Bread is identity: it carries the most intrinsic sense of home, of childhood memories, of nurture; it defines entire nations and provides a sense of nationality or of the collective self. Think of Matzah, Naan, Pitta, Tortillas, all intrinsically linked to a country’s gastronomic heritage.
It is not surprising that when one looks into the evolution of bread through history, so much of it, in whatever shape or form it is presented, is linked to the evolution of civilization itself. But what happens when evolution results in fusions or new varieties? - Is that sense of national identity diluted?
Take the flour Tortilla, deliciously soft, almost velvety from the addition of lard, butter or vegetable fat to the wheat flour and water. With about 500 years of history behind it, it is a great example of how this humble, flat and originally unleavened bread has transcended borders and boundaries and has become a staple not only in Northern Mexico and in the United States but all over the world.
When the Spanish Conquistadores arrived to Mexican shores, they found the Aztecs had been making corn ‘tlaxcalli’ for about 3.5 thousand years; these ‘tlaxcalli’, or as they were ‘baptised’ there after as ‘tortillas’, were boasting a pedigree as far back as Olmec’s time (c 1200 BC to c 400 BC). The term tortilla was given by the Spanish who had mistakenly identified the ‘tlaxcalli’ as a ‘torta’, which was a sort of Spanish cake or ‘small cake’. Soon after their arrival, the conquistadores introduced wheat into Mexico. It is believed that wheat was grown for the first time by a servant of the conquistador Hernan Cortez after finding a few grains mixed in a sack of rice. By 1534, only thirteen years after the conquest, Mexico was producing important amounts of wheat. The first official mill was licensed in 1525 somewhere in what is now Mexico City. They lost no time implementing systems to grow it in the new world. Most of the production of wheat during the XVI century was destined to make bread and communion wafers.
When Portuguese Jews coming from Spain established themselves in the Northwest of the country in the later part of the XVI century, they attempted to make Matzah, an unleavened, flatbread central to their passover rituals, by using the coarse, broken down wheat available in the region, mixed with water. It is believed that this bread became the father of the modern flour tortilla, which now graces tables all over the world.
Flour tortillas were also a political and socio-economical choice. In the centre of Mexico, native people worshiped ‘Chicomecoatl’ the goddess of maize and nature; the Aztecs believed that corn was a gift from the gods, so it was ingrained in their rituals and believes; so naturally, corn tortillas were the only choice for them. The newcomers, however, saw corn as a peasant food, clearly identifying the consumer as ‘uncivilised’, while wheat, on the other hand, was a sign of good breeding, Spanish heritage and good standing in society. The choice of grain on your table mattered, as it determined who you were and where you came from.
While corn tortillas have remained pretty much a symbol of Mexican sovereignty, flour tortillas have not been constrained by identity or national boundaries, they have transcended into the gastronomic fabric of other peoples’ cuisines. Their migration into the basis of American regional foods such as Tex-Mex and Cali-Mex shows that for a pretty new bread, they have made an incredible impact on food history.
From the Jewish tables of the Mexican Northwest, to the kitchens of Texas and all the way down to the restaurants of Europe, flour tortillas are a food migrant on a quest to find a place of their own, to make a name for themselves and perhaps, like their ancestor Matzah’s makers, to find a promised land where their identity is unquestionable and unique. After all, five centuries of history, migration, assimilation and transformation, have resulted in a perfect circle, landing them on the tables of the people of modern Spain as a Mexican item.
We made flour tortillas last night - from sourdough discard. Economic and environmental adding to this fascinating history. Very interesting post!
Very interesting and I don't doubt this at all as it makes total sense - but do you have some academic/state/historical sources on this 'migration'?