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Caf\u00e9 Bolita chef-owner Emmanuel Galvan checks the texture and pliability of\u00a0the masa as it\u2019s ground through the molino.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Vanessa Labi\/S.F. Chronicle<\/p>\n
Every Christmas, my family makes a pilgrimage to La Superior market\u2019s molino, or masa mill, to buy two sacks of masa harina, the dehydrated flour version of masa. Masa, the dough made of ground corn, is the heart of our holiday tamales. My mom reanimates the flour by adding lard or vegetable shortening (in recent years, batches of both, since we now have passionate vegetarians and meat lovers in the mix), salt and broth.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Bringing the masa back to life in this way is a shortcut. By contrast, soup-to-nuts nixtamalization\u00a0\u2014 wherein dry maize, or corn, is soaked and transformed overnight into nixtamal and immediately ground into a rich, buttery foundation for tamales or as the girdle for taco ingredients\u00a0\u2014 is much more time-consuming. But somehow, our abbreviated approach, what with all the mixing and whipping and the nail-biting float test, still feels like a lot of work. It\u2019s an effort that precedes even making and assembling the tamale filings, not to mention wrapping and tying them all up with corn husks. Trust, our semi-homemade version of masa is still delicious, but the extended nixtamalization process, the one that keeps the masa wet the entire time, produces a softer texture and more complex flavor.<\/p>\n
No wonder that virtuosic nixtamalized corn tortillas\u00a0\u2014 handmade, earthy, supple\u00a0\u2014 can be hard to come by. Even in the Bay Area, where there\u2019s been something of a boom<\/a>, they\u2019re essentially only at a Michelin-starred establishment<\/a>, a handful of higher-end restaurants and select food trucks.\u00a0<\/p>\n Article continues below this ad<\/p>\n Caf\u00e9 Bolita kitchen manager and molinerx Jasmine Embry sifts and shakes the nixtamal, transferring it from the pot where it’s been soaking to a container. From there, they will pour it into a grinder to be kneaded into masa.<\/p>\n Vanessa Labi\/S.F. Chronicle<\/p>\n Perhaps no one is as obsessed with masa or making it more accessible than Emmanuel Galvan, who opened Caf\u00e9 Bolita earlier this year<\/a> in the former Standard Fare space<\/a> after years of popups<\/a> offering his masa-focused take on Mexican food. On a recent weekday morning, I ventured to Caf\u00e9 Bolita to document Galvan\u2019s nixtamalization process for the Chronicle\u2019s Instagram<\/a>; my colleague Cesar Hernandez reviewed the restaurant<\/a> earlier this month.\u00a0<\/p>\n By the time the sequence began that morning, three ludicrously capacious pots of maize had already been steeping overnight in a bath of water (for absorbing and softening) and calcium hydroxide (for unhusking)\u00a0\u2014 but only after a meticulous regulation of water temperature. \u201cDepending on the varietal,\u201d Galvan said, \u201csome of them stay on heat for about an hour and a half, some for about an hour.\u201d Then they turn off the burners, cover the pots and let them metamorphose into soft, plump kernels ready to be ground.<\/p>\n San Francisco Chronicle Logo<\/p>\n Make us a Preferred Source to get more of our news when you search.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Add Preferred Source<\/p>\n <\/a><\/p>\n Kitchen manager\/molinerx Jasmine Embry sifted out a motley of indigo and ochre kernels, the C\u00f3nic\u00f2 azul variety, with a giant colander. The yellow bits showing through on each nub, Galvan said, was the pericarp, or outer skin, softening and sloughing off. This disrobing allows the actual starches inside the maize kernel to hydrate. \u201cAnd now it\u2019s called nixtamal,\u201d he said. Galvan uses rare heirloom varietals, like Tolonki blanco, which makes a fluffy masa for tamales, and C\u00f3nic\u00f2 azul, which is better for tortillas.<\/p>\n Article continues below this ad<\/p>\n Pork chile verde quesadilla from Caf\u00e9 Bolita in Berkeley.<\/p>\n Cesar Hernandez\/S.F. Chronicle Cafe Bolita\u2019s carrot masa tamal is seen at Cafe Bolita on Thursday, February 26, 2026, in Berkeley, Calif.<\/p>\n Lea Suzuki\/S.F. Chronicle<\/p>\n Heap by 12-pound heap, Embry shook the nixtamal vigorously through the sieve, pointing out how even the sound of the kernel hitting the colander is different post-soak. The heaving and straining comes with, well, strain, leading Embry to call attention to another metamorphosis\u00a0\u2014 their own physicality. \u201cThis has completely changed my body,\u201d they said.\u00a0<\/p>\n The exertion of the operation was apparent, and conjured for me the labor behind my family\u2019s tamale-making, which, though nowhere near as involved or as scaled as Caf\u00e9 Bolita\u2019s enterprise, never ceases to feel like \u201ca whole thing\u201d every Christmas.\u00a0<\/p>\n After the giant, 120-pound pot of nixtamal was thoroughly filtered, it was carted over to the grinder, and Galvan brought out a pair of round volcanic stones striated with grooves emanating from its center. \u201cAll molinos that I know of at this point still use volcanic stones,\u201d he said. \u201cThe importance of the volcanic stone is that you have a very porous texture.\u201d The coarseness lets the kernels grip the stone, so they get more thoroughly broken down. Heat from the stones, meanwhile, makes the masa a bit more homogenous. \u201cOut of it comes a dough that is fully ready masa.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n Emmanuel Galvan, in doorway, owner, opens the door to a line of customers for the super soft opening at Cafe Bolita on Thursday, February 26, 2026, in Berkeley, Calif.<\/p>\n Lea Suzuki\/S.F. Chronicle<\/p>\n Galvan poured the nixtamal of the ecru-hued Tolonki varietal into the hopper then added a bit of water. As he activated the whirring machine, he and Embry tightened the stones to begin the crush. The masa began to fall like immaculate, fluffy snow into the container below. They checked its texture in real time to make adjustments as needed. \u201cWe\u2019re smelling, we\u2019re feeling, we\u2019re looking at it,\u201d Galvan said.\u00a0<\/p>\n Article continues below this ad<\/p>\n After that batch, Galvan and Embry fed in the deep blue C\u00f3nic\u00f2 azul. He balled up a scoop of the pale navy dough, pressed it into a perfectly round tortilla and cooked it on the plancha: one sear on each side, a third rotation for the final puff, then a sprinkle of salt. He handed it to me, demonstrating its pliability by rolling it into a taco. Still warm, I bit into the bare tortilla, which had a roasty, nutty flavor and a subtle sweetness.\u00a0<\/p>\n Having my eyes opened to what goes into nixtamalization after consuming mass-produced tortillas, and even to the semi-homemade version of masa during Christmastime, was a quiet epiphany. After witnessing and tasting fresh masa firsthand, I\u2019ll be pursuing that enlightenment again and again.<\/p>\n Caf\u00e9\u00a0Bolita. 2701 Eighth St., Suite 118, Berkeley. www.cafebolita.com<\/a><\/p>\n<\/p>\n
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