All done out of sight of the people who will eventually take those loaves off store shelves and home to eat.
With no real idea what they are putting into their bodies, including a hefty list of additives in some cases, Wilkinson said.
''Who really wants to eat that?'' a baker asks a shopper in a company promotional video. ''I didn't think so,'' he adds, tossing the loaf behind him.
In contrast, the 4,200-pound Bread Bakery will be in full view of customers. Measuring 4 feet wide, 10 feet long and 7 feet high, the machine will be plunked into a store's retail space to become part of the shopping experience. Flat-panel TV screens at the top will provide product information and some entertainment in infomercial format.
From the minute an integrated computer system tells the hopper how much bread mix and water to dump into a measuring vessel, which then empties into a mixing cylinder and a blade begins turning, the show is on.
Having the entire process visible to consumers is going to do certain things, Wilkinson believes. As high-tech as the bakery is, designers have added touches — the warmth of copper, old-style handles — to impart a sense of comfort, an emotional selling point.
People need to reconnect with their food, he said. Kids who watch their bread being made are going to ultimately understand more about where food comes from.
Once mixed, in six to eight minutes, the dough drops onto a conveyor belt that ferries it under another belt moving at a different speed, which rolls and kneads the ball into a log shape, all in a matter of 15 seconds or so.
That dough will fall off the end of the belt into a loaf pan, then begin the proofing process.
That takes place at about 120 degrees and is positioned just below the baking area heated to 425 degrees, with no partition between the two. His engineers worked hard to achieve that feat with proper airflow, Wilkinson said.
The proofed loaf is conveyed to the top of the oven, still in view behind tempered glass, to bake. Inched along in the heated section, the final product is gently clutched by a robotic hand to be placed on a cooling rack.
Even that bears a designer touch. Loaf-sized racks are made from stainless-steel letters, done in the company logo. The stacking and display case is still a prototype, with glass doors that open wide. The final design will feature a way to allow customers to handle only their own purchases, Wilkinson said.
Before the machine goes to production, a slicer will be built in, safe enough to allow customers to insert a loaf and close the compartment door before the blades activate.
An expandable glass enclosure surrounding the whole shebang keeps humans away from the bread and danger away from humans, but detracts nothing from the view, he added.
Or the aroma wafting through and bringing folks to the show, Wilkinson said.
From start to finish, each loaf takes about two hours. Once the bakery is cranked up for the day, it can send out as many as 40 loaves per hour if the computer tells it to.
That's another business-friendly feature, he noted. At maximum output, a Bread Bakery can manufacture 400 loaves in 10 hours, although the machine can run around the clock, being out of production only for half-hour cleaning stints.
However, system software can be programmed to suit customer demand in individual stores. If one grocery sells more bread between 2 p.m. and 6 p.m., the computer will increase production to match. In slower times, the machine may fill only every other pan, which keeps things moving along at the same pace but doesn't bake bread that won't sell.
Stores will set their own prices for the loaves (each loaf will cost about 35 cents to make), but no Wilkinson bread can be sold past the day it's made. Not only is it preservative free, but doing so would violate the contract with the company. Baking machines will be leased, not sold, to grocery stores (and serviced monthly by Wilkinson employees) and the mix bought only through the company.
That allows control, ensuring a high-quality, ''really fresh'' product, Wilkinson said.
Much of the company's profit will come from selling the mix, Wilkinson said. ''Like a printer. The machine costs little, the money is in the ink refills.''
Wilkinson believes his product will appeal to baby boomers, he said.
''Boomers are demanding freshness. That's hard for stores now. Labor is an issue.''
Most grocery chains buy bread from large commercial operations, which means less-fresh product to begin with, and more of an effect on the environment than in-store operations, he said.
It's a point particularly important to him, and why he's excited about his ''green'' product, he said. One truckload of Wilkinson baking mix would equal six trucks of pre-made bread, using six times the fuel and emitting six times the pollution.
Thirty-three patent claims in North America and Europe protect the innovation.
What Wilkinson Baking will launch publicly in the next year has been cooking for a long time. Wilkinson bought the concept and a very rudimentary prototype from its creator, Dick Carlson. Carlson, an engineer with Boeing, began developing the idea after his son was killed in high school, Wilkinson said.
The boy worked at a bakery at the time, rising at 3 a.m. to get to work and mix dough.
''He told his dad it seemed like that could be done by machine,'' to offer humans a little more sleep, Wilkinson said.
When the teen died in his father's arms after being struck by a car in front of the Carlson home, that wish became a way to honor his life. Carlson worked on it for 17 years, proving the concept but reaching a point he could go no further. He offered it for sale in 1994.
Wilkinson was eager to buy it from Carlson, who has since died.
But getting the first machine — built with sheet metal, household insulation, a bike chain and a roll or two of duct tape — to today's model was a 14-year journey, five of which the project was mothballed. ''I was busy and I didn't understand the process. I needed to decide what to do with it.'' Wilkinson has had a long career as an entrepreneur and is comfortable with waiting. Better to be patient than force something before its time, he feels.
Things were at a standstill three years ago when he attended an alumni meeting at Walla Walla College, now Walla Walla University. He encountered former classmate Herb Larson, an engineer interested in what was in Wilkinson's garage.
Larson offered to look at the concept with one caveat, Wilkinson recalled. ''He wanted to be able to control the aesthetics, to make it artistic.''
In less than a day, Larson had radically changed the look of the bakery, on paper at least. Wilkinson was stunned at Larson's design.
''This is what he gave us,'' Wilkinson said, his hand gesturing toward the gleaming apparatus.
Larson's artistry and the work of in-house engineers, Jon Ostojic and Jesse Knight, began reaping what was sown at the International Baking Industry Exposition in Florida earlier this month.
The trade show covers every new aspect and gadget in commercial baking one could imagine, Wilkinson said. ''We were told repeatedly, 'This is the most innovating thing ever seen at this show.'''
One of the highest compliments paid was when observers speculated the Bread Bakery had been built in Germany or Italy, Ostojic said.
''Or Walla Walla,'' chimed in Knight in a droll tone. ''Italians at the trade show said, 'Your design, it is very beautiful.'''
They couldn't ask for higher praise, the engineers explained. ''Those guys care about that.''
''A buyer called it the Mona Lisa of all baking equipment,'' Wilkinson added.
The bakery's technology was equally lauded. Experts could see right away Wilkinson was not from the industry, he said with a grin. ''They told me, 'If you were from the industry, you would know this can't be done.'''
''Impossible'' was replaced by ''revolutionary'' in the week at the exposition, he noted.
If Wilkinson entertained any hesitation about acceptance of the machine, that melted away like butter on a warm slice of bread. Representatives of large grocery chains, including several from Europe, are calling and campaigning to get the bakery into their stores, he said.
When the Bread Bakery is ready for final roll-out, Wilkinson plans to contract out to other companies for some of the machining, but will keep the company's administrative presence and a projected 100 employees in Walla Walla, he said.
Wilkinson, along with his five siblings, have sunk plenty of dough into making the Bread Bakery viable. Beyond the finances, having the support of his siblings, wife and three children has been invaluable, he said.
Making clean and ''green'' bread appealed to all of them. Too, the product feeds a sustainable market — bread is a constant for most families, he added.
Wilkinson has no fears about public acceptance of the concept of buying bread much the same way they buy Starbucks coffee, he said. ''I think what we have is a machine that's taken a very complex process and taken it to its simplest form.
''It does provide the freshest bread they can buy.''