HOSPITABLE SAVAGE : A VIST TO GUSTO BREAD

I drove the grade again through Oxnard and over towards Thousand Oaks on my way to Los Angles.  Saturday morning early, I wore my polkadot dress and layered jackets because the weather has been so cold.  The empty lot next to the factory outlet stores read more like an Irish field electric green and blanketed with goats, clearing the cover of overgrowth.  Natural mowers not aware that their decadent winter grazing was a job.  The contrast to the “let’s make a deal” concrete mall adjacent made me crack a smile.  The basin before the freeway grade climb looked stoic as the clouds nestled over green hills and broke just so as the sun’s rays beamed through. If not for the row of outhouses and makeshift water stations along the agricultural  beds it could have been a timeless view, but the cars climbed steadily and the congestion made a mockery of that early morning nostalgic mood.

I was heading into the city to visit Gusto Bread, a bakery in Long Beach.  I don’t leave Ojai much but my community of bakers is extensive via the insta phone application and a desire to visit many of theses fabulously talented people has forever been in the back of my mind.

Years prior I had met Arturo and Ana, the proprietors of Gusto Bread, when they ventured to Ojai for a visit and brought a stack of the most delicious homemade flour tortillas as a gift.  I am sure that anyone who has the pleasure of meeting these two feels an immediate warmth and grounding….their energy is peaceful, unpretentious….calming.  The flour tortillas they gifted were the same and it was clear then as it became even more clear this day in LA that Arturo and Ana are a special couple doing special things in a special and very authentically personal way.

I managed my way into the city by 9:00 and found parking, crossing my fingers my car would be there when I returned.  This seems to be a reoccurring concern of mine when I venture into cities, a rather ridiculous insecurity which ticks in the back of my head because I truly deep down don’t belong.  I tap into a reservoir of survivalist tactics many would reserve for naturalist adventures in the wilds of the woods. To me the city is that jungle and without a constant on guard at every moment mentality I might not make it home and could very certainly park my car in the wrong place and somehow loose it.  I parked, locked the car and walked to the small bakery window in the very quaint neighborhood of Long Beach.

Gusto Bread was hosting a pop up with another impressive baker and food content creator Bryon Ford, from New York, visiting his friend and collaborator for this Saturday morning Media Luna Pastry event.  Arturo and Bryon had stayed up late into the evening laminating a run of a few hundred beautiful light, flaky and syrupy sweet Argentinian pastries. Out of the oven at ten o clock it would be a rush of people lined up to get a taste, maximum of four per customer to ensure that most people would have a chance to walk away with a warm weekend morning, fresh from the oven, bakery experience.

I slipped in the door to be greeted with Bryon’s huge smile and hug….that ever common feeling within the bakers community that we are family whether we know each other or not.  The simple fact that we bake and hawk bread seems to be enough to welcome each other with open arms full of baked goods and laughs like a mother’s embrace at the mouth of her kitchen.  The small store front opened through the arched doorway into a small bakeshop.  From a baker’s perspective it was perfect.  Only the essential equipment lined the walls….mixers, sinks, ovens, racks……and two shaping tables fell in the center.  The back held two built ins…..one walk in cooler and one storage room stacked with bags of flour….between the two a small wooden mill….for cornmeal only.

Getting to know Arturo it became clear that this mill for corn was perhaps the crux of his creativity and self taught baking persona……and the heart of Gusto Bread.  Arturo is of Mexican descent, his partner Ana, Argentinian.  They built up their bakery from a small kitchen operation not unlike mine.  He started baking bread in a wood fired hearth oven in their backyard and through community support found a niche to bake in.  From a desire to remain faithful to their heritage blossomed a product uniquely theirs.  In a baking community where we all strive for a very standard European style open crumb sourdough product, a product unifiably the same, these two made something a little different.

