Mexican Grocery Stores: Bringing Depth of Flavor + Culture to the Western Slope

Daniel Castillo is a lauded chef on Colorado’s Western Slope. With stints at Elk Mountain Resort, a legendary run with his food truck and his new endeavor as head chef of Firehouse in Ridgway, his reputation precedes him. With Michelin training, much of his food leans heavily on high culinary tradition, but he also leans on his Mexican heritage for depth of flavor.

His family, from San Nicolas de Abarra, Mexico (outside of Guadalajara), has deep roots in food. Winemakers, growers and chefs abound, including his grandmother and her Mexican market in San Nicolas de Abarra.

Castillo feels a deep and abiding sense of home thinking about that store, and so finds a lot to resonate within the Mexican markets that abound in Western Colorado.

“There’s this comfort to being able to go somewhere and just speak Spanish … to be understood,” he muses. “And then there’s all the staples you can really only get there.”

At the forefront of Castillo’s mind are “those artisan tortillas,” as he says. American markets carry tortillas certainly, but they lack the depth and “the chew” of a freshly-made Mexican tortilla.

Baked goods at La Milpa Tortilla Factory. Photos by Kitty Nicholason.

La Milpa Tortilla Factory in Grand Junction is a market, but a bakery first and foremost. The store, which sells everything from salsa and produce, to candy and locally-made piñatas, is famous throughout the region for their tortillas. For over 20 years, La Milpa has made supple and flavorful tortillas — two qualities that most supermarket varieties lack. And tortillas are labor intensive. The process from corn to masa to tortilla is something most home chefs wouldn’t dare attempt — so being able to get freshly made, high-quality tortillas every week is invaluable, to say the least.

Castillo’s other priority at a Mexican market is the meat counter, as there “are some cuts that you just can’t get at a supermarket.” He highlights the costillas de res, also known as flanken ribs, or how each market “does their own adobo season meat” as unique offerings. Quality seafood like head-on shrimp and octopus are also a highlight. In particular, Castillo waxes poetic about the two types of menudo (tripe) available, and how his father would cook the rich soup “for upwards of 12 hours.”

At Carniceria Sonoyta, epazote (a must-have for proper beans) are individually wrapped. Below are habañero peppers and nopal.

Carniceria Sonoyta in Clifton is a market that wears their pride in their butchery on their sleeve. Their namesake meat counter is deep with cuts of steak, pork, as well as unique cuts like pata de res (cow feet), plus pre-seasoned, ready-to-grill varieties like pollo preparando (spiced chicken). The market also serves tacos, burritos and tortas, with a top-notch salsa bar that rivals most taco shops in the region.

The choices at Mexican meat counters dwarf most large supermarket chains, yet the stores are often quite small in comparison. This forces them to curate well, and have only quality ingredients. This extends from dry goods, like sauces, dried chiles and beans, but also to the fresh goods.

The produce is direct, often with a focus on fruits and veggies that aren’t readily available elsewhere. Sweet limes, xoconostle (a sour prickly pear), epazote (a must-have for proper beans), coconuts and fresh green garbanzos.

Carniceria El Baron Rojo in Grand Junction takes the fresh produce a step further with a variety of fresh salsas and guacamole. Castillo says a good salsa “is just fresh tomato, onion and red pepper,” and the Carniceria has a wide array of spice levels. The flavor is vibrant, and is requisite for any taco worth its salt. The guacamole is equally bright, and much more affordable than anything comparable in the larger chain grocers.

“A lot of these markets are sort of the same,” says Castillo when talking about the salsas, cheese and meat staples. “But that’s very comforting,” he adds. Immigrants, Mexican Americans and people who have spent a lot of time in Mexico alike flock to the stores and the (generally) small shops are bustling with familial activity. There’s a sense of community in the spaces, and a sense of familiarity. For many, it’s a taste of home, a place where the space between Mexico and Colorado isn’t so far after all.

Originally published in the Spring 2025 issue of Spoke+Blossom.