Meet the Maker | 2 Hungry Bakers
For our April edition of Meet the Maker, we’re delighted to introduce 2 Hungry Bakers, the collaborative ceramics practice of Adamina Turek and Adrian Austin. Hand-thrown in their Harrow studio, their stoneware tableware blends thoughtful design with everyday functionality, drawing on the traditions of British and Japanese studio pottery. Their work has become a firm favourite for its quiet simplicity and natural, tactile beauty. Each piece embraces imperfection and carries a sense of warmth and character, perfect for elevating daily rituals.
What drew you to becoming a crafts person and maker specialising in ceramics?
We both spent years working in the world of digital design, where the existence of your creations is often fleeting. We were drawn to ceramics and woodworking as a way to physically slow down and create something permanent. There is something incredibly grounding about working with a material as honest as clay; it requires patience, presence, and a connection to the earth that you just can't find behind a monitor. What began as a personal outlet to escape digital distractions and create something tangible with our hands naturally evolved into a dedicated practice.
What are your influences for your designs and creations?
Our work is rooted in the traditions of British and Japanese studio pottery. We are deeply inspired by the Mingei (folk art) movement, which celebrates the beauty in honest, functional objects made by hand for everyday use. Our travels through Japan and Korea have also been a huge influence, particularly in how we approach the quiet beauty of a form. We look for a balance between the organic, sometimes unpredictable textures of stoneware and the warmth and precision of hand-turned wood.
Could you describe a typical day in the studio?
Our studio is a cozy, converted space at the end of our garden in North London, split between the pottery wheel and the woodworking lathe. A typical day isn't strictly scheduled; it's usually dictated by the rhythms of the clay. We'll start with coffee and a quick chat about the day's priorities - perhaps Adamina is at the wheel throwing a new batch of bowls while Adrian is carving spoons or turning lids to match. Music is always playing, and we always break for a proper lunch - a ritual held over from our days as food bloggers.
When are you the most inspired?
Inspiration often starts with a practical need - wanting a better vessel for salt by the hob or a more ergonomic spoon - but our true aim is to move beyond mere utility. We are inspired by the idea of turning a mundane daily routine into a slow, intentional ritual. We find ourselves most creative when thinking about how an object can encourage someone to pause; how the weight of a mug or the texture of a bowl can transform a quick morning coffee into a moment to actually savour. It's about creating "functional companions" that elevate the quietest parts of the day.
What are your favourite moments within your work and practice?
There's a specific magic in the unveiling moments - opening the kiln after a firing to see how the glazes have transformed, or applying the final coat of wood balm to a hand-carved spoon and watching the grain truly come to life. But perhaps the most rewarding part is the hand-off - seeing someone pick up a piece, feel the weight and texture, and realise it's the one they want to use every single morning. That connection between maker and user is why we do this.
Is there anything you're loving recently? For example, a book, a series, a new hobby or a podcast.
This winter, we've been diving deep into the art of Japanese Urushi lacquer. We've been experimenting with applying it to our wooden spoons and lids to add a new layer of durability and depth; it's a slow, meticulous process that fits the quiet of the season perfectly. On the studio turntable, we've had Ichiko Aoba playing almost constantly. Her music has an incredible, transportive quality that really suits the flow of making. We actually went to see her perform at the Royal Albert Hall in March, which felt like the perfect way to transition from the winter months into spring.