Most of us think of salsa as a chips-and-dip situation, but its story in Mexico starts way, way back… long before the restaurant bowl showed up. Archaeologists trace early salsa to around 500 BC–300 AD, when people were roasting chilis, tomatillos, and wild tomatoes on clay griddles and grinding them together on a metate. No blenders, no exact measurements: just fire, stone, and whatever the day’s harvest looked like.
Back then, salsa wasn’t a “dip.” It was a daily seasoning that brought brightness and heat to maize, greens, and meat. Chilis were a huge part of the food system, used for flavor, health, and ritual. Tomatillos provided acidity before limes ever existed in the region. Epazote added that leafy, slightly funky note you still taste in some traditional dishes. Salsa has been part of Mexican life for thousands of years because it solved a simple problem: how to make everyday food taste better.
So when I made this salsa the OG way (only native ingredients, no measuring cups) it honestly felt refreshing. People back then weren’t chasing perfect ratios; they just grabbed what they had, roasted it, crushed it, tasted it, and kept going. After making it a thousand times, they probably had a good internal sense of what “right” tasted like anyway.
And you know what?
Spooned over my meat, this OG salsa was legitimately next-level.
It brought this smoky-green brightness that made everything taste… alive.
But then… and I’m gonna be honest… the leftovers on a tortilla chip later were just… meh. Fine, edible, but not the “wow! amazing” moment from earlier. You win some, you lose some. Ancient people weren’t making salsa for tortilla chips anyway; it was meant for warm, fresh food straight from the hearth.
That’s why I’m sharing both versions here:
- The true 0 BC OG salsa, made only with ingredients that existed at the time
- And a modern version, which keeps the spirit of the original but tastes great on chips, tacos, bowls, and whatever else you throw at it
Both bring you close to the roots of salsa, just in different ways, and both remind us that this sauce has been part of Mexican cooking for over two thousand years.
🌶️ For the OG Version
Let’s call it a “chili mash” rather than “salsa,” to keep language true to the time.
Ingredients
A Quick Note on the Ingredients: As mentioned in the story above, back in this time period, recipes didn’t exist in the structured way we know them today. People used whatever they had on hand, and measurements were more of a “feel it out” situation. If there’s an ingredient below that doesn’t appeal to you or isn’t available at your store, don’t stress, just skip it, find a similar substitute, or let this recipe inspire you to add your own twist. So embrace the spirit of the age and make it yours!
- Fresh or dried chili peppers
- Tomatillo or small wild tomatoes
- Salt crystals
- Epazote or avocado leaf
- Optional: sour fruit pulp (like nanche or guava) to balance heat
Preparation:
- Chilis were roasted briefly on a hot stone or comal.
- Tomatillos or tomatoes were blistered and softened.
- Everything was ground by hand on a metate with coarse salt and herbs.
- The paste was served in a small clay bowl, spooned onto corn cakes or meat.
🌶️ For the Modern Interpretation
Let’s translate that flavor to a home kitchen while honoring the same balance.
“Ancestral Green Salsa”
Ingredients:
- 4 tomatillos, husked
- 1 jalapeño or serrano chili
- 1 clove garlic
- Pinch of sea salt
- 1 Tbsp pepitas
- 1 Tbsp lime juice
- 1 Tbsp fresh epazote or cilantro
Preparation:
- Roast tomatillos and chili until charred.
- Blend or crush with salt, pepitas, herbs, and lime until coarse.
- Serve slightly warm with pork, sweet potatoes, or corn cakes.
Time Traveling Table 
Leave a comment