
Chef Lupita
Cocotazo Yucateco
Yucatán's round salty merienda roll, enriched with egg yolk, butter, and manteca, crowned with four chuchulucos in a tight square. Mérida's chopping bread, the one you tear into beside a café de olla.
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Mérida's elongated soft rolls from the panaderías of the Centro Histórico, enriched with manteca and sometimes hiding a vein of queso de bola, baked golden for the late-afternoon merienda.
These are from Mérida. Not from the panaderías of Ciudad de México, not from the bakeries of Puebla, not from any version of pan dulce you have seen on a national list. The pata is a Yucatecan bread, slimmer than a bolillo, softer than a telera, enriched with lard and eggs, sold by the dozen in the panaderías of the Centro Histórico since the 19th century.
The Yucatán has its own bread tradition because the Yucatán has its own everything. The Peninsula was cut off from the rest of Mexico for most of its history. No roads, no rail, ships came from Havana and New Orleans before they came from Veracruz. That isolation built a cuisine that does not look like the rest of the country. The queso de bola in its red wax rind comes from Dutch trade routes through the Caribbean. The pata is what Mérida's bakers did with European wheat once it arrived and once they decided the bolillo was too austere for the heat and the appetite of the Peninsula.
The lard is not negotiable. La manteca es el sabor and it is also what gives the pata its tender, slightly yellow crumb that pulls apart in shreds instead of crumbs. Butter makes a different bread. Vegetable shortening makes a sad bread. If you do not have manteca, walk to a carniceria and ask for it by name, or render your own from fresh pork fat. It takes an afternoon and it lasts months.
My mother did not bake patas. She was from Jalisco and her bread tradition was different. I learned this one in Mérida from Doña Carmen, who ran a panadería off Calle 62 for forty-three years and who let me sit on a stool in the back of her bakery for two weeks while I wrote down what she did. She rolled each pata between her palms without looking, the way you would tie your shoes. She told me the queso de bola version started in her grandmother's bakery in the 1940s, when the cheese was cheap because there was too much of it coming in through Progreso. Saber cocinar es saber vivir. Saber panificar es saber recordar.
Yucatecan bread culture developed in relative isolation from central Mexico through the 18th and 19th centuries, when the Peninsula traded by sea with Cuba, New Orleans, and Europe rather than overland with Mexico City. The pata emerged from this period as a distinct regional roll, alongside the pan francés (a flat oval-shaped roll traditionally marked with a strip of huano palm leaf) and the cocotazo with its four chuchulucos. The queso de bola filling reflects the Yucatán's long commercial relationship with Dutch traders, who supplied Edam in red wax rind through the port of Progreso from the 19th century onward; by the early 20th century, queso de bola had been so thoroughly absorbed into Yucatecan cuisine that it appears in regional dishes from queso relleno to merienda breads as if it were native to the Peninsula.
Quantity
500 grams (about 4 cups)
Quantity
100 grams (1/2 cup)
Quantity
10 grams (1 1/2 teaspoons)
Quantity
10 grams (1 tablespoon)
Quantity
2
at room temperature
Quantity
120 grams (1/2 cup)
warmed to 100F
Quantity
120 grams (1/2 cup)
warmed to 100F
Quantity
100 grams (about 1/2 cup)
softened, plus more for greasing
Quantity
150 grams
rind removed, cut into 12 batons
Quantity
1
for brushing
Quantity
as needed
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| harina de trigo (unbleached all-purpose flour) | 500 grams (about 4 cups) |
| granulated sugar | 100 grams (1/2 cup) |
| fine sea salt | 10 grams (1 1/2 teaspoons) |
| instant yeast | 10 grams (1 tablespoon) |
| large eggsat room temperature | 2 |
| whole milkwarmed to 100F | 120 grams (1/2 cup) |
| waterwarmed to 100F | 120 grams (1/2 cup) |
| manteca de cerdo (pork lard)softened, plus more for greasing | 100 grams (about 1/2 cup) |
| queso de bola (Edam) (optional)rind removed, cut into 12 batons | 150 grams |
| egg yolk beaten with 1 tablespoon whole milkfor brushing | 1 |
| flour for dusting | as needed |
In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, salt, and instant yeast. Make a well in the center. Add the eggs, the warmed milk, and the warmed water. Stir from the center outward with a wooden spoon until a shaggy dough forms. The dough should be soft but not soupy. Yucatán is humid. Some days the flour drinks less water. Hold back two tablespoons of water if the dough feels too wet on the first mix.
Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured counter. Knead for five minutes until it starts to come together. Now add the softened manteca de cerdo, a tablespoon at a time, kneading each piece in completely before adding the next. The dough will look like it is falling apart. Keep working. After eight to ten minutes of kneading, the lard absorbs and the dough turns silky, soft, and elastic. La manteca es el sabor and it is also the tenderness. Butter does not give you the same crumb. Vegetable shortening gives you nothing. Use lard.
Form the dough into a ball and place it in a bowl greased with a little lard. Cover with a damp cotton servilleta. Let rise in a warm spot until doubled, about one and a half hours. In the heat of Mérida, this takes an hour. In a cool kitchen, allow more time. The dough is ready when you press a finger into it and the indent stays without springing back.
Turn the risen dough onto a lightly floured surface. Punch it down gently to release the gas. Divide into twelve equal pieces, about 80 grams each. A kitchen scale matters here. Patas need to look like sisters on the tray. Roll each piece into a tight ball, cover with the cloth, and let rest for ten minutes. This rest relaxes the gluten so you can shape without fighting the dough.
Take one rested ball and flatten it into an oval with your palm. If you are filling them, lay a baton of queso de bola down the center now. Fold the long sides over the cheese and pinch to seal. Then roll the dough under your palms into a torpedo about six inches long, tapered slightly at the ends. The shape should be longer than a bolillo and slimmer than a telera. This is the pata. Place each one on a parchment-lined baking sheet, leaving two inches between them.
Cover the shaped patas loosely with a clean cotton cloth. Let them rise for 45 minutes to one hour, until visibly puffed and the dough springs back slowly when poked. Halfway through this rise, set your oven to 375F so it is fully heated when the patas are ready. A cold oven kills the final rise that gives the pata its open crumb.
Brush each pata gently with the egg yolk and milk wash. This is what gives them the deep golden color that Yucatecan bakeries are known for. Bake on the middle rack for 22 to 25 minutes, rotating the pan once halfway through. The patas are done when the tops are dark gold, the bottoms sound hollow when tapped, and the internal temperature reads 195F. If you filled them with queso de bola, you will see a small bubble of melted cheese pushing through one end. That is the sign. Así se hace y punto.
Transfer the patas to a wire rack or, the way the Mérida panaderías do it, a woven palm petate. Let them cool for at least fifteen minutes before eating. The crumb is still setting in those first minutes out of the oven. Tear one open with your hands, not a knife. A serious pata pulls apart in soft, slightly yellow shreds from the egg and lard. Serve warm with mantequilla, with a bowl of frijol colado, or alongside cochinita pibil. In Mérida this is the merienda bread, eaten at five in the afternoon when the worst of the heat has broken.
1 serving (about 92g)
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Chef Lupita
Yucatán's round salty merienda roll, enriched with egg yolk, butter, and manteca, crowned with four chuchulucos in a tight square. Mérida's chopping bread, the one you tear into beside a café de olla.

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