Daniel Jordà’s Daybreak Rituals at Panes Creativos
Daniel Jordà, at 57, looks tired from the work that starts when the city still sleeps and the streets are wrapped in quiet. In the Barcelona workshop of Panes Creativos, the day begins in the small hours, when the world feels protected by darkness and a new loaf is born. The bakery handles Ancien, a sourdough bagel with an extraordinarily high hydration, measuring around 90 to 95 percent. It is almost impossible to knead a mixture so liquid, yet the result is a bread with a texture so light it seems to float. Ancien, the real bread he plans to savor later, feels like air in the mouth.
The fatigue is visible in his eyes, the flour on his beard, and the calm, almost placid mouth that still carries a smile. Lunchtime comes early here, and he remarks that his lunch doubles as dinner, with a nap tucked between five and six in the afternoon. This schedule is not the usual routine, but it is the one the panettone line imposes, a line that demands attention day after day. He confesses to a soft addiction to this Italian-inspired dessert, a taskmaster that shapes his days.
In 2022, his candied fruit classic won a prestigious driving award for the best panettone in Spain. The victory felt like a breath of relief and a spark of possibility: the dream and happiness that followed could propel the bakery forward, with plans to bake in December between six thousand and eight thousand units. A note of gratitude rings through his words: the award felt like a lifeline.
Display of breads and panettones from Panes Creativos is a common sight at the bakery, where the artistry of pastry and bread comes to life in front of customers’ eyes.
Daniel continues to balance the craft with practicality, selling roughly two hundred panettones per month year round, even through summer heat. He ventured into this specialized architecture about a decade ago, weaving together design, texture, and color to create breads that welcome restaurants and top chefs among the clientele.
Yet the path has not been smooth. The energy and raw material costs rose, the pandemic shortened the team from fourteen to seven, and the catalog that once promised everything began to fray. Boxes, shipments, and customization gave the business its breadth, but continuing would have meant sinking under the pressure. Still, the team rallied, focusing on bold breads that could travel and satisfy discerning palates.
When asked whether creativity ever wears thin, a response comes from someone who studied Fine Arts and added color to a bakery career: creativity remains alive, even as many things change. The neighborhood matters here. Panes Creativos is not a polished boutique on a famous avenue; it sits a short distance from Meridiana, in Plaza de Garrigó, in a modest, working-class quarter of Barcelona. The locals request baguettes, and the baker listens. He also offers seed bread and Japanese Hokkaido buns, a blend of familiar tastes and new experiences.
The workshop sits near the Trinitat quarter, at the gateway to Barcelona, where the family bakery began under the old name Forn de la Trinitate. The idea has always been simple: invite people in, give them something worth pausing for, and let the neighborhood grow around the bakery. The sentiment echoes a cinematic line from a beloved film: people will come if the product speaks to them. Panettone becomes a bridge—opening doors, gathering crowds, and signaling ambition beyond the storefront.
The production pace remains deliberate: three days of patient fermentation and careful handling before the loaves reach the shop. The ambition is meticulous, the craft demanding, and the mood determined. The baker often pictures himself inside a dome, a metaphor for the careful balance of heat and air, where the halo of carbon dioxide and aroma rises like a Sistine Chapel inside the oven. The focus is on preserving structure and scent with every stage.
Opening a panettone reveals a honeycomb-like crumb. The loaf is rich with butter—roughly eight hundred grams per kilo of flour—so the center stays moist, the steam carries sweetness, and the flavor lingers on the palate. The bakery remains a beacon of persistent craft, a place where people are drawn not by hype but by genuine, honest bread. The bakery’s future is shaped by the question: will people come? The answer lies in the work and in understanding what the neighborhood seeks.
Behind the quiet routine lies a determination to keep the heart of the bakery beating steadily. Daniel’s team, the loyal customers, and the steady flow of daily bread form a community, a circle that sustains Panes Creativos through both quiet days and bustling celebrations. The kitchen hums with the rhythm of production, and the loom of the oven weaves stories of resilience, flavor, and connection.
Ultimately, the loaf becomes more than sustenance. It stands as a testament to a craft that holds fast against time, a reminder that dedication and place can shape something transcendent in a small shop near the city’s edge. The panettone that emerges from Panes Creativos is not just bread; it is a narrative of a neighborhood, a family, and a vision that refuses to be rushed.
Daniel Jordà’s hands craft more than pastries. They shape memory, lineage, and a future where people will continue to seek out this humble bakery for the warmth of a well-made loaf.