Neither chocolate nor coffee: here the churros are dipped in water and salt

In a courtyard there are two lemon trees, a jug and half a dozen metal tables. Two neighbors arrive waving. They give a voice.

- George! Three dry and one mojaíto!

- And put me two and two!

The women approach a corner and wait, chattering, for their command to arrive, which is already sizzling in the fryer. A minute later, with tweezers, Jorge takes out a still steaming churro that he dips into a basin full of water and salt. He serves it soaked and asks for it to be eaten quickly. "What a delight," exclaims one of her clients, Ana Isabel Esparza, 48, with her eyes wide open. "It's a tradition we love to follow. And many people from outside also come. There is nothing like it," says Josefina Villarubia, 70. A few bites later, both say goodbye and new orders arrive.

The protagonist of this scene, which is repeated almost daily, is called Jorge and is surnamed Gómez. He is 54 years old and in addition to being a huge fan of bicycles and music, he is the churrero master of Er Mojaíto, a unique churrería located in the Plaza de Los Naranjos de Ojén (Malaga, 4,218 inhabitants) a beautiful white village five minutes from Marbella. With white apron and yellow hat, in action is pure nerve. He handles the dispenser at full speed, distributes the dough over the oil making circles and seconds later extracts the churros to take them to the small sea inside the basin. That last gesture, that of smearing them in salted water, is their difference, their added value, their uniqueness. And most surprising. A priori everything indicates that the fried dough will lose its essence, but the opposite happens: waterlogged increases its flavor. The salty point is the final fantasy.

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"What are they good at?" asks Gomez, smiling and not waiting for an answer. After nine years as a griller at the restaurant El Tanguito, in Marbella, he decided to fulfill his dream in his town: to run his own business. He did it with a small churrería that he opened 17 years ago. Three years ago he moved to the current premises, next to the square where the only bank office in the town is. Every day he arrives at five thirty in the morning to prepare the dough while listening to the program Hoy empieza todo by journalist Ángel Carmona, on Radio 3. Gómez explains that his recipe was inherited from his mother, who in the postwar period had to go to the house of the gentlemen of the town to knead their bread and in the eighties also sold churros. In addition to water, flour and salt, the key is in the sourdough. "It's the secret. And it's all natural," he says. It does not add additives or preservatives, hence it makes about 10 kilos every weekday morning. On Saturdays and Sundays, he estimates, he makes between 40 and 50 daily.

The owner of Er Mojaíto deftly serves the churros, which he fries in oil at about 210 degrees, somewhat lower than usual so that the frying is slower and a thin crust is formed. "So, when you bathe them in water, they stay crisp," he says. Gómez says that he has been listening all his life to how they call him crazy for that strange way of serving each churro, but that also in that time he has seen that those who try it, return. Like the attendees of the Ojeando festival, who every summer fill the town to attend the concerts held at school – with Xoel López or Colectivo da Silva this year in their poster – and who always have breakfast in their cafeteria. "Those days are crazy," says who also serves smurfs — small bread rolls — of colored butter or oil and tomato, among other options.

Churros de Er Mojaíto in Ojén (Málaga). Garcia-Santos

Er Mojaíto is the only cafeteria in the province of Malaga that offers churros dipped in water and salt (it also does it in the traditional way – dry – which can then be taken with coffee, chocolate or whatever each client pleases). Its origin is related to the years of scarcity. The simplicity of the dough made its elaboration in the houses of the town relatively common to make fritters. When it was left over, churros were also made. And since the families were large, in both cases they were soaked in water and salt because it filled more. It is also related to the custom of soaking fritters, fried bread or other sweets in other towns in Andalusia such as Puente Genil, the Sierra de Huelva or some points of La Alpujarra in Granada. In winter, anise is also used before going out to the field to work.

"The tradition, little by little, has been passed between generations in Ojén. Until now, Jorge keeps it in his cafeteria, "says Juan Merino, 42, proud of his own, who this morning receives the congratulations of every neighbor he meets. "I've just been elected mayor," explains the leader of a local formation, Por mi pueblo. "I had 1,458 WhatsApp messages. Last night I finished answering them and now we have come to have some mojaítos churros and to continue working, "he says. He prefers to "squeeze" them before eating them so that they lose some water.

In Er Mojaíto churros are first prepared in a traditional way. Garcia-Santos

In the queue, the orders pile up to the churrero teacher while the neighbors talk about everything a little – a solidarity race in which the students of the school participate, the recent elections, the early summer heat, "who will be those at that table who are not from the people", "Oh what to do with Maria, who does not water the plants!" — and wait their turn. "Two mojaítos, Jorge," shouts another neighbor from the square. The person in charge of the business maintains a devilish rhythm around the pan throughout the morning and recharges, when he can, the lebrillo with a little water and salt. "Throw another mojaíto more!", is heard as Jorge Gómez looks to see if, for once, it is Ángel Carmona who asks for them. "Here I wait for you," concludes, happily, the singular churrero.