Buns that bare all, and eclairs exposed to air: in Australia, a new wave of pastry shops are doing more than baking and selling their creations – they’re displaying them, in single units, completely uncovered. You’ll find them on counters, risers, concrete slabs, shiny surfaces, and mini podiums, minus glass or Perspex barriers, like mini art exhibits. This is pastries en plein air.
But if the cardinal rule of art galleries is “do not touch the exhibits”, for baked goods, it’s “don’t eat them either”.
At Tokyo Lamington in Carlton, Melbourne, the open-air lamingtons are fashioned from Styrofoam, double-coated in real chocolate, and placed on a tiered display at the front counter – yet customers have been known to take a bite out of them. “People are pretty feral sometimes,” says co-owner Eddie Stewart.
At Cafe Lewi in Sydney’s inner west, several sweet and savoury pastries line the counter. A vintage buttercream cake, their most elaborately decorated specimen, also occupies the most vulnerable position on the corner. “If you lean over [in] a batwing T-shirt … people’s T-shirts go into it,” says chef and co-owner Isabella Leva Laureti. She touches-up any smudged frosting mid-service and display pastries are disposed at the end of the day.
At Pantry Story in Sydney, more than a dozen pastries are laid out around the perimeter of a round table, in the centre of the shop: a honey butter croissant, a pandan mochi cookie, a beef rendang pie, all labelled with their names and prices. Customers circle the table, then place their order at the counter where staff fetch fresh, non-display pastries from a nearby cabinet.
For co-owner Hari Wibowo, the idea for the display came from Chinese New Year banquets, when the family would gather around a table. “ I wanted it to remind people of togetherness.”
Plus it’s good marketing, says co-owner Mutiara Sucipto. “Some people even say … You haven’t been to Pantry Story if you haven’t taken a picture of the circle table.”
But why all the bared buns? There’s a minimalist appeal to seeing pastries “up close and personal,” says Leva Laureti.
“Nothing’s going to go soggy because it’s in an ambient cabinet – if it needs to be refrigerated it can be.” Also: “Aesthetics.”
The owners of Cafe Lewi, Pantry Story and Melbourne’s Bakemono all cite Lune Croissanterie as the progenitor of open-air displays in Australia. At Lune’s flagship warehouse space in Melbourne’s Fitzroy, which opened in 2015, flaky, full-frontal specimens are lined up on a concrete counter, and this croissant exhibitionism is repeated at its eight other stores.
At Pantry Story, the odd customer has mistakenly picked up a display pastry, taken it to the counter, and said “I want this one”. Or when staff place a “sold out” sign on a sausage roll, some determined customers offer to buy the display pastry that has been sitting in the open, all day, at room temperature (Pantry Story staff politely decline).
Tokyo Lamington staff make new Styrofoam display lamingtons every month. At Pantry Story, most exhibits are refreshed twice a day. However, to avoid food waste, Wibowo has been experimenting with preserving the croissants and pandan buns in a double-coat of resin, which also adds a glossy finish. Provided the pastry is dry and completely cooled before it’s coated, the pain aux resins can last more than a year without spoiling. Wibowo’s failed resin experiments have included the kimchi focaccia (“too wet”) and anything with meat.
When Martha’s in Sydney opened in late 2025, the front counter featured uncovered batches of cinnamon scrolls and za’atar knots, inspired by mid-century European pastry shop displays. “For people who have travelled abroad and have gone to France and Italy … [the display] was a breath of fresh air, quite literally,” says owner Paris Nassif.
But business was brisker than she anticipated. Customers would crowd the counter, and, nervous about food safety, Nassif soon after ordered clear acrylic boxes to cover them. “It gives the same effect but we don’t have concerns with hygiene,” she says.
For some, birthday cakes in their birthday suits might be too provocative. For others, the proof is in the pudding. One colleague – a pastry enthusiast who travels between Melbourne and Sydney – tells me: “In the end if the pastry is good, they could be on the floor and I wouldn’t blink an eye.”
