East Austin salsa shootout.

Margo's salsa. © Ryan Schierling

In Texas, the most important food contests and cook-offs involve barbecue, chili, and salsa or hot sauce.

There are as many opinions on salsa as there are types of salsa, and the stuff is so cheap and plentiful in the Lone Star state you'll never go wanting. Like breakfast tacos, it's just something Julie and I take for granted.

For years, we never entertained the idea or explored the possibilities of making our own. Our "house" salsa was a store-bought, fiery little number made in Telephone, Texas. It just worked for us, and that was that. When a tortilleria down the street opened up last year, we started buying freshly-made tubs of a delicious roasted rojo and a fresh, piquant verde. The flavors were so much more crisp and unadulterated, and a 16-ounce container was under two bucks. Say hello to the new "house" salsa...

A few months ago, Julie's friend Margo brought totopos and fresh salsa for a party. It was a roasty, spicy, smoky kick in the face and everyone loved it. Growing up, Margo's grandmother would make a special pico de gallo every Saturday. "It had loads of lime and tomatillos and an entire bunch of cilantro. A part of me keeps that flavor in the back of my mind every time I hear the word salsa." Her salsa recipe is a heritage-driven nod to her grandmother, with her own twists based on the ways her palate has changed since she was little – and it is some of the best table salsa we've ever eaten.

Last week, we got an email from RL Reeves, Jr. asking if we'd like to participate in a salsa shootout at his next pop-up restaurant event at Tamale House East. We were flattered, and a little baffled. Though we make pico de gallo and salsa verde often, there's not a single salsa recipe on Foie Gras Hot Dog. It was either develop our own version quickly, or make a batch of what was inevitably bound to be our new "house" salsa – salsa de Margo.

We called Margo, got her blessing, and working from an envelope scribbled with notes, Julie and I whipped up the salsa Friday night. On the preliminary taste, it was bloody hot (we used freakishly-large, whole jalapeños), and the smokiness of the chipotles and adobo was a little too pronounced for my taste. Immediate corrections that came to mind were agave or piloncillo, but we decided to stick it into the refrigerator and let the flavors come together overnight. Before I left for work on Saturday, I asked Julie to sample it when she got up and let me know how it was aging. She added salt to taste, and when we tried it again before we left for Tamale House East, it was a well-rounded salsa with a slow, lingering burn. Perfect.

A little nervous, but armed with 1-1/2 quarts of the good stuff, we set out to meet our 11 other salsa shootout competitors. 

The rules for voting were simple – everyone attending the pop-up restaurant would blind-taste-test the 12 salsas one by one on chips provided, then circle a single number on the ballot (1-12) for their favorite salsa. There were no names, and patrons had no idea who provided each salsa.

While the voting was underway, we enjoyed fantastic Smiling Tiger Pop-Up dinner with a pair of deejays spinning old-school Texas vinyl. We met some of Austin's most interesting food writers and drank too much and were probably way too chatty. But when the tall-boys were emptied and the dust settled... it was a tie. Two salsas had garnered the exact same number of votes. Impromptu ballots were made and everyone still in attendance tasted the deadlocked pair of salsas one more time. The new ballots were tallied and the victor was... Margo's salsa. 

(RL Reeves, Jr. posted a pop-up wrap-up on his site scrumptiouschef.com that waxes poetic about the battle, so we'll let his eloquence do the talking. Honestly, we're still bowled over about just being invited to participate.)

Looking back on the notes, we realized we hadn't followed things exactly to the letter, but we were close. In the original recipe, one jalapeño is roasted and the other is raw – we roasted both peppers. It also called for salt, pepper and cumin, but we didn't see the pepper or cumin notes on the scribbly envelope recipe, so they were inadvertently omitted. 


Margo's Salsa (adapted)

4 tomatillos, whole
2 jalapeño peppers, whole
1 large tomato, chopped
2 chipotle peppers (about 2 ounces), chopped, with 1 tablespoon adobo sauce
1/2 small white onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped
1 bunch fresh cilantro (about a large handful), chopped
juice from 1-1/2 limes
salt to taste

Broil the whole tomatillos and both jalapeños until slightly charred and soft. Cut the stems off the jalapeños. Put tomatillos, jalapeños, and all remaining ingredients into a blender, pulsing to achieve desired consistency. Adjust seasoning to taste. Refrigerate for a few hours or overnight to let the flavors blend. 

Makes 24 ounces. 


Margo's Salsa (original)

3-4 tomatillos, whole
2 jalapeño peppers, whole
1 large tomato, chopped
1 3.5-ounce can San Marcos chipotles in adobo
1/4 - 1/2 small white onion
2-3 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped
1 bunch fresh cilantro (about a large handful), chopped
juice from 1-1/2 limes
salt/pepper/cumin to taste

Broil the whole tomatillos and one jalapeño pepper until slightly charred and soft. Cut the stems off the jalapeños. Put tomatillos, roasted and raw jalapeño peppers and all remaining ingredients into a blender, pulsing to achieve desired consistency. Adjust seasoning to taste. Refrigerate for a few hours or overnight to let the flavors blend. 

Makes 24 ounces.