Harvard Grad Concocts Cookie Business in Shanghai

In the fall of 2010 in a tiny kitchen in Shanghai, Alexandra A. Comstock ’10 concocted a batch of chocolate chip cookies. Although she baked them to satisfy a personal craving, the batch marked the launch of an unexpected business enterprise in the blossoming market for home-baked goods in China.

Selling old-time favorites like classic chocolate chip, sweet sugar, and hearty oatmeal raisin cookies, Comstock has built a loyal customer base of Chinese natives and foreigners alike.

Her company, Strictly Cookies, might evoke memories of homemade baked goods for many Americans, but it is a novel business venture in Shanghai.

In August 2010, Comstock landed in Shanghai, where she had lined up a job in marketing. At the time, cookies were the last thing on her mind, she says. Two months into her stay, the absence of quality cookies from the shelves of Chinese stores left Comstock with an empty stomach and a sweet tooth.

According to Comstock, the traditional Chinese mooncake is the dessert that bears the closest resemblance to cookies in China.

“I couldn’t find a cookie that I was excited about, basically,” Comstock says.

Her hankering for home-style cookies led her to start whipping up batches in her apartment to distribute to friends and bring to parties.

“I started doing some research. China has thin, crisp, somewhat flavorless biscuits, but I couldn’t find hearty cookies. That’s when I thought maybe this idea has legs.”

Initially, Strictly Cookies was run out of Comstock’s apartment. Her business was a one-woman show, with Comstock taking orders, baking cookies, and running deliveries.

“She started by almost going door-to-door and asking people, ‘Do you want to try my product,’” says friend Charlotte B. Winthrop ’08. “She built Cookies at the grassroots level.”

Soon after, Comstock quit her job and devoted herself full-time to filling the cookie void in the Chinese market.

An East Asian Studies concentrator at Harvard, Comstock used her passion for China to define her academic path in college. Now, she devotes her time to delivering the highest quality cookies to an international set of customers and to running her burgeoning business abroad.

CHINA CALLING

Raised in suburban Connecticut, Comstock has no apparent connections to China. But in overcoming the challenges of establishing a business, Comstock says that the country has become her home.

Comstock first become enamored with China when she traveled there for the first time with her parents as a child. Since then, “it’s always been China,” she says.

Comstock spent every summer while she was at Harvard in China, immersing herself in the country’s culture through her participation in the Harvard-Beijing Exchange and her work at the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympics.

“That was always Lexie’s academic persona: her passion for China,” says friend Caroline M. Vik ’10.

After graduating from Harvard, Comstock set her sights on Beijing. But job constraints led her to Shanghai, a city that she has grown to love, she says.

“They always say ‘Beijing has lots of culture and...Shanghai is really soulless—you don’t really get a feeling for China by living in Shanghai,’” Comstock says. “But I think it’s a very livable city.”

The population is very westernized and has a sizable expatriate segment—providing a ready market for cookie consumption, she says.

Shanghai is ranked fifth out of 34 Chinese cities in ease of starting a business, according to the World Bank.

“There are many more opportunities in China and a lot more risk,” says Nara Dillon, a lecturer in the East Asian Languages and Civilizations department. “Many businesses fail there. The market is very uneven—some times things fail and other times do well.”

Clifford N. Murray ’10, who took classes with Comstock in East Asian studies, says that he believes Comstock’s ability to take advantage of China’s emerging markets contributes to her success.

“In the U.S., foodie culture has evolved over the last decade, with the popularity of farmers’ markets and specialization in foods, like preserves and specialty salad dressings,” Murray says. “China is not food-obsessed in the same way. Lexie is entering a burgeoning market.”

Dillon says that even though cookies are “something that [seems] so American and foreign,” Comstock’s early success proves that there is a high demand for cookies in China.

GETTING DOWN TO BUSINESS

Comstock starts each morning bright and early at 6 a.m. She checks business emails at the breakfast table, responds to custom orders from clients, and markets Strictly Cookies through social media outlets like Facebook and Twitter.

