“Indigenous families are big. Lots of aunties and uncles, and even more cousins. Every time I go back home or speak with my auntie, I learn of more family that I’ve yet to meet,” Destiny Hoostie, Bangin’ Bannock co-founder, tells me.
Destiny and her business partner––Kelsey Coutts, the other Bangin’ Bannock co-founder––reminisce about their bustling childhood family get-togethers: busy events full of people, connection, and food. Particularly bannock, a variety of grain-based quick bread, usually fried or baked. It’s a staple at Indigenous powwows, festivals, and family functions.
For Kelsey and Destiny, bannock is a source of nostalgia; a familiar symbol of home and the warm fuzzy associations that come with it––safety, comfort, community, and good times. As adults, they didn’t have an exact bannock recipe to replicate the childhood favorite in their own kitchens. “Everyone had a special way of making bannock, and the recipes were typically guesstimates,” says Kelsey. It seemed like the tradition of making bannock was being lost. Less people were cooking bannock, and a lot more didn’t know how.
Enter Bangin’ Bannock: a convenient bannock dry mix by the bag, Kelsey and Destiny’s solution to getting more people to cook the traditional staple. Just add water and oil!
More than what meets the taste buds
For the two Indigenous founders, incorporating Indigenous values into Bangin’ Bannock’s business model is a no-brainer.
“It will never be about the flour mix and the bag,” Kelsey says. Yes, the mix tastes delicious (I may or may not have eaten a whole bag of bannock in one day when I first tried it...), but Kelsey and Destiny think of it as more than a kitchen staple or revenue stream. For them, it’s “a resource to create conversation, connection, and community”—Indigenous values that trace back millennia.
Destiny vividly remembers one of her first sales: to a foster mom who purchased the product to connect her Indigenous foster kids with their roots in any way she could. Destiny dropped off the local order in person so she could have a conversation with the foster mom and connect her with local organizations where the children can learn Indigenous languages.
For Destiny, that simple act, sparked by a Bangin’ Bannock product, is a symbol of wealth. In Indigenous culture, passing on knowledge in the form of teaching, community, and resources is a type of currency––one that cannot be quantified by dollar signs and balance sheets.
“Culturally, if you lived in a village with other people and your neighbor didn’t have a blanket or fish, you’d share what you have and make sure they’re eating,” she explains.
The world could use more Indigenous business
Tracy Ridler, Indigenous Entrepreneurship Program Manager at Shopify, not only understands Kelsey and Destiny’s worldview on running a business; she advocates for it.
“How we define wealth in Indigenous culture is different from the conventional way the world defines wealth,” Tracy says. For the majority of us, wealth is synonymous with money and capital. Within the context of Indigenous culture, it’s viewed with reciprocity at the core. It’s about propping up each other with knowledge, community support, teachings, and storytelling. “Indigenous people are a collective. We thrive when we’re together,” Tracy adds.
As new entrepreneurs, it’s not lost on Kelsey and Destiny how aggressive and dominating business can be. “The current way we do business doesn’t bring people together. It’s dog-eat-dog out there. It doesn’t have to be like that,” Kelsey adds. “We don’t need to rule the world. There’s enough world out there. We can share.”
"We don’t need to rule the world. There’s enough world out there. We can share."
When I asked the duo about their future aspirations, Destiny mentioned wanting to mentor other entrepreneurs and guide them along their business journey. “Not necessarily with money, but in other ways like connection and community,” she clarifies.
Indigenizing commerce as a business principle
Strangers until February 2020, Kelsey and Destiny met at 3C Challenge, a 45-day entrepreneurship program aimed at inspiring entrepreneurship within Indigenous communities in British Columbia, Canada.
With the help of community business mentors, Kelsey and Destiny were challenged with bringing a business idea to market in 40 days––from idea generation to creating a business plan, product creation, and marketing. Though they were randomly paired for the challenge, they quickly grew a bond. They now joke that they talk to each other every day more than they do with their partners.
Aptly named, the 3 C’s in 3C stand for community, culture, and cash. What sets the program apart from other early-stage entrepreneurship incubators is its focus on Indigenizing business practices. This means not measuring wealth by the accumulation of money. It means putting shared value ahead of individualism, and existing in a reciprocal relationship with the land and its communities.
