

Bob is a lump of dough with a face. Pat him, build gentle machines that knead him on the beat, and keep him perfectly proofed while one sleepy lump grows into a five-room bakery, and finally a ten-tier cake for a very hungry king. An idle bakery that never burns anything.
Overview
Bob is a lump of dough with a face. Pat him, build gentle machines that knead him on the beat, and keep him perfectly proofed while one sleepy lump grows into a five-room bakery, and finally a ten-tier cake for a very hungry king. An idle bakery that never burns anything.
Description
Bob is a ball of sourdough with a face, a heartbeat and opinions. Pat him and he giggles. Grab him and stretch him and he springs back. Everything in this bakery exists to look after him, and he bakes crumbs for you while you do.

Wooden spoons fold along his side. Spring-loaded rolling pins roll him out on the backbeat. Whisks, ice fans, steam injectors, waffle presses and a pneumatic donut line join in, all on the same 120 BPM groove, until the kitchen is a ragtime band that plays itself.
Bob bakes fastest between 35 and 42 degrees. Ride the steam and fan dials into Golden Harmony for a huge multiplier, warm his heart with a few pats for a Cozy Rise, and watch excited yeast start heating him all by itself. He can never burn: nothing in this bakery goes wrong, it only goes slower.

A wooden table in a quiet kitchen, a copper bench, a factory floor over the whole town, a town square under flour zeppelins, and the royal palace courtyard. Every room hands you new systems, and Bob a new outfit: a polka-dot kerchief, brass goggles, a chef's toque, a crown and a royal sash.
Granny Rye writes from the seaside. A pigeon named Pip brings rush orders and, eventually, a lucky feather. The Bakers' Guild would like a word about the glowing. Discover recipes, draft chef cards from a flying hat, and build a town that smells of bread.

A Grand Bake turns your whole kitchen into a single loaf for Chef Stars, and a Royal Warrant gives the next bakery its own rules. When you are ready, stack ten tiers of cake for King Belly, each one baked in its own heat window, and watch him take one bite.

No clicking treadmill: the machines do the work, you make the decisions.
Nothing is punished. Close the game and Bob naps at room temperature, still baking.
Every purchase says what it is worth, and the crumb jar shows where your crumbs come from.
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Bob's Dough: The Absurd Bakery
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