Imagine this: Families, united by tradition, patiently waiting for hours, even camping overnight, just to get their hands on a specific ingredient. This isn't for a luxury item, but for something far more essential: the masa for their beloved tamales. This is the reality for thousands of families who flock to Amapola Market in Los Angeles during the holiday season.
Christina Chavarria, already having made nearly 200 tamales, was back at Amapola Market bright and early. Why? Because the masa, the corn dough that forms the heart of a tamale, is simply the best. It's perfectly seasoned and ready to go, making the long wait worth it.
During the holiday season, the market's three locations become a hub of activity, with people lining up for the freshly made masa. It's a tradition, a ritual. Families gather, often in an assembly-line fashion, spreading the masa on corn husks and filling them with savory or sweet ingredients.
Christina is excited to make them with her mother and her 26-year-old daughter. Her mother brings roasted chiles from El Paso, Texas, adding a touch of family heritage from Chihuahua, Mexico.
Amapola Market calls it the annual “masa pilgrimage.” CEO Rolando Pozos views it as more of a responsibility than a job. Some customers travel from as far as Bakersfield, California, or Las Vegas. Many arrive before dawn, hours before the store opens. One group even drove from Hesperia, about 60 miles (95 kilometers) away and camped overnight to be at the Downey location early Tuesday.
Pozos understands the importance of this tradition. In 2016, when the market sold spoiled masa that made people sick, the loyal customers declared Christmas was ruined. The company vowed to do better. Pozos, known to the regulars, greets them personally, often demonstrating the art of making tamales on local TV. He's proud to have kept prices stable for the third year, as families feel the pinch of inflation.
Melissa Perkins, whose family has used Amapola's masa for nearly 30 years, highlights the importance of the masa. The production line now includes almost two dozen siblings, nephews, aunts, and uncles. The store sells savory and sweet masa, and the employees start producing bags of masa at 3 a.m. daily.
In the back, cooked corn is ground up in massive vats, mixed with salt, lard, and other ingredients. The bowls are lifted high and poured into a giant funnel that fills bags, which are then double-bagged. Fresh tortillas pour onto a conveyor belt. Giselle Salazar, along with her sister and cousin, arrived at 4:15 a.m. in pajamas, waiting in line for more pineapple masa.
They had already filled a small wagon and shopping cart with almost 100 pounds (45 kilos) of masa. Consistency is key for tamales to cook through properly.
Mark Monroy is passing on the tradition to his 9-year-old daughter Avery. He has memories of going to Amapola as a child.
"You can have a little bit of presents or maybe not even any presents for certain years, but you'll always have a tamale to unwrap," Monroy said.
But here's where it gets controversial... Do you think the quality of the masa truly makes that much of a difference?
And this is the part most people miss... What family traditions do you hold dear, and how do you ensure they continue through the generations? Share your thoughts in the comments below!