Bryon welcomed me to the convection ovens as he pulled out trays of media luna pastry…..half moon, crescent moon.  Arturo brushed the tops with a simple sweet syrup and the conversation turned to talk of pastry names….the Argentinian tradition of giving morning pastries revolutionary names.  Both bakers interests went beyond the baked goods and I could tell the knowledge of their craft in relationship to where they came from was a deep fascination.  Byron is Honduran, having grown up in New Orleans and then onto Brooklyn.  He mentioned the Honduran connection to New Orleans through an old banana route.  Supposedly some Russian man really wanted bananas and so started the banana trade.  From there many Hondurans made their way north.  Bryon’s mother’s craving for Pan De Coco, a bread of sweet and coconut, took him away from a systemized standardized baking path during the pandemic and opened up a a new path for him.  He posted the recipe online and became quite the overnight sensation in the online food and baking world.  A book, a show and podcast later he is a household name and baking influencer.  Yet he still believes in the baking, the substance as he calls it.  We must make the bread and feed the people for anyone to be interested in what we have to say.  Staying true to the craft.  Staying true to ourselves.

Next came out the cinnamon rolls, an after thought of waste end croissant bits.  Cinna bunned up and topped with a thick frosting.  Arturo mixed a little blue corn husk into the sugar for a fine blue tinted dusting on top.  I asked how running the business had been since he expanded from his home into the larger baking space.  He confided that he had been struggling….with employees.  Bakers coming from other institutionalized bakeries or culinary schools….with their opinions and attitudes towards the “right way” to do things.  Gusto was his bakery yet people were telling him he was baking the wrong way because he was self taught.  I refer to all of us self taught bakers as scrappy bakers.  We came to the baking world in a round about way, out of the box, creatively .  Arturo’s story was not far from my own experience at The Dutchess where I was made to believe by my partners that I didn’t know what I was doing.  That my way was chaotic and impractical….that it didn’t make sense.  And as I lost confidence he too had lost confidence in his skill and creativity.  It is a feat to build that confidence back up and stand behind what you have made.  It is a strength to stand by your authenticity.  As Arturo says, people are scared of that.

I asked to try the media luna.  It is deeply similar to a croissant in looks.  The recipe is nearly the same apart from an added egg yolk and a bit more sugar.  What separates it from the traditional French croissant is the sugar syrup glaze on top.  I tore into the warm pastry to find a soft light interior crumb.  My first bite was nothing less then spectacular with the subtle sweetness of that syrup setting it apart from the other morning pastry croissants.  The media luna is a breakfast staple in South America and I can taste why.  That with a coffee or tea…cup of hot chocolate and you’ve stepped right into heaven.

From media luna to taco lunch, the boys invited me to stay and enjoy the afternoon in the backyard with their lovely ladies and Ana’s Argentinian mother.  The backyard consisted of a large table and an Argentine grill.  The fire is built on the side and hot coals brushed under the grate for optimal heat distribution.   The conversation ran circles. The ins and outs of Spanish. Linguistic variations from Mexico, Honduras and Argentina, bounced about as Arturo casually whipped up the most delicious taco feast I’ve ever had.  Grill roasted onions, tomatoes and blanched red chiles in a small copper pot to the side blended into the most delicious thick salsa.  Carne asada marinade in Cara Cara orange juice and red chorizo sizzle.  The grandfather’s comal for fresh masa tortillas…a specialty of Arturo’s for sure.  Grabbing the meat with the tortilla in hand and garnishing with crema, cotija, cilantro and salsa.  Pure delight!

We talked at the table about food memories….a chick pea flat bread to top pizza….and Bryon’s New Jersey bred fiancé reminiscing about bologna sandwiches, liver wurst and cream of celery soup.  Funny where we all come from and can sit and enjoy a meal together.  I am a true believer that this is what food is really about.  It is about these conversations and the laughter and the stories we tell each other.  All while eating that damn delicious taco from scratch on an Argentine grill.  Arturo, the hospitable savage, as Bryon calls him.  “We bake what we bake”. And isn’t that the truth of it.