OUR STORY

THAT’S WHERE THIS STARTED.

I landed in Pacific Beach in the summer of 2011, chasing reinvention and something new. San Diego pulled me in fast, the mix of cultures, the flavors, the Latin energy. And the farther I got from home, the closer I felt to it.

Before a house party one night, I called my mom and asked for my grandmother’s mojo recipe. I made papas with mojo, and people went quiet, then curious. They tried to name it. Not curry. Not hot sauce. Just something they hadn’t tasted before. “Awesome” became the word I heard most.

In the Canary Islands, mojo sauce isn’t just a sauce. It’s the sauce. Every island has its twist, every home swears theirs is the best. It traces back to the islands’ original people, built from simple ingredients and bold instinct. Over time, mojo traveled, especially through Canarian migration, shaping versions across the Caribbean and beyond. Growing up, I didn’t think twice about it. Leaving changed that.

I wanted people to taste where I come from and to put the Canary Islands on the map. I wanted a full food truck, but the investment was heavy, so I started smaller. A custom golf cart. A few jars. A bold idea. Canary Mojo is heritage, rebellion, and impossible to ignore. A taste of home, rebuilt in San Diego. An invitation to open your mind. To taste something real. Let it change the way you gather around food.

Today, that invitation comes from two pairs of hands. My son, Matias, and I craft every batch to remind families that the best things in life are still made by hand, shared around a table, and passed down to the next generation.

Carrying the roots of the Canary Islands, Chile, and Argentina while growing up here in San Diego, he is learning that you don't need a screen to understand the world. Canary Mojo is no longer just my way of remembering home; it’s my way of teaching him work ethic, manners, and real connection, batch by batch, bottle by bottle, so he can build his own future while staying deeply rooted in where we come from.