Tamales and tradition: How El Nopal unites Pueblo families each holiday
Nov 24, 2025 11:26AM ● By Pamela S. Thompson

For too many years to count, Pueblo resident Don Landreth, 82, has made a special stop to buy tamales to serve at his family’s Thanksgiving and Christmas celebrations.
Every year, he orders three or four dozen from El Nopal at 1435 E. Evans Ave., along with two quarts of the restaurant’s famous green chile sauce.
Around the Landreth table, 16 to 20 family members gather each holiday, rarely leaving a single tamale behind.
George Torres, owner of Pueblo's El Nopal restaurant, displays the tamales that are in hot demand this holiday season.For many local families, tamales are as much a part of the season as trimming the tree. El Nopal sells tamales year-round, but owner and head chef George Torres, 53, said the volume increases in early fall. This year, he expects to sell between 600 and 800 dozen tamales for the holidays alone.
“It’s really the centerpiece of the Christmas meal,” Torres said. “It’s very humbling to be part of [our customers’] tradition.”
WRAPPED IN TRADITION
Colorado Springs resident John Frederick, 54, grew up in Mexico City, where tamales appeared at nearly every holiday, especially Día de los Muertos and Christmas.
“It’s like pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving. That special meal treat is what we did there,” he said.
El Nopal employees Sally Morales, left and Silvia Chavez, right, spread masa on corn husks with the back of a large spoon.For some families, that tradition begins with the tamalada—a festive tamale-making party that fills the kitchen with laughter, conversation and savory aromas as generations work side by side.
Wrapped in dried corn husks, tamales are made from a corn-based dough called masa and filled with meat, beans or cheese. Preparing them takes many hands. Each person takes on a task: soaking husks, making masa, cooking fillings, assembling and wrapping, then steaming them on the stovetop or in a pressure cooker. Often the batch is so large, extras may be frozen or given as gifts.
Pueblo West resident Josefina Carranza, 53, whips up tamales, mole and buñuelos—“all the traditional Christmas foods of my culture.” For added flavor, she stirs the juices from her meat into the masa.

“It’s a lot of work to make tamales,” she acknowledged. “The preparation takes all day.”
Originally, she sold tamales to teachers at schools, to support her aging mother.
HERITAGE IN HUSKS
Red or green isn’t just a Christmas color choice. It’s the age-old question of which chile sauce tops your tamales.
“El Nopal’s green chile sauce is fantastic,” said Landreth, a regular at El Nopal for nearly seven decades. “They offer three versions—mild, mixed and hot—but I always get the hot.”
Denise Hjelmstad, 66, loves both. As one of 13 children, her childhood Christmases were filled with singing carols at the retirement home and enjoying tamales from a classmate’s family restaurant.
“I made tamales one Christmas because I got the recipe from that restaurant,” she said. “But never again—it was too time-consuming!”
For Hjelmstad, the connection between Christmas and tamales is cultural.
“I’m half Apache, and my mom grew up making tamales, corn tortillas and other foods out of masa,” she said.
Her extended family still favors Mexican food at their Christmas potlucks.
Frederick remembers the work behind tamales, too. When he was 19, he was one of about 15

people in Puebla, Mexico, who would make “tons of tamales” from scratch for a church fundraiser—sweet, green chile with cheese and rajas—strips of roasted poblano peppers.
“Being a gringo, I’d always fold the husk wrong!” Frederick said.
After cooking them in a wood-burning oven, the group peddled the tamales on the streets. Frederick was the top seller.
“I stuck out because I was tall and had blond hair, yet I could speak Spanish,” he said.
THE MATRIARCH OF MASA

Making tamales at El Nopal is a two-day process. The tamale recipe—along with the restaurant’s green chile sauce and other dishes—was passed down from Torres’ grandmother, Rosa, a native of Guanajuato, Mexico, who founded the restaurant in 1955.
As a mother of 14, she mastered the art of stretching ingredients without sacrificing flavor.
“Rosa was definitely the matriarch of it all,” Torres said.
And she was a very hard worker.
“Even during the holidays, it was business as usual,” Torres said. “To this day, I can visualize her sitting at the kitchen table deboning chicken, cleaning beans or spreading masa on the corn husk.”
He still follows her tamale recipe. To get the masa dough to the right consistency, he grinds the corn by hand. For the filling, he adds just the right balance of pork juice, chiles and salt.
For dessert, El Nopal offers a sweet tamale made with sugar, cinnamon, buttermilk, raisins and walnuts.

The restaurant has always been a family affair, with several generations working there over the years. Torres learned his way around the kitchen from his parents, George and Cindy, who owned the restaurant at various times between the 1970s and late 1990s. Today, his wife, Kim, greets guests at the door and often serves them, while their daughter, Kelly, helps in the kitchen.
At home, the Torres family enjoys tamales only occasionally.
“By the time I make and cook 7,000-9,000 of them, I’m pretty well done with tamales for a while,” Torres said.
Still, he looks forward to the holiday rush. It stirs up nostalgia—reminding him of Christmases past, when family crowded into the kitchen and the air was thick with the smell of masa and memories.
Pre-orders for holiday tamales started in early October and continue until Christmas Eve, when El Nopal closes early before taking a two-week holiday break.

Whether you make them yourself or pick them up, unwrap a tamale this holiday season and taste a tradition that’s nourished families
for generations.
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