Salsa Stories:
Documenting the stories behind salsa on the border
as told to Johanna Nelson
P ABLO G ARCIA • E L P ASO , T EXAS
G
ood salsa is about more than mixing
together a few chiles and tomatoes
because there’s a secret ingredient that
can’t be measured - the story. Every incredible
salsa has a story behind it. Ask anyone in West
Texas about what constitutes the best salsa and
you’ll discover deep-seated passions about
intense chiles, beautiful stories of family and
culture, or salsa philosophies that vary as wide-
ly as the salsa recipes. Crafting a delicious salsa
is an art form that requires precise tuning and
a well-developed process that is sometimes car-
ried on for generations.
Salsa Stories is a project that seeks to cele-
brate and explore the craft of making salsa in
far West Texas and the wonderful stories
behind it.
When I was growing up, my parents
had this thing that when they were
invited to people’s homes and the salsa
was too hot, it was like disrespect to
them, and they thought it was almost
offensive. So, that idea has stuck with
me throughout my life and when I’m
making salsa, I’m always very con-
scious of the heat level; I never want to
make it too hot. For a basic table salsa,
I prefer a traditional style and strive for
a medium heat level. It’s a lot easier to
add to it if you decide you want it to be
hotter. Or, you can always just make
one that’s hot to have on the table
along with the milder version, too.
I still use my Mom’s original salsa
recipe from roasted Serrano chiles. My
salsa making process is pretty simple.
I’ll roast around four chiles while I’m
boiling the tomatoes. Once the chiles
are blackened and soft, I put them in a
plastic bag for a couple of minutes,
which is a trick of the trade that makes
it easier to peel off the skin. Some peo-
ple like to have black char in their salsa,
but I don’t care for it. I use a concasse
process with the tomatoes and let them
boil just until their skins begin to peel.
Then, I put the peeled chiles and the
boiled tomatoes in a blender.
Next, I’ll add a small, fresh onion to
the mix. I’m not looking for a sweet
taste when I make salsa, so that’s why I
don’t cook the onion; the longer you
cook onion, the sweeter it gets. Then, I
add a few cloves of raw garlic, salt and
pepper, cumin and cilantro. People
tend to misuse cumin a lot because it
takes a while for its flavor to release and
develop unless you heat it up. It can
taste very different the next day, so
that’s why you have to know what
you’re doing when you use it. It’s also
important to pay attention to the con-
sistency. I like my salsa to be chunky,
but not too thick. While you’re blend-
ing, you can always add a little of the
water that the tomatoes were boiled in
to help get it right.
If I go to a house or to cookouts,
especially when I was involved with the
church more, people usually ask me to
make the salsa. Most people will
always remember a good salsa or ask
for the recipe. I think the secret is keep-
ing it simple. When people get compet-
itive, they try to outdo themselves, but
with salsa, I think the key is sticking to
the basics. I’ve carried my mom’s salsa
recipe with me my whole life; I’m glad
I can use it to create something that
people like and brings them together.
Now she’s 67, she might have lost a lit-
tle of her step with age, but I’m positive
that she still makes the best salsa.
Our family has been in the same
neighborhood in East El Paso for 36
years. Growing up with my brothers
and sisters, there were a lot of bad influ-
ences around us. I ended up being
involved with gangs and drugs at a
young age, but getting into food helped
me to turn my life around. I have been
in the food industry for about 19 years
and currently I’m working on finishing
up my Culinary Arts degree from El
Paso Community College. It’s interest-
ing for to me to look back on my life
and reflect on all the pieces that led up
to where I am today.
My dad worked at ASARCO, the
smelter refinery here in El Paso, for 40
years. I would see my mom wake up at
4 a.m. to make his breakfast and lunch
every day. When I was younger, I woke
up early to be able to sit there and talk
to my dad before he went to work,
especially during the weekends. I liked
watching my mom as she got things
ready and would pay close attention to
the things she put into his lunch box.
Sometimes, I would go through it just
to be nosy because I was such a curious
kid. After he got home from work, I’d
watch her go through the process of
cleaning it out. Every time, there was
always a small container of Tang and a
jar of salsa. I was fascinated by those lit-
tle details and the images have stuck
with me during my life.
I started off in fast food when I was
basically a kid. That was the period
when I was involved in gangs and deal-
ing with a lot of anger and issues. There
was nothing positive around, and I got
in a lot of trouble with the law.
Eventually, I had to move to Denver,
Colorado, to get away. I started work-
ing at an Italian restaurant with Keith
Brunell who took me under his wing
and taught me a lot. From that point,
my love and passion for culinary arts
really began to develop. No one had
ever given me an opportunity before; I
was 19.
I met my wife during that time, and
we started having children. I had to
start working for a temp service, which
sent me out to all types of different
restaurants and food establishments,
like universities, hospitals, and hos-
pices. As I was working in a children’s
hospital, my perception of my job shift-
ed and I came to realize how important
food was. I recognized that the meal I
was making might be the last that
someone ever ate. I developed the
mentality that everything I made had
to be perfect; it became a passion and a
force and I tried to do the best I could
with every dish.
Eventually I improved and cooking
became a part of me, and really the
only thing I was good at. Cooking gave
me the opportunity to put my personal-
ity and drive into it. It also gave me the
chance to honor my family’s heritage
by remembering old recipes or how my
mom would cook certain foods. It’s
important to me to remember my par-
ents’ story, like how my mom was a
migrant worker and immigrant and my
dad worked hard at ASARCO for all
those years. During all of that, my
mom has always made the same salsa
and used the same recipe. And now, I
am continuing it on.
Salsa is a wonderful thing to create
strong memories. It gives me an over-
whelming joy that people like my salsa.
The fact that I’m able to share some-
thing that has such an important back-
ground and tradition for my family is
something good that I can offer.
Cenizo
Third Quarter 2016
15