L.A.D didn’t start as a business idea.

It started because something wasn’t right.

It began in the moments nobody ever sees, the quiet nights when your head is loud, your chest is tight, and you’re trying to convince yourself that tomorrow is worth showing up for. For a long time, I didn’t know if it was.

Since the start of 2022, my life changed in ways I never expected. I faced cancer. I lost my grandad. I lost my dad. After my relationship ended I lost daily contact with my son. My mental health collapsed, and eventually I lost my job because of it. Alongside those were countless smaller moments that, on their own, might seem manageable, but together became overwhelming.

I reached a point where I genuinely didn’t want to be here anymore.

What changed things was meeting an angel who turned out to be my future wife and later walking into a room full of men I didn’t know.

Real blokes. Real stories. Real pain.

That room was a men’s mental health group called Man Down, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel alone.

That experience taught me something simple, but life-changing:

Men don’t need to be fixed.

They need to be heard.

They need something solid to hold onto. A routine, a community, a reason to turn up.

For me, that “something solid” came from an unexpected place. A flapjack.

The recipe I use today was passed down from my grandad, Ian Alder.

It’s simple. Honest. No shortcuts. Just proper ingredients and proper care. When I started baking again, it grounded me. The routine of mixing, baking, cutting and creating brought calm to a mind that felt constantly overwhelmed. Small actions, repeated daily, became a way to steady myself.

That’s when the idea for L.A.D began to take shape.

What if food could do more than just taste good?

What if it could start conversations?

What if it could help men open up?

What if it could offer the same sense of connection that helped save me?

And so L.A.D Slab was born.

L.A.D stands for Lister, Alder and Duncombe. 

Lister is my dad, who I am doing this in honour of, and whose strength and values continue to guide me.

Alder is my grandad, Ian, whose recipe sits at the heart of everything I make.

Duncombe is me, carrying their legacy forward and building something with purpose.

L.A.D isn’t just a food brand.

It isn’t just a bakery.

It’s a mission.

A mission to help reduce the suicide rate among men.

A mission to normalise talking, connection and honesty.

A mission built on the belief that something as simple as a shared slab can open the door to conversations that change, (and sometimes save), lives.

Every slab I make is rooted in what I’ve lived through.

Every flavour has meaning.

Every post, every pop-up, every conversation is a reminder that you’re not on your own.

And everyone who supports L.A.D Slab, whether by buying, sharing or simply listening, becomes part of something bigger.

This is more than a business.

This is recovery in motion.

This is legacy.

This is L.A.D.