Follow me on a brief regression if you will: The year is 1971 and my mother and I were visiting the town of Sóller, on the island of Mallorca, soaking up the magical mix of sun, scenery, and, of course, food. As we strolled through the town square, imagine my hungry young eyes locking on the hypnotic spiral pastries being prominently displayed in the local bakery window. I was undeniably transfixed. A few pesetas and big bites later, I was hooked on this slightly sweet, puffy cloud of goodness—no doubt I was thoroughly covered with a dusting of white confectioners’ sugar as well.
But though it presents an innocent snow-kissed, snail-shell exterior, when I began to tear into the Ensaimada’s anecdotal history, I was truly surprised by what I found when I dug into the research. There is convincing evidence that the pastry’s origins are from a dark chapter in Mallorcan cuisine, which itself had influences from Judeo-Christian and Arabic populations. Often attributed as the inspiration for the Mallorcan Ensaimada, Arab pastries called bulemes dolces are spiral shaped, and use all the same ingredients, save for the fat, which is sheep's milk butter instead of lard. However, the name “Ensaimada” contains the Catalan word for pork lard—saïm. This seemed counterintuitive to my understanding of all things kosher. Upon further reading, I found reports that during the Spanish Inquisition, lard was intentionally added to historically lardless recipes. Thus the change to a pork-fat-infused pastry became a sort of edible auto-da-fé for those who were forcibly converted from Judaism and Islam to Catholicism. Eating Ensaïmadas in the late 1400s was proof that one had literally stomached Christianity!
Despite their controversial history, Ensaïmadas remain a stalwart of Balearic baking traditions. One can find these spirals everywhere from airport bakeries to mom-and-pop shop; their name, “Ensaïmadas de Mallorca,” is even protected by a European geographical indication status. So why haven’t they caught on outside of Europe? Enter Thea Habjanic, New York’s very own goddess of Ensaïmadas. She has developed a sensational stateside version, born of necessity, and a passion to elevate the lingering bad taste of her own “meh” experience. “When I was working in Barcelona at Albert Adria’s restaurant Enigma, I actually lived next door to a bakery that’s pretty well known,” says Habjanic, “I first tried Ensaïmadas there and I didn’t love them.”
After moving back to New York to helm Mercado Little Spain’s ambitious pastry program as their executive pastry chef, she was given a menu to execute that included a very basic Ensaïmada recipe. This launched her on a many months-long journey of testing and refinement. She even traveled back to Spain, eating her way through dozens of Mallorcan pastisserias, all in service of acing the recipe she shares with us below.
Finally, having applied her many experiences to the creation of an Ensaïmada she felt worthy of serving the public, none other than the renowned Mallorcan baker, Tomeu Arbona, surprised her with a kitchen visit one day. He was in New York on a junket, and after sampling Thea’s wares, he was so blown away he imparted a blessing of sorts: “It’s amazing—I can’t believe you’re making Ensaïmadas so well outside Mallorca.”
Arbona even shared with her a special technique of his own: He showed Thea how to cut the Ensaïmada dough so that when she took a piece from the side and placed it in the middle, it made the central spiral a bit fatter—and flakier. It was this revelatory morsel of technical wisdom that elevated Thea’s Ensaïmada game to perfection. But above all, patience and gentle practice are required. —Mark Shaw Studio
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