From the bright yellow and red facade to the myriad goods and
services it offers, El Charrito is not your run-of-the-mill grocery
store.
From the bright yellow and red facade to the myriad goods and services it offers, El Charrito is not your run-of-the-mill grocery store.
Located in the northern part of downtown Gilroy, the small grocery store was first established about half a century ago, estimates Hortensia Ariza, 54, who with her husband, Leoncio, 56, owns the store. They have three grown children and emigrated from Madrid, Spain, in 1972. Four years later, the couple took over El Charrito.
Rows of colorful piñatas hang from the ceiling, a glass counter displays an assortment of jewelry and large trophies from past sponsorships line one wall. A large, square Pepsi clock hangs in one corner of the store, overlooking display cabinets of curly-haired dolls and religious icons. A blue “CARNICERIA” banner directs shoppers to the meat counter, which the Arizas expanded when they assumed ownership.
Another area of expansion is tucked behind double doors at the back of the store: It’s a mini-tortilla factory.
Housed in a room across from two giant refrigerators, shiny stainless steel machines churn out tortillas daily for the store’s shelves. Prior to the Arizas’ ownership, this was done on a smaller scale.
The first step in the process is to combine 50-pound bags of “MASA MIXTA” with hot water. Antonio Gustio, 63, who has been working at El Charrito for 15 years, pours a bag and a half into a machine that looks like a regular household mixer on steroids. Gustio punches a button and the three-foot-wide bowl rotates while a long spiral hook twirls and folds the dough. Water is added, and when Gustio is satisfied with the dough’s consistency, it’s moved to the next machine.
While the dough is being prepared, another employee, Broulio Lopez, 28, is busy prepping the second machine. He paints a cloudy water mixture onto conveyer belts and turns on the heat. The dough is piled on one end of the machine and pressed through two large rollers, where it is simultaneously cut before emerging as perfectly shaped tortillas.
These are dropped onto conveyer belts and baked as they pass through. Then they are transferred to another system of conveyer belts, where they are cooled with the help of a large fan positioned overhead.
Gustio and Lopez are waiting when the tortillas come out of the machine, expertly grabbing and stacking them into neat six-inch high piles. The stacks are stuffed into plastic bags, each proudly displaying the red and yellow “El Charrito Market” logo, and twist-tied.
Gustio estimates that they make about 25 bags in one round. Each bag of about 60 goes for $1.60. They can also be special ordered for parties.
If making their own tortillas each morning weren’t enough, El Charrito also offers its customers a number of financial services.
The Arizas have an informal credit system with longtime patrons based on a little blue accounting book, signatures and good faith. In the book, cashier Leoncio Ariza writes the customer’s name and items, and the debt is honored on a monthly basis. Occasionally, a customer who has forgotten to bring money will also be given credit and a couple days grace.
Hortensia Ariza acknowledges that it’s an imperfect system, as sometimes customers do not hold up their end of the deal. But those instances are exceptions to the rule.
“Longtime customers always pay you back,” she said.
In addition to the usual produce and household items found at mainstream grocery stores, customers can also pay utility bills at El Charrito. Little wonder longtime customer Rosa Serrano says she comes to El Charrito for “everything.” She pays her PG&E and telephone bills and pops in every now and then to pick up a $5 phone card. She has been visiting the market for more than 20 years and enjoys the friendly atmosphere.
“There are nice people here,” she said.
El Charrito also caters to its customers’ needs in other ways. Most of the market’s patrons are recent immigrants who maintain strong ties to their homelands in Latin America. Leoncio Ariza estimates that 97 percent of their clientele speaks only Spanish.
The store helps connect people in the United States to family and friends in Latin America via Mexico Express and Orlandi Valuta, two money transfer services. El Charrito also carries international phone cards.
In other less tangible ways, El Charrito also serves as a point of connection across borders. The store stocks an abundance of items that would typically be found on small ethnic food shelves in mainstream grocery chains, if at all.
Jalapeño peppers are sold at El Charrito in cans of varying sizes and come whole or chopped. Customers can take their pick from La Morena, El Mexicano, Embasa or any of the other eight brands the store carries. Colorful bottles of Jarritos, the popular Mexican soft drink, fill an entire shelf in one cooler. Whether a thirsty shopper craves strawberry, tamarind, guava or grapefruit, it’s all there. Soft and crumbly Spanish breads such as mantecados and polvorones can be found in the baked goods section, along with other pink, yellow and brown breads.
Basic ingredients are covered well, and so are the specialty items the store is famous for.
“We have things that people don’t find in too many places,” Hortensia Ariza said.
El Charrito is located at 7638 Monterey St. and is open from 7 a.m. to 9 p.m. daily. For more information, call 842-3659.
