The Mollerussa oven that has withstood more than 150 years of historical vicissitudes

MollerussaMollerussa was once a veritable desert. In the 19th century, it was called the Clot del Demoni (Devil's Clot), because it was a cauldron where not a drop of water circulated. Virtually no one wanted to live there. It was with the construction of the Urgell Canal and the arrival of the first irrigation system in 1862 that things changed radically. The land became fertile, and people populated the area. One of these newcomers was Pere Duacastella, a locksmith from Aguilar de Segarra who had initially taken the train to seek his fortune in the city of Lleida. He stopped in Mollerussa and ended up staying there, attracted by the great opportunity offered by the new location. In 1868, he opened the doors of a bread bakery that is still in operation today.

The ancestral home of Mollerussa is known as Cal Pere (in honor of its founder), and, after five generations, today's heirs still bear the same name. The bakery's current owner is named Josep Guiu. His father renamed the business Forn de Pa Guiu. He moved it to a busier area and added a cafeteria service more than twenty years ago. "But many still call me Pedro," says Josep Guiu, smiling.

Cal Pere or Forn de Pa Guiu, it doesn't matter; it has survived the vicissitudes of a century and a half of history. Not only marked by a civil war and an austere dictatorship, but especially by the arrival of large commercial areas. "When they began to establish themselves in our city, I lost half of my clientele," says Guiu, now fifty-six. He learned the trade from his father, Josep Maria, who in turn learned it from his father-in-law, and so on back to 1868.

Bread was, in the founder's time, a guarantee of survival. The business always operated, even after the war. When the current Guiu returned from military service in his early twenties, he decided to bake at a time when they only baked loaves of one and a half kilos and one-quarter kilos. The moment he took over, bread burst onto the scene in supermarkets at just thirty cents apiece. A price both ridiculous and unbeatable. And so, he realized he had to make a radical change. At that time, there were up to six bakers in Mollerussa. Today, only two remain. "We've never been competitors," says Guiu, "it was the big-box stores that ended up bringing us down." But it's proven that his survival has been guaranteed by baking a quality product. More expensive, but healthier. "Those who come to my shop are people who want to eat well and not have digestive problems," he points out.

"My father was very reluctant to change, but to survive we had to do something different," he recalls. And that's when they started baking spelt bread, whole wheat bread, raisin bread, walnut bread, sliced ​​bread, cashew cakes, and sweet chocolate cakes. He even now sells sourdough bread, which he had to learn how to make in a training course in Barcelona. The cafeteria service rounded out a project that has kept Guiu's name alive for a good few more years. They've grown to have a staff of ten, including bakers and assistants spread across two stores. But now, with retirement looming and the lack of vocations on the horizon (none of his three children seem interested in taking over), he's decided to ease his foot off the accelerator. He takes it with serene resignation. He's not afraid of becoming the generation that will permanently close a historic business and prefers to think it's been good while it lasted.

Josep Guiu still remembers the days when he would get up at midnight to go to the bakery to prepare the dough with his father. He was a twelve-year-old teenager, and in his youth, he had few free nights with his friends. As an adult, with the new delayed fermentation techniques, he was able to improve his work schedule somewhat. "But an bakery is still an obligatory business," he admits. Every morning he gets up at three to bake and open a business that not only supplies the customers who walk through the door, but also school cafeterias and restaurants in the region. "The business is doing well, but I understand that the new generations don't want to take it on because it's too much of a chore," he acknowledges.

Faced with a lack of staff and the decision to live more slowly, the family has decided to close the shop every afternoon and even go on vacation for a few weeks in August. "We accept that this could be the end, but I don't feel it," he concludes firmly. He doesn't mind being the last generation of the historic Forn de Pan Guiu. Or Cal Pere, it doesn't matter.