When Social Media Becomes a Wall: The Toufayan Bakery Example

Spend five minutes scrolling through a brand’s social media and you’ll get the idea: shiny product photos, cheerful promotions, hashtags sprinkled like sugar on top. The message is simple — “we’re here, we’re engaged, we care.” But what happens when you actually try to talk back?

For the past month, I’ve been testing that with Toufayan Bakery. I’ve asked basic questions — about why gluten-free wraps have vanished, about why their store displays look increasingly disorganized — and I’ve been met with a mix of silence, scripted empathy, and polite hand-offs. The experience has revealed something larger than one bakery brand’s missteps. It shows how social media, once hailed as the great bridge between companies and their customers, is too often used as a wall.

I started with a simple observation: every store near me on the Upper West Side had stopped stocking Toufayan gluten-free wraps. Broadway Farm — nothing. Zabars — empty. Gristedes and West Side Market — also barren shelves. Toufayan’s own website map insisted they were available, but reality told another story. So I asked on Facebook: what’s going on?

The response came quickly, and it read as if it were written to reassure. “Hi Steve, thank you again for sharing all of this with us. I completely understand how frustrating this has been, and I want you to know we’ve already elevated your concerns to our VP of Sales and the regional sales team so they’re aware of the situation in your area. From our side on the social team, we’re doing everything we can to make sure your feedback is heard at the highest level.”

At first glance, it sounds like action. My concern has been “elevated.” My frustration “understood.” My loyalty “valued.” But there was a hollowness to it. I asked directly: who exactly was I speaking to? Was this a Toufayan employee, a vendor, a contracted community manager reading from a playbook? The answer: “Whatever you feel comfortable with. I have informed her of our communication.” Which is to say, nothing at all.

That’s the performance of conversation in a nutshell. The social media manager — whether robot, vendor, or junior staffer — never addressed the question itself. The missing wraps, the broken store map, the empty shelves remained unmentioned. Instead, I was told I could email Stephanie at a PR firm for “a more formal response.” The loop was closed, neatly and politely, but not by providing an answer. By redirecting me away.

So I did email the PR contact. I asked, again, the same questions. Why are gluten-free wraps unavailable? How often are Toufayan products supposed to be stocked in New York City markets? Are deliveries handled by Toufayan directly, or outsourced to a third party? Why are Toufayan displays so often messy, when other brands manage neat shelves in the same stores? Do drivers or distributors check? What accountability exists if the shelves look abandoned? And at a larger level: who is actually running Toufayan’s social media, and do managers ever see the feedback customers post?

We got a response from Stephanie Rogers of Seymour PR.com, representing Toufayan. The reply that came back was polite but evasive. “Our distribution team delivers products and stages them beautifully, but throughout the day customers sometimes can cause the shelf to look in disarray, and the store employees are responsible for this maintenance in each individual location. Our team does restock and refresh the shelf back to our high standards on each of their product deliveries.” That was the official word. Translation: not our problem. The messy shelves were blamed on shoppers and store clerks. The disappearing wraps went unexplained. And then, the solution offered: coupons. Free product as a substitute for straight answers.

Coupons are not a conversation. They’re an escape hatch. When a company falls back on freebies, it signals not generosity but avoidance. It tells the customer: we’d rather give you a token than engage with the substance of your concern.

And this is where the whole structure shows its cracks. The social media team assures me they’re “elevating” concerns. The PR firm provides boilerplate about how shelves get messy. Management itself stays invisible. The customer, meanwhile, is left wondering if their questions ever landed anywhere real.

The irony is that the questions I asked are not complicated. They’re the kind of questions any brand should be prepared to answer. Why are gluten-free wraps unavailable? [Hold for PR response or No Comment] How often do you stock Zabars, Gristedes, West Side Market, and Broadway Farm? [Hold for PR response] Are drivers held responsible for neglected shelves? [Hold for PR response or No Comment] Who actually runs your social media — employees or vendors? [Hold for PR response or No Comment]

Each of these could be answered with clarity. Instead, they remain suspended, replaced with polished phrases and a coupon offer.

Gluten-free wraps and messy shelves are small things, but the pattern they reveal is bigger. If social media is just a performance — a place where brands pretend to be accessible while carefully ignoring inconvenient questions — then it’s worse than useless. It becomes an engine of customer frustration.

The promise of social platforms was direct access. A customer could raise a hand and be heard. But when that hand is ignored, again and again, it doesn’t just erode trust in the brand. It erodes trust in the idea that companies ever intended to listen in the first place.

What’s striking in Toufayan’s case is the split screen between the surface and the substance. On the surface: a feed of glossy promotions, cheerful captions, and hashtags that promise connection. Behind the surface: vendors, scripts, PR hand-offs, and no accountability. The shiny storefront masks a hollowed-out relationship.

Customers don’t expect perfection. Shelves will sometimes be messy. Products will go out of stock. What they do expect is honesty. If a product is being discontinued, say so. If distribution is a mess, explain it. If the team running social media doesn’t actually work inside the company, be transparent about that. Customers can handle imperfection. What they won’t forgive is being ignored, redirected, or treated as if their concerns don’t merit real attention.

If a brand is going to be on social media, it should use the platform honestly. That doesn’t mean answering every complaint with a perfect solution. It means acknowledging questions, providing explanations when possible, and letting customers know their concerns reach people who can act on them. Otherwise, the glossy photos and cheerful captions are just a mask — a way of pretending there’s a conversation when there isn’t one at all.

Bread, wraps, pitas — those are easy to get right. What’s harder, but just as important, is listening. Toufayan, at least for now, has chosen not to. And silence, repeated enough times, becomes its own kind of answer.

Note: I’ve reached out to Greg Toufayan, listed on LinkedIn as: owner
owner, Toufayan Bakeries,Inc. Jun 1996 — Present · 29 yrs 3 mos. So far, no response.