Entrepreneurship with Brownies

If you’ve read Entrepreneurship with Popcorn, you might be wondering if I only talk about food. Fair. My classroom examples often involve food, music, or colored pens. Who knows — maybe one day I’ll write about what the Stray Cats and Seth Godin have in common. But that’s for another time.

Today, we’re talking about brownies. More specifically, about Dona Maria, known across town for having the best brownie recipe — and also a 68-year-old woman trying to earn a little extra money to afford her new medication. Because her retirement income just isn’t enough anymore, and everything is getting more expensive.

Once upon a time, there was Dona Maria, the kind of woman whose brownies make neighbors knock on the door as soon as the smell hits the hallway.

Dona Maria needs supplements for osteoporosis. She needs more vitamin D. And she’s been told to stop drinking so much coffee — decaf only now, which terrifies her.

Her pension, along with a small survivor benefit from her late husband, barely covers the essentials. She needs to find a way to earn extra income.

Her family lives far away, and she doesn’t want to feel like a burden.

Her son, Fernando, would definitely help if he could — but he’s buying a new apartment, juggling big loan payments, and struggling with rising school fees for João, her 4-year-old grandson. Fernando is counting coins just to visit his mom as often as he’d like.

She understands. She supports him.

Dona Maria spent her life as a homemaker.

She supported her husband’s career, raised a capable and kind son. She feels proud — but also, somehow, unfinished. Because deep down, she always had a dream.

Back when she was just “little Mariazinha,” she and her mother, Dona Odila, used to cook together.

They sold food to neighbors and to Mr. Manuel’s bakery. Mr. Manuel loved Dona Odila’s sweets — rumor has it, the two had a romance back in the 1940s, but that’s a story for another day.

What matters is: Dona Maria always dreamed of owning her own business. Her husband never supported that idea — after all, “he took care of the bills, she took care of the family.” A bit old-school, yes. But that was his stance, and he stuck to it.

Now, without him around, and with health, time, and information on her side, Dona Maria starts to wonder: why not now?

She remembers imagining an industrial kitchen, a full team, orders coming in nonstop, the sound of the bell ringing for the server to pick up another dish, the heat of the stove, the sizzle of garlic and onion in a pan.

So she makes a decision. She’s going to sell brownies.

Dona Maria, selling brownies:

She bakes three big trays. She tells the neighbors she’s taking orders, hangs a little handwritten sign on her door with pickup times and prices.

Every day, she bakes three trays. But one is always left over. She gives the extras to the neighbors. It’s enough to bring in around R$200 of profit per week. It pays for her vitamins. She’s happy.

She looks around and thinks, “This is everything I need.”

Dona Maria, the entrepreneur:

She bakes one tray. She cuts the brownies into neat squares, wraps them in leftover birthday treat bags from her grandson’s party, and gives them to her three toughest critics:

Dona Joana, who “has no filter,” says it needs more chocolate.Dona Mariquinha licks her fingers and says it’s divine.Dona Quitéria asks for an extra one for her grandson.

Could it really need more chocolate?

Dona Maria sets out on a mission. She samples 12 different brownies from local vendors. Sugar buzzing through her veins, she realizes: yes, the others do have more chocolate — although not as good as hers. To match them, she’d have to raise the price.

To justify that, she needed something extra.

So she calls Dona Mariquinha’s son, a graphic designer, and asks for help designing a new sticker. It’s simple: same bag, but with a charming little logo. Now she’s officially selling: O Brownie da Vovó.

She starts buying ingredients in bulk, negotiates a wholesale discount, and tests the new chocolate-heavy version with her three trusted tasters again.

Dona Joana, the toughest critic, loves it. She even places a large order for her grandson’s birthday.Dona Mariquinha and Dona Quitéria nod in approval. “This is divine.”

Packaging test: a hit.

Then the challenge comes. Dona Joana’s order is huge. Two days to bake, shop, pack, deliver. It’s a lot — even with help from Lucia, her housekeeper.

With the profit from that order, Dona Maria buys a new oven, new trays, and negotiates a discount at the pharmacy to pay for her vitamins upfront.

She learns how to use Instagram. Her designer grandson takes beautiful photos of her brownies. She starts recording simple kitchen tips.

Once a week, she hosts live videos where she shares stories of her childhood, of baking with Dona Odila for the neighborhood.

People love it.

After each live, she gets new orders. She offers discounts to the first ten buyers. The audience grows.

Dona Maria, owner of O Brownie da Vovó, looks around and thinks: This is a great start.

I’m sure you know a few Dona Marias out there — women who need to supplement their income and see entrepreneurship as a path forward.

This semi-fictional story is meant to show that it’s possible. That there’s room. That sometimes we already have what we need to begin — but not always the courage to go further.

Because entrepreneurship is a mindset.