The El Pueblo Supermarket at 3600 Broadway in Eureka is more than 6,000 square feet, but the pull to head straight for the back wall is strong. There, at left, stand shelves of pan dulce — pink, yellow and dusted with sprinkles — beside a cold case of rainbow-colored geletina mosaico and strawberry tres leches parfaits. At center are pots of steaming tamales and a hot case with scored slabs of warm, crusty chicharron (fried pork belly) and, on weekends, hot trays of pork carnitas and stewed buche (pork stomach). On Monday, a deep red menudo was on offer, as well.
The reopening at the site of the original El Pueblo Mexican market and bakery took eight years, since the 2017 fire that destroyed the first building. And while local anticipation and impatient speculation have been strong online and elsewhere, nobody is happier about El Pueblo’s new, expanded digs than owner Engelberto Tejeda.
In 1978, at the age of 17, Tejeda immigrated from Jalisco, Mexico, first working in vegetable fields in Stockton before moving to stock fruit and vegetable markets in San Francisco, as well as work at a tortilla factory. Eventually, he worked in wholesale distribution, visiting a dozen or more small Mexican markets a day, and setting up Mexican sections in supermarkets like Lucky’s. By that time, he’d married Maria Molina and they had children, whom Tejeda fondly recalls bringing along to sell snacks and food at weekend flea markets.
“Always I wanna do my store,” Tejeda says, gesturing at the surrounding shelves.
In 1993, after the family moved to Humboldt, where he saw a gap in the market, he set up his shop on Wabash Avenue in Eureka. He moved to the Broadway spot in 1996, operating as the only local panaderia, baking pan dulce and other traditional breads and holiday treats. After the 2017 fire, he moved the baking operation temporarily to Redwood Acres before finding a more settled, though still temporary location on Washington Street. That shop was a tight squeeze, with the ovens in the back and a counter crammed with candy, breads, cheese, salsa, tamales and staples.
“It’s hard to find the money,” says Tejeda, who owns the building, specifically noting it was hard to find a lender who believed he could make the money back.
But once Tejeda opened, the response from customers was immediate. “I love it,” he says. “I just put up the sign and couple hours, this floor was full.”
At the meat counter, a pair of women peruse pastor-seasoned pork and red lengths of longanisa sausages before ordering chorizo and a couple pounds of pig’s feet.
Tejeda points out a couple of harder to find items in the meat case, like seasoned layers of skirt steak and tripe. He says El Pueblo likely has some things another store might not be able to find, or several things that aren’t typically found in one shop. For example, crystalized hunks of sweet potato, lard rendered from frying the chicharron that imparts extra flavor, and large, crisp blue and white Oaxacan tortillas called tlayudas that he admits he doesn’t know how to use. (A staff member explains topping them with beans, salsa, cheese and lettuce is the traditional method.) On the metal shelves behind him more than 25 varieties of hot sauce are lined up like an army. “I’m gonna bring some more,” he says, laughing.
Fans of the El Pueblo truck will be pleased to find all seven of its fresh salsas — from pico de gallo to the oily, dark salsa de aceita — in a refrigerated case. They may find comfort, too, knowing the truck will be in action in the lot until the taqueria at the Broadway end of the building opens. (The truck will likely be relegated to events and festivals after that.) It’s Tejeda’s hope that the spacious taqueria outfitted in stainless steel will open in a few months and capture some of the U.S. Highway 101 traffic that’s currently mostly funneled to fast food restaurants.
Tejeda will still be in the bakery turning out bolillo rolls and conchas, while his wife, Molina, bakes cakes, including whole decorated ones for celebrations. The days are long, he says, typically from 6 a.m. to around 10 p.m., or whenever the work is done.
At this, Tejeda shrugs and gives a grin at the hours, saying, “I made this because I wanna do it.”
Jennifer Fumiko Cahill (she/her) is the arts and features editor at the Journal. Reach her at (707) 442-1400, extension 320, or jennifer@northcoastjournal.com. Follow her on Bluesky @JFumikoCahill.
This article appears in 10 Foliies Anniversary.
Real Mexican sweet bread what a treat. I lived in Sacramento and in south Sacramento was a store that sold all kinds of sweet bread it was fantastic and cheap I loved it. I haven’t had any since 2016. I can’t wait to try this bread. I can already taste it. Yum.