Michael’s English Muffins has a cult following.
Take owner Annabelle Comisar’s recent trip to New York City, where an acquaintance mentioned that her best friend also lived in Raleigh and texted her to say that she was with the owner of Michael’s English Muffins. At the time, Comisar laughed, thinking chances were slim that the reference would ring any bells.
But the Raleigh connection instantly responded, gushing that she was a devotee of Michael’s and a frequent visitor to the farmers’ market to buy them.
And so it goes for Comisar and her muffins, which she’s been making since 2014. She’s overnighted muffins to Italy for a fan’s mom, sends quarterly shipments to a fan in Florida, and during the holidays has to restock her muffins multiple times a week at Ladyfingers because they’re so popular.
Originally from Ohio, Comisar grew up in the restaurant industry. Her father—who is named Michael—owned the Maisonette, a much-lauded French restaurant in Cincinnati. It was there, Comisar says, that her attention to detail and fixation on quality began. In her late twenties, Comisar learned to make English muffins from scratch while working in a local artisan bakery. The following year, she moved to Raleigh to work as a wine distributor. Her muffins soon followed.
“I started making muffins off the balcony of my apartment complex with a griddle,” she says of her first foray into the business. “I would take them to chefs and they would say, ‘If you had a certified kitchen I would totally buy them.’”
She didn’t have one, but a friend offered her his—with a catch. “He said I could use his kitchen when his staff wasn’t there,” Comisar says. “So from 11 p.m. to 9 a.m.”
In 2015, Comisar officially launched Michael’s English Muffins, the name a nod to her father’s hospitality prowess. At first, Comisar sold the muffins at local farmers’ markets while trying to grow her wholesale business. In 2018, she found a retail location on Capital Boulevard in North Raleigh.
“People thought I was crazy,” she says of the spot’s location. “It’s off the beaten path.” Her retail spot sells muffins, of course, but also a mix of sandwiches, such as the It’s a Gouda Day sandwich with gouda cheese, pimento, bacon spread, and “more bacon.”
She forged ahead, adamant that she could make it work and that she’d finance it all herself.
“It was all sweat equity,” she says. “I didn’t want to owe anyone any money.”
Since then, the muffins have made their way into over 50 restaurants, cafés, and other retail locations, mostly around the Triangle. In December, Comisar announced that eight local Food Lions will also carry her muffins.
So what makes these English muffins, which retail for $9.50–$10.50 per four-pack, worthy of a cult following? The answer, Comisar says, is fairly simple.
“Time,” she says. “And our process.” Dough is fermented overnight, often up to 24 hours before it’s rolled out, proofed, cooked on a griddle, and finally cooled before being packaged.
The result? A perfectly chewy, pillowy muffin that’s thick enough to get nice and toasted on the outside while staying soft on the inside. You may never want to eat a standard grocery store version again after trying one.
“No one else makes [English muffins] from scratch here,” Comisar says. This—considering the Triangle’s diverse range of doughnut options or the fact that you can just about throw a rock and hit a biscuit spot in the South—makes her business stand out.
The original flavor is Comisar’s best seller, but she’s partial to the sweet potato cinnamon version. Her other flavors right now are everything, fruit, and rosemary and olive oil, but Comisar says she’d love to add new flavors like fennel in the future.
While Comisar is excited about the business’s growth and recent foray into her first big-box retailer, quality is still her North Star. “I don’t ever want to break the tipping point,” she says, adding that if Michael’s English Muffins gets big, her team will continue to use the same attention to detail for every muffin they make.
As for what she thinks about the local loyalty to her muffins?
“People tell me there’s a cult,” she laughs. “But I think the community in the South and in Raleigh is just very supportive of local products.”
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