omelets. With sausage, of course.
In other words, two breakfasts in one.