When the COVID-19 pandemic hit towards the beginning of Kelsey and Destiny’s 3C cohort, the program was looking to evolve for a more digital world. The non-profit has since partnered with Shopify to build out its ecommerce curriculum.
Shopify’s commitment to Indigenous business
For Tracy and the rest of Shopify’s Indigenous Entrepreneurship program, making commerce more accessible for Indigenous people across the world is a priority. The team does this in ways closely aligned with Indigenous values: by bringing together community and redistributing knowledge and resources. This shows up through sponsorships, building business resources, community events, and free business consultations.
Back to bannock
For National Indigenous History Month in Canada (June), Destiny and Kelsey joined us at Shopify to lead a bannock cookalong, where a group of employees learned how to cook bannock in real-time on a video call. It was admittedly my first time cooking bannock (though definitely not my last).
I couldn’t help but reflect on how that cooking experience in itself was an act of reciprocity. In its simplest form, it was Kelsey and Destiny passing on their knowledge and bringing together tens of people across Shopify for a shared community experience.
For the bannock newbies like myself, bannock is a choose your own adventure type of food. At one point, I had it with butter and jam, and later I paired it as a side with a savory chicken stew. I’m now on the hunt for bannock tacos, a modern Mexican-fusion bannock adaptation that has become a staple in the powwow trail.
After our cookalong, Kelsey, Destiny, and I sat down to talk about bannock. I wasn’t expecting our conversation to end up expanding my worldview, but oh am I am glad it did. Talking to them was as enriching as the bannock itself, and these learnings will stay with me far after my bannock stores have depleted.
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Bannock FAQ
Why is bannock culturally significant to Indigenous communities?
Bannock has held major significance for Indigenous peoples since before European contact, and that importance continues today. The history and political significance of bannock has changed over the years in North America, and it has had and continues to hold great significance to Indigenous American peoples, from pre-contact to the present. It plays an important role at restaurants and cafes owned and operated by Indigenous entrepreneurs, appearing in branding and on menus as a point of pride. For many families, cooking and sharing bannock reflects a broader value of reciprocity, pooling knowledge and resources rather than measuring worth in money alone.
What's the difference between bannock and frybread?
Frybread is bannock dough cooked in oil in a skillet, while some traditionalists reserve the term "bannock" for bread baked over an open fire without frying. Today's Native American fried bread is like bannock but cooked in a skillet, though for the purist, a bannock is not this frybread confection but rather the simple bread baked over an open fire. The fried version often becomes the base for Indian tacos, topped with chili, cheese, lettuce, and salsa. Indian tacos are another modern adaptation that has become a staple on the powwow circuit, with the fried bread sometimes topped with chili, shredded cheese, lettuce, chopped tomato, sour cream, and salsa.
How is bannock traditionally cooked, and what does it taste like?
Bannock has a mild, slightly wheaty flavor that shifts depending on how it's prepared, working as a base for both sweet and savory toppings. Its base flavor is mild, slightly wheaty, and comforting, making it a canvas for other flavors, whether sweet or savory. When fried, it becomes golden and crispy on the outside with a soft, chewy, doughy inside; when baked, it turns more crumbly and scone-like, good for soaking up stews or spreading with butter and jam.
Is bannock originally Indigenous, or was it introduced by settlers?
Bannock blends two traditions: Indigenous peoples already made flatbreads from local ingredients before contact, then adapted the wheat-flour version brought by Scottish fur traders. Before European contact, unleavened bannock was made from starches derived from ground maize, roots, bulbs, lichens, and mosses, and it's believed Scottish fur traders introduced the modern, wheat-flour version during the 18th and 19th centuries. That fusion is part of why the bread carries such layered meaning across different Indigenous nations today.
Do all Indigenous people view bannock the same way?
No, views on bannock vary widely across Indigenous communities and individuals. For some, the bread continues to serve as a means of sustenance tied to communities impoverished by settler colonial structures, while others have adopted bannock as a staple found in many Indigenous-owned restaurants, and some abstain from eating it altogether because they regard it as a byproduct of colonization. These differing perspectives show that opinions on Indigenous foodways are as varied as the people who hold them.












