Ardith's Last Beeswax Bread Bags

The Craftsman’s Review
Stories From America’s Workshops, Kitchens & Front Porches
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“Plastic makes bread sweat. Beeswax lets it breathe.” — Why a 73-year-old Wisconsin beekeeper hasn’t put a loaf in plastic for 43 years, and is now selling her last beeswax bread bags at a special price.

A fresh sourdough loaf in the Honey Bee beeswax bread bag on a sunny kitchen counter
Cotton on the outside, beeswax on the inside. No plastic anywhere near the bread.

Pick up any loaf at the grocery store and look at what it comes in. Plastic. At home it goes into another plastic bag, or a plastic box. Most bread in America spends its whole life wrapped in plastic, from the bakery shelf to the last slice.

Two days later, the inside of the bag is damp. The crust has gone soft and chewy. By day four, there is often a green spot in the corner.

There is an older, simpler way to keep bread. It uses no plastic at all. And a growing number of home bakers say their bread has never tasted better.

Why your bread goes moldy in a plastic bag

A sliced loaf in a plastic bread bag with condensation on the inside
Fresh bread still gives off moisture. In plastic, it has nowhere to go.

Fresh bread is still letting out moisture. In a plastic bag, that moisture cannot get out. It collects on the inside of the bag and soaks back into the crust.

That is why the crust turns soft. And warm, damp air is exactly what mold likes best.

The opposite is not much better. Leave bread out in the open or in a paper bag, and it is dry and hard by the next morning.

“Bread has to breathe. Plastic makes it sweat. My mother told me that in 1958, and she was right.”

The plastic pressed against your bread every single day

Infographic: the life of a plastic bread bag, from oil and gas to a factory, the bread aisle, five days in a kitchen, and finally tiny pieces in a field
From the oil field to the field’s edge: a few days of use, and then it stays.

Most people never think about it. But almost every slice of bread you buy has spent days pressed against plastic. Most bread bags are made of a plastic called polyethylene.

Bread is often still warm when it goes into the bag, and it stays damp inside. Scientists say heat and moisture make it easier for tiny pieces of plastic, and some of the chemicals in it, to move from packaging into food.

These tiny pieces are called microplastics. Many of them are far too small to see. You cannot wash them off a slice of bread. You eat them.

What scientists are now finding inside the human body

A grandmother buttering a slice of bread for her little granddaughter at a sunny kitchen table
The bread on the breakfast table is the food families eat most often.

For years, microplastics were something people worried about in the ocean. Now researchers keep finding them somewhere much closer.

  • In the blood (2022): Scientists in the Netherlands tested the blood of 22 healthy adults. In 17 of them, they found tiny bits of plastic.
  • In the arteries (2024): In a study published in the New England Journal of Medicine, doctors found tiny pieces of plastic in the artery walls of more than half of the patients they examined.
  • In the brain (2025): Researchers in New Mexico found more plastic in brain samples from 2024 than in samples from 2016. The most common kind was polyethylene, the same plastic most bread bags are made of.

Scientists say much more research is needed, and nobody can yet say what all this plastic means for us.

But many families are not waiting for the answer. They are starting where it is easiest: with the food they eat every single day.

“I don’t know what the scientists will find out in twenty years. I just know I don’t want plastic anywhere near the bread my grandchildren eat.”

100 billion bags a year, and most are used only once

A kitchen trash can full of used plastic bread bags
One bread bag a week adds up to more than 50 a year, in one kitchen alone.

Then there is the waste. Americans use about 100 billion plastic bags every year. Most are used once and thrown away. Many end up in landfills and rivers, where they can take hundreds of years to break down.

So more and more people are asking a simple question. Why should plastic touch the bread you eat every day, if it doesn’t have to?

The 200-year-old answer: beeswax

Infographic: the cotton bread bag with its snap-buckle handle next to the pull-out beeswax liner with its sealing zipper
Two parts, no plastic film: the cotton bag and the beeswax liner that sits inside it.

Before plastic bags existed, farm kitchens wrapped their bread in cloth dipped in warm beeswax. Beeswax keeps the moisture in the bread but still lets a little air through. The bread does not dry out, and it does not sweat.

The beeswax bread bag is built on that old idea. Outside is a cotton bag with a snap-buckle handle. Inside sits a cotton liner dipped in beeswax, with a zipper on top. The bread goes into the liner. No plastic film, no plastic coating.

