Meet the Longhorn Family Behind a Disabilities-First Bakery in San Antonio

The Meyers knew their daughter Leah was destined for baking when she was just 4 years old. One night, after waking to some commotion downstairs, they found her sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, cracking eggs, and having the time of her life. When they asked her what she was doing, Leah cheerfully exclaimed, “Making cookies!” 

Leah, who was born with Down syndrome, eventually channeled that early love of baking into her dream job. Now in her 20s, she serves as the creative force behind the Mermaid Café, a gluten-free bakery and coffee shop in San Antonio that employs people with disabilities. Leah’s parents, Karen Krumrey Meyer, BS ’93, and Drew Meyer, BS ’95, co-own the café, and they each play a pivotal role in helping Leah channel her culinary talent and generous spirit into a thriving family business.  

Though supported by her parents, Leah is very much in charge. “I hired him,” she jokes about putting her dad in the manager’s seat. Drew left his previous job to run the café. “It’s hard work,” he admits, “but it’s rewarding because of who we have working here.” Karen balances her work as a speech pathologist with baking duties, often coming in after hours to make cinnamon rolls or birthday cakes.  

But the Mermaid Café is not just about the gluten-free baked goods—it’s on a mission to create meaningful employment opportunities where people with disabilities can thrive. “I am an advocate,” Leah says. “I want to change the world.”  

Leah dreamed of the café for years, drawing inspiration from baking with her family and watching her favorite food shows: Rachael Ray, Cupcake Wars, The Pioneer Woman. Tapping into her inner influencer, she began writing scripts and creating cooking content for YouTube and social media. Her parents and two siblings played the roles of producers, conducting family meetings to brainstorm content and helping with the production. The videos play on the screens at The Mermaid Café. “She’s a planner,” Drew says. “She was just waiting for mom and dad to get into gear.”  

Into gear they shifted. Leah’s parents went to work on the café: securing the perfect location, developing an entirely gluten-free menu, and building an inclusive business model. The family set a bold goal for at least 70 percent of their staff to be people with disabilities. So, when they found the perfect location—a spacious, sunlit spot on a busy stretch of Blanco Road—they designed the workspace to be sensory-friendly and accessible. The custom espresso machine removes some of the physical strain of tamping and steaming, while baking steps are broken into manageable parts. “In every job is somebody that needs a little extra help,” Drew says, “but if we set them up for success, they get confidence.”  

Another goal for the Mermaid Café: Serve an entirely gluten-free menu. Since Leah was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s thyroiditis more than a decade ago, she’s followed a gluten-free diet. When the family began planning the Mermaid Café, it was never a question that everything would be gluten-free. “Gluten is not a friend of Hashimoto’s,” Drew explains. “So we took recipes Karen had made for years and modified them to all be gluten-free.”  

Eliminating gluten from a recipe isn’t always simple, but with time—and a few flops—the family created a lineup of treats that stand up to any wheat-filled classics. The café menu includes gluten-free cinnamon rolls, cupcakes, quiches, and birthday cakes. For Leah and her family, the measure of success was clear: “We want it to be good, so that if there’s one person in your family that needs to eat gluten-free, the rest are satisfied, too,” Karen says.  

On May 5, 2025, the Mermaid Café opened its doors. Hundreds of customers lined up to choose from the bounty of gluten-free goods. The café quickly drew three noticeable groups: casual coffee drinkers, gluten-free seekers, and the special needs community.  

More than 80 percent of the staff are people with physical and or intellectual disabilities, exceeding the Meyers’ original goal. Drew says that often, customers come in with no idea about the mission of the café. “They immediately realize that we’re a different kind of place and they just get a big smile on their face,” he says.  

And for those who do come to support the mission, or to find a sense of belonging, the Mermaid Café serves as a manifestation of what’s possible. “We want you to come in for a cup of coffee, but leave with some hope,” Karen says.  

Ever the planner, Leah is already thinking about the future. She says she’d like to maybe add a stage, a foosball table, or even air hockey to the café. “She has a vision of what she wants to do and how she wants to help others,” Karen says, “and we’re just along for the ride.”  

Whatever comes next, Leah says, one thing is for sure, “Everyone has to be included.”  

CREDITS: Maria Hey; Siggi Ragnar