Just like my momma before me, I was hatched in an old straw hat on the back porch of a little café in Conway Arkansas just off the interstate, just north of Little Rock. My momma had a heart as wide as the highway. Even if it meant she’d do without, she never turned a hungry soul away from her door. Times were tough, but never as tough as momma.

And if you’re wonderin’ about poppa, well that makes at least two of us, hon. Guess it’s true what they say about musicians bein’ flighty sorts. All momma ever said about the old cock was that he was lead vocalist in a band of songbirds that roosted in town overnight on the fall migration tour. The band stopped in at the café before flying off, one thing led to another, and I was on my way. Judging by what I see in the mirror, if nothing else, he must have been one heck of a looker.

When all was said and done, it was probably best poppa wasn’t the stickin’ around type. I just don’t think momma would’ve been interested in hearin’ about how to run the café from some pretty boy who thought havin’ a fancy set of tail feathers meant he had a head for business.

Momma and I had a wonderful life together at the café. She was wise and playful, but one serious cook. She taught me that wholesome food, made with quality ingredients, kept the

café full and the customers happy. She taught me to cook with love and to take pride in what we served.

One beautiful fall day, just after my own little ones had finally flown the nest, momma flew into the café with some big news. “Sweetie, I’ve lived through my last hard winter. I’m headin’ down to Boca Raton to join my sisters and the rest of the old birds.” She took her apron with the fancy embroidered lettering off the hook and slipped it over my head. “It’s time folks started to call you Momma Bird.”

I’ve hatched a few more clutches of eggs since then, and I’ve molted more feathers then I care to admit, but folks are still callin’ me Momma Bird. And folks are still flyin’ in from all corners of creation to taste what’s cookin’ at the café.

Things have changed a little bit since my own momma ran the place. Now with the net bringin’ everything to the door in too clucks, I’ve been able to share her Original Birdie Bread recipe with a new generation of friends. So now-a-days if you hear some pathetic bird named Polly who is still asking for a cracker, you know that the poor creature has never had a taste of Momma’s Birdie Bread. Do what your heart tells you, hon. Bake that bird a loaf and give her little taste of glory.

And if being able to share my divine Birdie Bread weren’t miracle enough, what the kids call “e-commerce” has also given an old-fashioned bird access to a world of delicious and exotic seeds, nuts and fruits that have inspired five new recipes. Now I’m mixin’ up got five flavors of Birdie Bread that have got birds from Malibu to Memphis squalkin’ for more.

Whether you fancy my Original, Caribbean, Fiesta, Wing Dynasty, Harvest or Song Bird recipe, Momma’s Birdie Breads are all good eatin’ and good for you. Each one is a nutritionally sound snack to make sure you’re getting everything you need to keep your beak in peak condition. If you haven’t baked up a loaf today, what’s stoppin’ you? Now don’t just sit there looking pretty – start bakin’!!!

Momma Bird’s Café is actually owned and operated by Diane and Gigi two slightly wacky, yet deeply serious chics who had a dream of bringing convenient nutritionally balanced fancy food to their feathered friends all across the country. They formed a company called Better Beaks, Inc. to see where their dream would take them. In no time they found themselves hatching a sassy little lady called Momma Bird who showed them a thing or two about bird bread.