Thomas Bakeshop

Santa Catalina smells like bread

In Thomas Bakeshop the smell of bread fills our noses, and our eyes wander through shelves full of products.

Author: Joan Ramis Boscana

The neighborhood of Santa Catalina looks unrecognizable early in the morning. We disembark in its streets after looking out from the viewpoint of Es Jonquet, a very short route in which we cross with the early risers of the area: carriers unloading stacks of boxes in the market, the staff of the Santina that takes some tables on the sidewalk. The silence is almost absolute in this place of Palma, a tranquility that is rarely perceived in a place like this, and that is only interrupted by the bustle of some workers. A girl on a bicycle parks next to the entrance of a place we had hardly seen, a place embedded between the houses on Carrer d'Anníbal with a sign that reads: Thomas Bakeshop. The message on the glass window reinforces the name of the sign: artisan sourdough bread. We stand spellbound in front of the door until the girl on the bicycle comes out with a loaf of bread under her arm. We want to imitate her.

The size of this bakery is the first thing that strikes us. It is rather small, flirtatious, and the concentration of so many delicious products in such a small space makes its smell intensify. In Thomas Bakeshop the smell of bread floods our nose, and our eyes wander through shelves full of products, all made with sourdough. The offer is so varied that if we wanted to try something different every day, they would have to invent new days of the week. An Italian bread with generous holes in its crumb, a whole wheat spelt bread whose wheat was already cultivated in the Bronze Age or a beet bread - attention, beet - whose name alone is an eye-opener. These are just a few of the genius creations by Thomas, who has been working at night for the past seven years so that his products take on fanciful shapes at dawn. 

From so much contemplation of the bakery's products, we didn't realize that someone was waving at us. It is Michelle, who smiles at us from behind the counter and wonders if we want anything. She tells us that the fermentation of their breads takes more than twenty hours, and that during the weekend they offer products that have been prepared over three days. Patience, it seems, is another of the ingredients with which they fill their breads. That's why we took a medium rye bread that took seventy-two hours to make. We also feel like having a coffee. Michelle tells us that of course, we can sit at a small table that they have set up right at the entrance, where they have placed a vase with flowers and a pile of books. A place to enjoy the morning.

We order a raisin snail to go with our drink that we alternate with a few sips to warm our throats. The snail is so deliciously fragile that it almost seems to be made of glass, it is as perfect as the morning ahead of us. We have never enjoyed Santa Catalina in such a leisurely fashion. Thanks to Thomas Bakeshop and their organic flours, we began to see it in a different light. When we go back into the bakery to take some more stuff  home, Michelle gives us a piece of focaccia wishing us to enjoy it, and honestly we're sure we'll like it. Her smile is so sincere that it is impossible to refuse her invitation. No wonder there is a poem in the place dedicated to her resting on a high table. Before leaving the bakery, we see that on their shelves they sell oil and Mel Vici honey. We smile as we identify a project we already know in the premises of another one we have just embraced. When we set foot on the street, Santa Catalina gradually regains its usual rhythm.