La Flor Mexican Bakery sits in an island shopping center with a culture just as isolated as its location. The authentic bakery is paired with a Hispanic grocery and a small diner, a neighborhood establishment to the core.
I walked in to the seemingly empty shop and saw shelves full of baked goods and pastries, but I was unsure of how to proceed.
Then a bell rang and a woman entered with her daughter. She grabbed a cafeteria-style tray and a pair of tongs that had been resting on the counter and began loading up the tray with various goods from the shelves, immediately making herself at home.
I followed her lead, nervously embarking on this unmonitored form of shopping. Just then, a woman emerged from the back and promptly greeted the other customer with friendly remarks and a smile.
I say that the remarks were friendly because that was all I could discern. I found myself in a situation most Americans are unaccustomed to: being the black sheep in a culture foreign to you.
However, this realization didn’t sway my resolve to sample at least three of the many delicious confections displayed in the glass cases filling the room. None of the shelves’ contents were labeled, but I went by sight and ventured to pick a variety of treats.
I proceeded to the cash register with some minor trepidation. As the cashier loaded the items from my tray into a paper bag, I asked for the names of my selections. She smiled back at me and I quickly realized my embarrassing error. Thankfully, another customer stepped up with a sympathetic smile and offered to translate for me.
Together the pair wrote out the names of my purchase and enthusiastically pointed out what each item was in addition to what else they had in the shop. As it turns out, my choices of tostada, empanada and pan de maiz were excellent, and I shamelessly ate straight out of the paper bag on my lap as I drove home.
The tostada was a flaky, delicate pastry perfect for a sugary dessert. It made a mess, but the pieces that actually made it into my mouth melted on my tongue in a honey-sweet flavor.
The cornbread was dense and moist, and although it was more substantial than the tostada, it still held a hint of sweetness. However, this bread was more suited to a meal than an after dinner snack.
The empanada was hands-down my favorite of the three. The round dough was baked with a criss-cross topping of sugar squares, reminiscent of the pattern of a basket. It served to be the perfect medium between purely pastry and purely savory.
Overall, this bakery held something different in it not only from the home-baked quality, but also from the inherent cultural differences that gave the bread a slightly novel flavor. Similar to how each family has their own recipe for potato salad — no matter how many of the ingredients overlap, it never quite tastes the same.
La Flor gave me something original that I would be hard pressed to find at another bakery around town. It showed me both the unique flavors of Mexican baked goods and imparted in me a reminder that even in America, diverse cultures flourish right in front of us. All we need to do is step outside of our comfort zones and explore them.
The La Flor Mexican Bakery stands in an island shopping center.
