Pan Ruso Molokan del Valle de Guadalupe

This bread is from Baja California. From Francisco Zarco, the small farming town inside the Valle de Guadalupe, about an hour northeast of Ensenada. The Russians who founded the colony in 1905 called themselves Molokanos, milk drinkers, because they refused the Orthodox Church's fasts and kept dairy on the table every day. They came fleeing the Tsar and were given land by the Mexican government. The bread came with them. It has been baked in the valley for a hundred and twenty years. That makes it Mexican.

Do not let anyone tell you this is a foreign bread. The wheat is grown in Baja, the pigs that give up their manteca were raised on the same ranches that feed the carne asada stands of Ensenada, and the women who guard the recipe are the great-granddaughters of the original colonists, speaking Spanish, attending the small wooden Molokan museum every Sunday. Cada estado, su propia cocina. Baja claims this loaf and so do I.

The technique is straightforward but demanding. A sponge starter, whole milk, manteca de cerdo, and time. The dense tender crumb and the blistered thick crust come from two long rises and a hot oven with steam. The original hornos de leña in the valley are built of adobe and fired with mesquite, and the inside of those ovens runs around 450F with the wood smoke pulling color into the crust. You will not have that at home. You can come close with a baking stone, a pan of water, and patience.

My notebook has a page on this bread from a visit to the museum in 2014. The senora who taught me, granddaughter of a Tikunov family that arrived on the original train, told me her grandmother used to test the oven by throwing a handful of flour at the wall. If it browned in three seconds, the oven was right. If it burned, wait. If it stayed white, build the fire up. Saber cocinar es saber vivir.