Almera Chocolate Shop, the historic shop in Badalona where time is on its side

BadalonaEveryone stops. The windows of Bombonería Almera are like a mesmerizing flame. It's impossible not to be captivated by this historic shop. In fact, Pedro Almodóvar himself once came in, hoping to feature it in one of his films. I'm standing at the door when I run into a lifelong customer. She's come to buy two boxes of chocolates for some friends. She says her mother, who lived well into her nineties, came here to buy sweets her whole life. Receiving a gift from Ca l'Almera, as any Badalona resident will call it, is always a big celebration. Because of the quality and the love they put into wrapping the packages. On Sunday, their day off, Teresa Almera was inside the shop making bows, of all things. "Nobody makes bows anymore," she tells me. Teresa is the kind of shopkeeper who doesn't count the hours and who lives her work with enthusiasm for preserving her grandfather Cinto's legacy.

Cinto Almera knew he wouldn't be a baker like his parents. He used to deliver bread in a carriage with a horse; his father worked nights, and his mother worked days at the shop. They rested two days a year. "Bakers are the ones with the most money because they don't have the opportunity to spend it," he used to say. So he found a way out: selling Victoria biscuits. He started selling them in a shop on León Street in Badalona. There are ninety-year-olds from Badalona who still remember an event that marked them as children: the day the truck arrived with the scraps. They made little paper packets from the broken biscuit pieces and sold them at bargain prices. Everyone sent their children so they could eat as much as they could. It was a time of hunger.

Cinto prospered and decided to open a chocolate shop. He took the furniture he had from the biscuit shop, some display cases that are in perfect condition, and today I see bags filled with wafers. He set up shop on Mar Street, the elegant passageway that connects the beach and the town hall. This year marks 75 years since the Almera family began sweetening the lives of their fellow citizens, with the same furniture they started with, and a host of women with the Almera surname behind the counter. Teresa Almera, from the third generation, and her niece, Montserrat Vidal Almera, from the fourth, are the ones who lead the way. "The good thing is that the more years go by, the better. We shouldn't modernize. We should only preserve it. Ensure it's antique, not old," explains Teresa. Around her, her daughter, her young wife, her niece, and Mercè Mauri, the shop assistant who has also been part of this matriarchal family for ten years, are constantly working. The bell above the door keeps ringing. Customers are already starting to stock up for Christmas. This includes the "traditional nougats," such as the whisky-flavored one. This one sells a lot for a simple reason: "Because the Pope—Enrique Almera—loved it and recommended it. You sell what you're convinced of." They work with several bakeries that make the product to their specifications. They add more Anís del Mono to the anise-flavored nougat, even though it's not the original recipe, and triple the lemon in the wafers they use. They also have "good coffee," as the customers call it. It's the Almera Blend, which Salvador Sans, from Cafés El Magnífico, designed for them. He used to go there for coffee when he was a child.

Your name on the label

They already have their Christmas products available for customers, although the buying has started early. Except for the cream nougat. Teresa warns me that the nougat they have is preservative-free. If you buy it, it must be eaten immediately; at most, it lasts four days, she advises. They make a list of those who want it and will sell it just before Christmas. It's no joke about product quality when the name on the label is yours.

They have chocolates, cataneas (which her father used to call taboo), and modern nougats, like the one from Dubai. They've also made a dark chocolate version for those who don't like it so sweet, and the Catalan version with a crunchy wafer and hazelnut coating, the Carai nougat. Quite clever. There are some products they can no longer sell because the artisans are retiring, like the stuffed and fried lambs or the raspberry and cava balls. The latter, which came from Germany, had their machinery deemed obsolete by a European inspection. Regulations that are death sentences.

At Ca l'Almera, they champion traditional businesses. Teresa created a window display featuring sugars from Badalona shops, and for March she's preparing a display showcasing the historic stores on Carrer Mar. Her sister Montserrat, mother of Montserrat Vidal, was a great showcase, and Teresa has dedicated herself wholeheartedly to maintaining that high standard.

From behind the counter, they've seen how much the world has changed. They used to create enormous gift baskets, some with luxury items like silver nativity scenes or Lladró figurines. "Now, in many companies, if you receive a gift, you have to share it with your colleagues." Another celebration that has declined is All Saints' Day. Christmas is still very popular, but families are smaller, so the nougat that's most successful now is the smaller size. Nobody wants to miss out, but portions have been reduced.

Fruit in syrup has also disappeared due to lack of demand; "people no longer know what arrope is," says Teresa. What has returned, thanks to a new artisan, is the Nice chocolate. Far fewer sweets are sold, "nowadays some people think sugar is poison. Everything in moderation. My grandson is one year old, and I give him a good biscuit. I don't give him processed pastries. Maria biscuits shouldn't be fried, they should be toasted. There are people who come looking for quality biscuits for their children. If it's not a good day, it's not a good day. Teresa.

And she remembers the happiest times of the year. When it's Easter and they come to buy Easter cakes. Happy godparents and proud godchildren. And when the children come, with a few coins, to buy something for their mothers. "Mom says everything at Ca l'Almera is good," many children say with a pile of coins in their hands. Teresa looks at the budget and puts the most proud ribbon on the modest gift. "They're the customer of the future and they leave happier than a clam," Teresa declares. Meanwhile, Montse hasn't stopped for a second making ribbons and wrapping gifts with the The skill of a magician of illusions.