Crunchy Teeth bakery helping youth with autism step out of their comfort zones

SINGAPORE – For most young adults, manning a cookie stall in a mall may be a straightforward job. But for Mr Stephen Tan, 22, Mr Tan Cher Xuan, 27, and Miss Tan Qiao Juan, 23, it represents a bold step out of their comfort zones.

All three have autism, and recently staffed pop-up stalls at 313@somerset in Orchard Road in January and Northpoint City in Yishun in March.

For individuals on the autism spectrum, retail work can be daunting. Many communicate non-verbally or with limited speech, and face heightened sensory sensitivities amid stimuli such as bright lights, constant noise, moving crowds and spontaneous customer interactions. They thrive in predictable, gently paced environments, a far cry from the bustle of a typical mall.

The trio are trainees with Dignity of Work, a collaborative programme between non-profit St Andrew’s Autism Centre and social enterprise bakery Crunchy Teeth. The programme provides employment pathways for individuals with autism aged 18 and above.

Crunchy Teeth was founded in 2019 by four mothers of children on the autism spectrum.

Open employment can be challenging for individuals with moderate to severe autism due to their varied support needs. Crunchy Teeth therefore serves as a bridge between school and the workplace. It offers structured training, baking exposure and a supportive environment where trainees can build confidence, work readiness and vocational skills.

Its collaboration with St Andrew’s Autism Centre under the Dignity of Work programme began in November 2025.

For the first time, Crunchy Teeth has expanded its focus beyond baking and packing to include retail experience in bustling malls.

While the bakery has previously operated pop-up stalls, these were largely held in smaller, more contained settings such as schools and corporate offices.

Moving to a shopping centre means a different level of intensity for the trainees. The heavy footfall exposes them to a steady stream of strangers and a constantly stimulating environment.

Despite these challenges, the founders are determined to push the initiative forward. Co-founder Tan Yen Peng, who is 49 and has a 14-year-old son on the spectrum, believes that cultivating social skills in autistic individuals is an important part of preparing them for work and life in the wider community.

This new phase allows trainees to experience a more dynamic customer-facing role, strengthening their confidence, communication and work readiness.

“One of the early indicators of autism is the absence of eye contact,” says Madam Tan. “You rarely see this in other conditions like ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) or mild intellectual disability, where individuals tend to be more socially at ease. But for people with autism, meeting another person’s gaze can feel deeply intimidating.”

Navigating social gestures presents another challenge. “To most of us, a handshake is a gesture of connection, respect and relationship-building. To an autistic individual, it may not carry the same instinctive meaning. They may genuinely wonder: ‘Why do I need to shake your hand?’”

Their anxiety may also be heightened when they meet unfamiliar people or enter busy environments. Some wear headphones – not to listen to music, but to soften the noise of an overstimulating world and manage sensory overload.

Without the familiar conventional cues of eye contact or a handshake, autistic individuals may be unfairly perceived as impolite or disengaged, Madam Tan notes. “Very often, it is not a lack of manners. It is a different way of processing and navigating the world.”

Practice makes progress

Co-founder Nancy Foo says trainees at the pop-up stalls are always accompanied by a neurotypical staff member.

Because the trainees thrive on routine, preparation is vital. Days before an event, they are shown photos of the mall so they know what to expect. On the day itself, the familiar Crunchy Teeth signboard acts as a visual anchor, signalling to them: I belong here.

With patience and clear guidance, the trainees can excel. Ms Tan, for instance, was initially anxious about helping out at the mall roadshows. However, once she settled in, she successfully organised the table, arranged cookie jars by flavours and packed purchases for customers while offering a polite “thank you”.

Madam Foo, whose 31-year-old son has autism, emphasises that social skills must be taught through repetition.

“Roadshows are the best way to do that because they meet different people every time. We cannot simulate a public setting inside our baking facility.”

The facility, occupying two HDB shops in Beach Road, is a safe space for trainees.

Here, they follow a 3½-hour routine they know well. Under the Dignity of Work programme, the bakery manages 12 trainees split into morning and afternoon shifts.

On a recent Wednesday afternoon, a batch of six trainees – accompanied by job coach Preston Samuel Philip, 31, and co-founders Madam Foo and Coyuco Mildred Maude Cobankiat, both 59 – worked with quiet focus. They pinched dough, weighed it precisely and rolled it into neat balls on baking trays.

Their hard work fulfils orders for the online store, roadshows, corporate gifts and wedding favours.

When a trainee slowed down during a visit by The Straits Times, Madam Foo whispered that the presence of unfamiliar faces – the writer and photographer – was the cause. However, after a quick explanation and assurance from the coaches, the trainee was able to resume working at his usual pace.

A vision of inclusion

The founders remain steadfast in their belief that with a carefully curated environment and patient guidance, even those on the severe end of the spectrum – typically marked by a strong resistance to change and significant sensory challenges – can be trained for employment.

Madam Foo runs 90-minute sessions three times a week for this group of interns outside the main programme.

Eight years in, the work remains difficult.

“Running this is a constant balancing act,” Madam Tan says. “We are driven by a social mission, yet we must operate with the discipline of a business. Our operating costs – such as rent, ingredients, utilities and insurance – are substantial. We are fortunate to have a base of loyal customers who sustain us, though profit has never been within reach. If we end the year without a loss, we consider it enough.”

While roadshows add to overhead costs, the benefits are worth it, Madam Foo says.

Their trainees practise social skills, and the public gains awareness of autism.

Shoppers see the trainees – including one who needs regular “movement breaks” and runs around, and another who works in silence – and learn about inclusivity first-hand.

Neurotypical staff members use this opportunity to explain their work and highlight their Enabling Mark (Gold) accreditation, which recognises their commitment to best practices in hiring people with disabilities.

At its heart, the mission is to help individuals on the autism spectrum lead lives of dignity, purpose and independence.

“Inclusion means respecting them as we would any other members of society – but it does not mean they must become us,” Madam Tan says.

She offers the image of a fruit basket. “Many people believe that if we can make the apple resemble the orange, all will be well. But an apple will always be an apple. The point is to recognise that the basket is richer when it has room to hold them both.”

For Mr Tan Cher Xuan and Mr Stephen Tan, the mission is simpler but no less profound.

When asked if they enjoy working at the pop-up stalls, both respond with a cheery “yes”. Their favourite tasks: arranging cookie jars, setting up standees and packing customers’ purchases.

And most of all, they like being part of society, one “thank you” at a time.