San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
A FAMILY’S SAUSAGE TRADITION TAKES ROOT.
Maria Davila and her husband Roberto were in El Salvador, readying a move to the United States, when they got their family’s blessing — and sausage recipes.
The couple was discussing their pending decision with their loved ones. The move would be to California, where they were determined to expand the family’s 57-year-old sausage company.
The place they were leaving was Cojutepeque, El Salvador, a place known as “Chorizo Town” and home to an annual chorizo festival. Geographically, Cojutepeque is in the heart of El Salvador, and the chorizo — and its family recipes — are at the center of its culture and heritage.
Doña Evita, Robert’s mother, had been known for her embutidos (sausages), described by many as the most famous in the region for more than half a century.
And so, Doña Evita gave her daughter-in-law and son her blessing, and she shared the recipes that had been responsible for the successful business in El Salvador. As Doña Evita handed the paper to Maria Davila, she urged her on with strict words: You better take care of the recipe. The first thing you need to take care of is the recipe. And never compromise the quality.
Davila took the recipes, and said, “Esta bien, lo prometo.” OK, I promise. For Davila, this marked the first time she got her mother-in-law’s actual recipe, including the town’s favorite, Doña Evita’s Salvadoran chorizo.
More than four years later, the business they would build in the Bay Area would become Artesana Sausages, a Salvadoran sausage company — and as best they can tell, the San Bruno-based company is the only Salvadoran sausage company.
For many Salvadorans in the U.S., a taste of home often comes via Salvadoran restaurants serving up traditional dishes and the famous national dish, pupusas, those griddled discs of masa filled with pork, beans, cheese or some combination thereof. For others, they find escape in the imported goods that come sealed, frozen or canned and often found in Latinx markets.
A common experience for Central Americans, particularly Salvadorans, is to personally import said goods if they’re not accessible stateside. This is especially true regarding fresh and smoked sausages, which are illegal to bring through customs.
“A lot of people run the risk and stash them in suitcases and bring them anyway,” says Davila. “So that’s the demand that we’ve been thinking of (and) that’s the opportunity here in the U.S.
“We said, ‘Let’s start this adventure; let’s see what can be done,’” she continues.
The family had been producing different kinds of sausages in El Salvador since 1962, like salchichon, butifarras (a spicy round sausage) and fresh chorizo.
The latter is very different kind than Mexican or Spanish chorizo. Although Bay Area costumers are familiar with chorizo, Davila is often challenged. “The first question, the burning question that any new person firsttime trying it is, ‘What’s the difference?’” she says.
“Then they buy it, only to share with you that they’re going to make tacos.” Davila throws her hands in the air, because tacos are not a Salvadoran dish.
Their Salvadoran chorizo is a strongly seasoned ground pork made with vinegar, wine, achiote (annatto powder), green peppers, pumpkin seeds and a variety of spices, among other ingredients. The juicy flavor is uniquely tangy and bright — and unlike Mexican chorizo, it’s not spicy.
Because of the educational factor, passing out samples has become one of Davila’s most important — and favorite — jobs. For years, they sold their Artesana sausages at 10 different farmers’ markets across the Bay Area, and have since expanded to select Bay Area grocery stores. Her eyes still light up when she sees a positive reaction to the taste of her family’s recipe.
In a unexpected twist, it’s the Salvadoran community that has challenged them the most. At first, prospective Salvadoran customers can’t believe that a legitimate sausage company from El Salvador has come to the Bay Area. They would ask if they were “for real” Salvadoran?
“So many clients found us in the farmers’ market, many of which were Salvadorans who were really happy with the product and with the flavor. They kept buying it despite it not having tuza,” she says, referring to the corn husk material that is traditionally used to tie the chorizo. Tuza does not impart any flavor to the chorizo, but it’s always used in El Salvador.
Many family traditions remain, though: making sausages in small batches, pork raised without antibiotics, no artificial ingredients or flavors. “Everything is natural,” she says. “The meat is all natural ... because this is the way that we make food back in El Salvador.”
The success has allowed Artesana to expand to new products, rolling out soon, including smoked sausages, salchichon (Doña Evita’s favorite, and the first sausage that started everything back in El Salvador) and butifarras.
When asked about that special recipe that her mother-in-law gave her, Davila responds with a nervous laugh, “We have the recipe and I don’t share it.”
“Well if I tell you, I’d have to kill you.”
“The meat is all natural — because this is the way
that we make food back in El Salvador.”
— Maria Davila, Artesana Sausages