When the town stops smelling of bread: Petra's last bakery faces closure

PetraOn California Street in Petra, at the head of the street named after Father Francesc Palou, the day has begun long before sunrise every morning for over a century. This custom may change starting in August. Can Jaume des Forn, the last bakery in Petra, will close its doors forever if nothing is done to stop it. Lita Torrens Font (Petra, 1961), who has worked in the family business for over forty years, is now ready to retire. For the last ten years, she has run the business alone, inherited from her husband Jaume's godparents, who had to relinquish it due to illness. The daily ritual of buying bread amidst the warmth and aromas of a traditional bakery to put on the table is in danger. This often imperceptible custom, sometimes undervalued precisely because it has always existed, could disappear from Petra's urban landscape, as has already happened in other municipalities of the Pla de Mallorca region.

The bakery has been open since 1925, and the family roots go back to her husband's ancestors. Lita is clear that she's retiring and that the future of Can Jaume des Forn "lies upstairs." She repeats it every time the question comes up.

"Due to life's circumstances, my husband fell ill in 2013 and was coming and going. Then, around 2016, he had to stop. I stayed on with the employees, and we'll keep going like this until August, when I'll retire," she explains.

The option of a fourth generation taking over the bakery is on the table, but unlike many other shops or businesses that close because young people don't want to take over, the situation at Can Jaume des Forn is different: "My son is considering it and has doubts because of young people. And he tells us about the hours: from 1 a.m. to mid-afternoon, in shifts, yes, but no weekends. It's the eternal problem of traditional bakeries."

Far from begging or pressuring him to take the job, she makes a confession where the mother prioritizes her son's quality of life: "He could take it, but it's not his job. I'll tell you the truth: I'd be happy if my son didn't take it," she surprises us. And she explains: "He's been too much of a slave to it. The work is great, it's not hard, but you have to be there all the time; the problem is the hours… Young people want to enjoy themselves, they want to work Monday through Friday. If someone comes looking for a job now, they want weekends off. I close on Mondays, but you still have to work for restaurants and supermarkets."

In this regard, she also recalls parties cut short. "The holidays come, and that's when you have the most work. You can't have a good time. You'd go to dinner and by midnight you'd have to leave because my husband came to work at midnight. And young people don't want that, and I think that's normal."

Another option is for the employees to take over, two on the night shift and two on the day shift, who work with Lita, but they're also considering it: "They're keen, but they're not sure...; it's upstairs."

If it does close, it will be the last to shut its doors. Can Rafel and Ca na Praxedis closed before it.

The customers

Naturally, customers are asking us not to close. "They don't want us to close. Neither the long-time customers nor the new ones. Some because they've always been used to it, and others because they come here and it's a novelty for them to see a bakery doorway still open with freshly baked bread, ensaimadas, and cakes. People who come from other towns—since many towns no longer have bakeries—finding a doorway is what our loyal customers value. That's why, amidst nostalgia and doubts about the future, we have a moment to talk about the quality of products from traditional bakeries compared to pre-made and frozen products. "Some supermarkets have their own rolls and bake baguettes that they bring in from elsewhere, and it's not the same quality; there's a big difference. This has hurt bakeries. For example, you can't eat one of these baguettes by nightfall." "And what we make, you can eat it the same at midday as at night."

At Can Jaume des Forn, they make everything. "The best thing here, according to everyone, is the ensaimada. We make all kinds: plain, dark and white chocolate, apricot, angel hair, cream. We make cocarrois at Easter, and at Christmas, large potato coca. Then we make white bread, brown bread, wholemeal bread, and also llong." A list that concludes with a smile, a shrug, and a laconic: "All this is our life," which he repeats three times.

The life of three generations, that of the town of Petra and also that of the Pla region of a Mallorca that is mutating towards an uncertain future, and does so remembering a not-so-distant past that, unfortunately, it is already beginning to yearn for.