A comal house, from masa to mesa. One frame at a time.
Every morning starts the same way: a ball of dough, patted and turned by hand until it holds its shape.
Cakes and folds share the iron - pressed, turned, and pressed again. The comal does not hurry, and neither do we.
Each piece is lifted from the hottest iron while the steam is still working over the comal.
Plated warm and dressed simply, with a sauce on the side.