Sri Vijaya Puram: In the gentle hum of Sri Vijaya Puram’s mornings, tucked between routine and reverie, sits a bakery that doesn’t try too hard to be noticed. It doesn’t need to. The Yellow Ancora invites you in like a familiar song, unhurried, warm, and wrapped in the kind of calm most people didn’t know they were searching for.
Founded by Zhulifa, a name whispered with fondness among pastry lovers in the town, The Yellow Ancora was never meant to be loud. It began as a slow, persistent dream, baked quietly beneath the skies of Sri Vijaya Puram, shaped by island winds and the soft memory of Sunday drives.
“I wanted to build a space where food, design, and emotion come together, without drama, without fuss,” says Zhulfia, her voice mirroring the philosophy of her space. “Ancora means anchor in Italian. And this was always meant to be just that, a yellow anchor. Something you return to, not out of need, but peace.”
That peace shows in every corner of her bakery. In the way sunlight stretches across fresh croissants. In the way the air carries the quiet promise of cardamom and cream. In how hot chocolate lingers longer here, conversations soften, and phones stay face-down for just a bit.
Raised in Sri Vijaya Puram, Zhulfia’s world was once filled with school corridors at Navy Children School, kitchen sounds, and her mother’s recipes. “Food was how she loved us. It was never just about flavour, it was about feeling seen, feeling held,” she recalls. That early lesson now knits its way into every creation at The Yellow Ancora.
Her years in retail taught her precision. Her years of dreaming taught her patience. Backed by her father and an inner circle who believed before the world did, Zhulfia opened the doors of her little yellow dream, not with a bang, but with intent.
At the centre of her craft is a deep affection for viennoiseries, the layered, golden pastries that require time, skill, and a bit of heartache. “There’s something poetic about dough and butter,” she reflects. “Most of our pastries begin with a mood, a memory I miss or a flavour that won’t let me sleep.”
The menu is a balance between memory and mischief. The Banoffee Danish tugs at nostalgia. The sambal croissant speaks to her spice-loving soul. The Korean cream cheese croissant, a cult favourite, melts restraint. Her personal favourite? The pizza pain suisse, equal parts comfort and curiosity.
“We’re not here to reinvent. We’re here to respect what’s classic, and add our own story to it,” she says.
Behind the counter, Zhulfia moves with grace between shaping dough, replying to vendor messages from Kolkata and Chennai, planning menus, and uploading just the right photo to Instagram. Every detail matters. Every crumb, curated.
One morning, she remembers, a woman walked in, ordered a Korean cream cheese croissant and tiramisu, sat quietly by the window, and said while leaving, “I didn’t know I needed this today. Thank you.” That, Zhulfia says, was everything.
Ask her what’s next, and she smiles, not with haste, but with steady certainty. “We’re growing. Slowly. Thoughtfully. We want to stay true. To build something lasting, one beautiful step at a time.”
In a world rushing to scale, The Yellow Ancora is an invitation to slow down. To taste more than sweetness. To sit with stillness. And maybe, just maybe, to feel anchored by the smell of warm butter and a perfectly folded pastry.
📸 Instagram: @theyellowancora
