If tamales are on your agenda, doña sauce should be, too. Ubiquitous throughout Austin taquerias, high-end and low-brow, every plate is splashed with a shock of green salsa, clearly different from the rest. So commonplace that its absence is more notable than its presence, it didn’t even occur to me that it was a specific local phenomenon, invented just 20 years ago. More than just another salsa verde, salsa doña has secured a cult following without even trying.
What Is Doña Sauce, AKA Salsa Doña?
Invented by Bertha Gonzales while working at Tacodeli, it handily won an in-store salsa competition to snag a $30 prize. Given a Spanish honorific title out of respect, it became the signature flavor of this burgeoning chain, eventually being packaged for nationwide distribution. The amount of doña sauce being made everyday to meet the demand is staggering, to the tune of 60 pounds of jalapeños per individual taco shop, per day, to say nothing of commercial production.
Unforgettable Flavor
Built upon the smoky char of roasted jalapeños, garlic, and cilantro, such a simple foundation belies its complexity. Thick, rich, and creamy, it looks alarmingly like some dairy amalgamation at first, but that distinctive texture is all thanks to emulsified oil, much like an eggless aioli dip. Moderately spicy and somehow simultaneously cooling, brilliantly fresh and herbaceous, it’s hard to believe that this sensation comes together with only six common ingredients.
I Put That Sh*t on Everything
Tamales, tacos, burritos, nachos, queso, soups, burgers, wraps, sandwiches, salads, rice, refried beans… Stop me anytime, because the list of possible uses for salsa doña is truly endless. Anything that needs a little kick, regardless of the cuisine, is a prime candidate. The only thing I’d suggest not putting it on is your toothbrush, but then, you do you.
Often Imitated, Never Replicated
Tacodeli doña sauce copycat recipes abound. I don’t claim mine to be the most authentic since I wasn’t trying to recapture that lightning in a bottle. Instead, my version is inspired by the revered matriarch, leaning more heavily on the garlic and cilantro than other comparable renditions. Likewise, make it your own, dialing the ingredients up or down to taste. If you’d like yours hotter, leave the seeds in the jalapeños. Whatever you do, don’t let you tamales go naked. Especially when you’ve gone through the trouble of making such an important, labor-intensive holiday staple, they deserve the very best salsa to dress for the occasion.