She then pops over to the headquarters of her operation—the kitchen—to check in with her baker. Comstock rents and shares the kitchen with a sandwich company.

Vik, who visited Comstock last fall, says that Comstock’s two primary employees—a baker and delivery man—have become her “Chinese family.”

The three are “always all working, packaging things up, and joking in Chinese,” Vik says.

Comstock says she has become comfortable handling the unpredictable obstacles that arise on a daily basis in China.

During the course of an interview for this article, Comstock answered a knock on her apartment door from her water provider, who demanded that she pay for a broken water jug. Comstock argued her case and convinced him to continue his rounds in effortless Chinese before resuming the interview.

During the day, Comstock divides her time between the kitchen and her shop, which is called Pantry and is located a ten minute walk away. Aside from Comstock’s popular cookies, the shop boasts a variety of jams, bagels, cupcakes, and sandwiches, sold by four other women who also run gourmet food businesses.

Pantry operates as a cooperative business, according to Comstock. The business owners split the rent and are required to reach a benchmark for sales before they can receive a portion of the profits.

Because of the shop’s proximity to her kitchen, Comstock often finds herself running back and forth between the two locations in an effort to keep tabs on both sides of the business.

“I’m constantly able to go in [to Pantry],” Comstock says. “I talk to the girl who runs the shop and get feedback from customers. Sometimes I’ll stay in the shop for hours, just meeting customers.”

Comstock says that she sometimes receives odd cookie orders.

A customer once requested 21 cookies—three of each of the seven varieties—for him and his girlfriend to sample at piping-hot temperatures.

Comstock had her baker run over from the kitchen with a tray of hot cookies.

“They’re honestly just being like weirdos, and I love it,” she says.

When Comstock first started, news of her cookies spread only by word-of-mouth. Since then, she has launched a website, and her business has been written up in the Wall Street Journal, City Weekend, and Shanghai Talk.

FROM CAMBRIDGE TO CHINA

Comstock says the planning skills that she learned at Harvard did not prepare her for the twists and turns involved in running a small business in a foreign country.

When she was a student, she counted on schedules and routines to manage her time efficiently. “Having this company has totally changed all that,” she says. “It’s good because it’s important to be able to roll with the punches, but it’s a totally different lifestyle.”

Comstock was also not an avid baker during her time at Harvard, according to friends. Back in the day, she found HUDS cookies a simple pleasure.

“Applause to the HUDS staff, because those are awesome cookies,” she says.

Though she has spent a considerable amount of time in China over the years, Comstock says she still occasionally experiences culture clash, often brought on by the nuanced complications of operating a company.

“The biggest thing I hate,” Comstock says, “is this phrase in Chinese, ‘mei ban fa,’ which means ‘no solutions; no way of doing it.’ I’m the sort of person who thinks there is always a solution, and that if there’s a problem, you can always find a way to get it done.”

When it comes to customer service issues, this phrase is “the most annoying thing to hear,” she says.

Cultural differences between the U.S. and China are also often pronounced in day-to-day interactions.

When she travels by bus or subway, Comstock says she often finds herself uncomfortably close to her neighbors.

“You’re like, ‘What is this thing on me?’ And it’s a human,” she says with a laugh. “They’re appalled you won’t be their leaning post.”

Despite the occasional frustrations, Comstock has fully embraced the challenges of living abroad, and her cookies have attracted a devoted following.

From across the globe, Comstock’s friends from home are cheering her on.

Winthrop says that she first perceived Strictly Cookies as a “whimsical idea,” but that, in taking an unconventional approach, Comstock has “gone about building her business in a thoughtful and intelligent way.”

“We’re all living vicariously through her,” says Vik. “She’s starting a business in China, living out everyone’s dream.”

—Staff writer Sabrina A. Mohamed can be reached at smohamed@college.harvard.edu.