But it is what passes for a wholesale juggernaut, at least in the hands-on world of artisan baking. And what is all the more curious is that it is not the second, but the third such bakery of French rolls in Narberth - the Town of 10,000 Croissants.
Taken together, that's the weekly output of the town better known for its dry cleaners (four at last count), lively pubs, summer-league hoops, and a display of Fourth of July fireworks far grander than you'd have reason to expect for a population of 5,000.
But the fact of the matter is that if you grab a croissant on a local college campus, or at a number of hotels, at Milkboy in Ardmore, or at a host of coffee shops or cafes in the city - Mugshots, Lore's, Java Coffee, Bonte's, Capogiro, or the two locations of La Colombe - there's a high probability it began life in an oven in Narberth.
Convergences happen. Twenty-five years ago, Larry Willig set up shop on the second floor of an addition to the former YMCA on Haverford Avenue, perfuming the main drag with the sweet scent of baked goods.
His bakery, called By the Dozen, wholesales croissants (about 4,000 a week) and challah through distributors to colleges, caterers, and hotels, though you can buy retail (by the dozen).
At the foot of the stairs - in keeping with the borough's laid-back attitude toward service - a sign advises customers to yell up to have an order brought down if they're not inclined to make the climb.
Willig's croissants are the workaday renditions of the Narberth collection, good soldiers, though without the crisp polish of those of his neighbors.
One of them is just down Haverford Avenue, across from the train station. It is Le Petit Mitron, started under a blue awning by Patrick Rurange (who left a wholesale baking operation in Opus 251 on Rittenhouse Square in the city to open this retail shop in the suburbs).
He estimates he sells 1,500 of his coveted croissants (almond, chocolate, cheese-filled or plain) each week.
