Jacob Komarow is a 30-year-old entrepreneur, high school dropout, and former drug addict. He’s also known around New York City as “The Baklava Guy,” and he truly believes he found his American Dream in Turkish pastries.
The man behind Good Baklava is a nomadic baklava business that sells pastries on the streets, in the back of vans and makeshift stands, and even online. Now, it’s riding a thrilling wave of success, fueled by viral fame and a guerilla-style sales strategy. The five-year-old business doesn’t have a permanent storefront, at least not yet. So, from city parks to music festivals, you can always find Komarow hawking their layered, syrupy sweet treats. Throughout May and June, he also roamed the streets outside Madison Square Garden, helping crowds of jubilant New York Knicks fans celebrate their team’s championships by offering free slices of baklava, which he imported from a supplier in Gaziantep, Turkey.
Komarow — that’s his real name but goes by Roy Donk professionally, a nod to the Netflix comedy skit show “I Think You Should Leave” — points to the Knicks’ success as a turning point in his business. After a social media video of his MSG appearance went viral, Komarow’s exposure exploded and he was profiled in the New York Times, where he says, “The baklava wildfire just started.”
“All of a sudden, brands were asking us to partner with them,” he says. Good Baklava has since worked with companies like US Mobile and Acme Smoked Fish, as well as several local and national restaurants. “We grew our Instagram audience by 20% overnight[after the Times article ran]. Just showing up in New York and celebrating was finally recognition for what we’ve been chasing for the past five years. I don’t think this company could have survived anywhere else.”
He’s been doing more than just surviving these days. Over the past nine months, Good Baklava averaged just over $20,000 in monthly sales from curbside sales, occasional pop-up stores, a wholesale business that supplies local cafes and shops, and online orders through its Shopify website, according to documents reviewed by CNBC Make It.
Like everyone else, Komarow is surprised and delighted that Good Baklava has come so far. “It wasn’t supposed to get this far,” he says. “So this is the American dream.”
It started as a joke, but then it became a side hustle.
Komarow admits the business started as a joke.
On his way to a Phish concert in California in September 2021, he stopped at a Middle Eastern grocery store and decided on a whim to buy three trays of ready-made baklava and sell them to concertgoers to make some extra money. He bet a skeptical friend he could sell it all for a profit, and ended up tripling his money, Comarow said.
The fact that he had the first slivers of success may have been more out of desperation than inspiration. In 2021, Komarow went six months sober and said she lost her “first real job” as an online marketer for a clothing company. He moved into freelance marketing work and used his baklava business as a side hustle to make ends meet. For about three years, Komarow bought trays of baklava to sell at Phish concerts, he says, but then expanded his reach to other outdoor events where large gatherings of potentially hungry people could gather. He has now been sober for more than five years and said he is “grateful” to be alive and well.
Komarow roams the parks and beaches of New York City, selling baklava slices in a style he likens to stand-up comedy.
Source: CNBC Make It
In the spring of 2022, Komarow bought pistachio baklava from a Turkish vendor in Paterson, New Jersey, and it changed his life. “He seemed surprised,” he says. After initially purchasing in bulk directly from the supplier, by 2024 Komarow was introduced to the supplier, a commercial bakery in Turkey, which now ships trays of freshly baked baklava on a monthly basis, giving Komarow what he enthusiastically calls an “unlimited supply of baklava.”
Now, wherever he sells his products, Komarow is an evangelist for the Turkish baklava he sells. It features finely ground pistachios and a light lemony syrup, but it’s not to be confused with the traditional Greek version, which includes walnuts and honey.
He claims Good Baklava’s products are “a cut above” other commercial baklavas, touting 40 layers of flaky dough with a mix of sweet and nutty flavours. “It creates a spectrum of textures…from crunchy to soft, squishing each layer in your mouth. (You) taste the earthiness of the nuts followed by a sweet aftertaste.”
A full-time business that strives for consistency.