Four small details that make a big difference

Hands pulling the beeswax liner out of the Chicory Blue bread bag
The beeswax liner pulls right out, so the bag stays clean for years.
  • “The Breathing Liner”: Beeswax holds the moisture in but lets the bread breathe. No sweating, no soggy crust.
  • “The Pull-Out Liner”: Pull it out, wipe it with cool water, let it dry. Done.
  • “The Roll-and-Buckle Top”: Zip it, roll it down, click the buckle. The buckle doubles as a handle.
  • “The Whole-Loaf Size”: 17 by 13 inches. A big sourdough, two baguettes or a dozen bagels. It goes in the freezer, too.

Three patterns, each with its own story

The three patterns side by side: Honey Bee, Daisy Meadow and Chicory Blue
From left: The Honey Bee, The Daisy Meadow and The Chicory Blue. Each one is sold on its own.
  • The Honey Bee: Cream cotton with one big bee, drawn by a six-year-old girl.
  • The Daisy Meadow: Yellow with the white daisies of the meadow where the bees live.
  • The Chicory Blue: Yellow with the blue wildflower the bees visit every July.

All three lead back to one woman, who has not kept a loaf in plastic since 1983.

The beekeeper who threw out the plastic in 1983

Ardith Sundquist dipping a liner into melted beeswax, sewing a bread bag and cutting the bee-printed cotton in her milk house
Ardith Sundquist, 73, in her old milk house: dipping a liner in her own beeswax, sewing, cutting the next bag.

Ardith Sundquist is 73 and has kept bees on her farm outside Viroqua, Wisconsin, for 44 years. In the winter of 1983, eleven pounds of wax were left over from her first honey harvest. Her mother showed her an old trick from the family farm in Norway: dip a cloth in warm wax and wrap the bread in it.

Ardith sewed a cotton bag around that idea. The plastic bread bags went in the trash that week. They never came back.

Since then she has made every bag herself, in the old milk house next to the barn. She cuts and sews the cotton, then pulls each liner twice through wax from her own hives. One bag takes her about three hours.

“My sourdough is still good on Thursday. In plastic, it was moldy by Tuesday. That was all the proof I ever needed.”

The October morning the wax pot slipped

Ardith’s hands resting beside her last finished bread bags in the old milk house
The last finished bags in the old milk house. There will not be any more.

For a few years now, arthritis has been in both of Ardith’s hands. Last October, the wax pot slipped out of them. Nobody was hurt. But Ardith knew that morning that she had dipped her last liner.

“My hands can still knead the dough. They just won’t do hot wax anymore.”

The last bags she finished are stacked on the shelf. There are 51 of them, 17 of each pattern. When they are gone, there will not be any more.

“I want them in kitchens, not on a store shelf”

A bakery in Madison heard that Ardith was stopping. The owner offered to buy all 51 bags and sell them in the shop for $45 each.

Ardith said no. She set her own price low, just above what the cotton and wax cost her. She could ask much more, and anyone would understand. She won’t.

“Every one of these bags means a few hundred plastic bags that never get used. That matters more to me than the money.”

Her granddaughter Elsie, the one who drew the bee when she was six, set up the little online shop for her. Ardith still folds every bag herself.

While supplies last: Ardith’s last 51 beeswax bread bags, 17 of each pattern, at her closing price.

See the Last Bags

Check availability →

What home bakers say after the switch

  • ★★★★★

    “I bake one sourdough a week and always lost the last third to mold. Not since this bag. The crust stays crisp and the inside stays soft until it’s gone.”

    Margaret H., Ann Arbor, MI
  • ★★★★★

    “I’m trying to get plastic out of our kitchen bit by bit. This was the easiest swap so far. No more bread bags in the trash every week.”

    Teresa V., Boulder, CO
  • ★★★★★

    “Bought the daisy one for myself and the bee one for my daughter. She keeps her bagels in it. It smells faintly of honey when you open it.”

    Linda R., Dubuque, IA

Three questions people ask before ordering

Where can I buy Ardith’s bread bags?

Only through this page. Ardith’s beeswax bread bags are not sold on Amazon, Temu or in any store.

How long will they be available?

Only while supplies last. Ardith can no longer make new bags. There are 17 left of each pattern, and once they are gone, there will not be any more.

What if it’s not right for me?

You have 30 days to try it in your own kitchen. If you are not happy, just send a short email and you will get your money back. No questions, no hassle.

No plastic on your bread, and fresh bread for days. Ardith’s last 51 bags can keep your loaves the way her mother did — for years to come.

Check Availability

Limited stock — only 17 left of each pattern