Despite recent notoriety, Good Baklava’s best month to date came in December 2025, when Good Baklava raised nearly $70,000 thanks to a combination of holiday orders and steady foot traffic at its temporary permanent location at New York’s outdoor Union Square Holiday Market. The business’ sales for the next month were less than $10,000, highlighting the haphazard nature of Good Baklava’s business model.
Komarow won’t be paid for a permanent location, but there are other costs to contend with. In addition to paying suppliers to ship products, we also cover packaging and marketing costs, as well as fees paid to Shopify for hosting Good Baklava’s e-commerce website. As the business grows, Komarow says he needs more help, estimating he has a total of 11 part-time employees who handle marketing and administrative tasks as needed, help with packaging and staff the counter at the pop-up space.
Setting up a booth at the holiday market also involved additional costs in securing the proper permits and insurance exemptions. At other times, Komarow said, he takes his chances without getting formal permission from the city, whether it’s wandering around a park or selling out a van. Komarow laments the “police problem” in which law enforcement officers sometimes order him out of parks and festivals for selling baklava without a permit, but he says he has yet to be arrested or fined.
Komarow hopes all the attention Good Baklava has been receiving lately, including millions of social media views, can pave the way for a more permanent and reliable source of income. He is looking for more corporate collaborations, special events, and pop-up locations. Komarow is also considering recruiting investors to back a brick-and-mortar store, but he doesn’t want to lose the spontaneity behind Good Baklava’s rise to fame.
For now, Good Baklava’s future is far from concrete, but Komarow is optimistic. He says Good Baklava has consistently brought in at least $20,000 a month in income since the Knicks’ playoff run and the hype from the Times article in June. This baseline of stability gives Komarow the confidence that he can start paying himself about $4,000 a month by the end of 2026, the first salary he’s received since starting his business. Komarow previously used freelance marketing income to cover his personal expenses, but in July he put that business on hold and devoted all his time to Good Baklava.
He uses Good Baklava’s profits to pay for the Brooklyn apartment that also serves as the business’ semi-official base. There, he and several part-time employees pack and store trays of baklava baked at a commercial bakery in New Jersey after it arrives monthly on unbaked pallets delivered in shipping containers from Turkey.
Komarow is open to anything that will keep his business growing. “If it’s one store, great. That’s as far as we can go. No problem,” he says. “It would be even better if we had 300 stores. There is no end goal. We just want to move forward.”
An ever-evolving sales pitch
Whether he’s in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park, Rockaway Beach, or the parking lot of a Phish concert, Komarow follows the same basic sales strategy. Flashing a glimpse of the baklava tattoo he got on his arm in April 2022, just a few months after selling his first slice, he walks up to unsuspecting, and hopefully hungry, strangers with a fresh tray of his signature product.
Komarow likens his improv style of sales pitching to being a stand-up comedian doing crowd work. “Building an audience leads to sales,” he says. He usually approaches people with friendly introductions and simple, unbiased questions. “Hello! Can I sell you some baklava?” From there, he can make charming small talk, talk about the weather, or explain about T-shirts that say “Good baklava; no drugs.” It was created to answer exactly the question the t-shirt posed. Komarow said when he sells baklava at concerts, more customers tend to ask if the treat contains anything illegal.
“I’ve been selling baklava for five years, and it’s been five years of careful testing. I’ve tried different strategies, tried different sales pitches, different keywords, different approaches, different intros, and applied them in real time,” Komarou said, adding that he believes he can learn something new every day on the job to sharpen his sales pitch.
“It’s really a combination of listening and adapting, understanding the patterns of what questions people are asking, how to navigate those, how to be resourceful with that, and really closing the deal,” he says.
Once the story is settled, Komarow explains the pricing. They typically sell for 3 tickets for $10 and 7 tickets for $20, but music festivals, where concessions are usually much more expensive, may charge $15 for 3 tickets. He also explains where baklava comes from and how he came across this particular type of dessert.
Is Komarow just a good salesman or has he truly become a true believer? He insists he’s never been more serious as he continues to test how far he can take a business he once started as a joke.
“Baklava is my whole life now,” he says. “It’s the best pastry on earth.”
