Pundits in search of a pithy metaphor for the Latinization of the United States often seize upon the parable of the two competing condiments. As the story goes, the year was 1992 and Packaged Facts, New York, reported a 14% rise in salsa sales over the previous year. But while the spicy sauce raked in a record $640 million, sales of ketchup, America's best seller for nearly a century, lagged behind at a mere $600 million. To be fair, the higher price of salsa relative to ketchup softens some of the statistic's punch. But ever since, everyone from demographers to media executives to the very food manufacturers who produced the condiments in the first place accepted salsa's supremacy as a sign of things to come. For despite its oversimplification, the story encapsulates a larger truth about the changing flavor of North American life: Hispanics are the country's largest, fastest-growing ethnic minority. At nearly 40 million strong already -- 44 million, if you count Puerto Rico -- the demographic is increasing at a rate of 7%, or 500,000 households, annually, outpacing the U.S. Census Bureau's 1999 forecasts. And with their growth rate expected to exceed the general population's by at least a factor of 10 in coming years, Hispanics will account for one-third of the nation by 2030. Translated into dollar amounts, that works out to a collective annual buying power estimated at $580 billion, approximately 8% more of which goes to weekly household food purchases in non-Hispanic homes. Salsa: a case studySo does salsa's success send a message to food manufacturers about the value of courting Hispanic-American food dollars? Yes, but the message isn't as straightforward as manufacturers might think. The northward spread of Hispanic culture may have set the stage for salsa's stellar sales, but Hispanic-American consumers haven't necessarily driven those sales themselves. "The biggest consumers of canned or jarred salsas are Anglos," says Veronica Kraushaar, consultant to Texa Sweet Citrus Marketing Inc., Mission, TX, and principle of Vanguard Ethnic Marketing, Scottsdale and Nogales, AZ. In the May 1997 issue of The Atlantic Monthly, Michael J. Weiss reported that demographic surveys ascribe the greatest U.S. salsa consumption to two groups: "upscale Anglo families, who can afford to buy a condiment that is more expensive than ketchup and who appreciate salsa's low-fat content," and what he calls "downscale Latino families," for whom salsa is a staple that they'd rather prepare from scratch. That way, Latinos can calibrate the sauce's flavor to their own tastes, which may differ markedly from store-bought salsas. As Joe Bavone, R&D manager, Kerry Americas, Waukesha, WI, explains, North American consumers adopted salsa early in their exploration of Latin-American cuisines, so the product "was never really developed here with Latinos' tastes in mind. It was essentially homogenized to American tastes to appeal to a broader spectrum of non-Latinos." In fact, he quips, North American salsa may have supplanted ketchup because, "essentially, it's just another variety of ketchup" -- a sweetish, mild, tomato-based sauce. "You can get mild, medium, and hot now, but even the hot isn't necessarily as hot as you would find in parts of Mexico." Further complicating matters, salsa -- Spanish for sauce -- can mean anything from the caramel poured over ice cream to a scorching paste made from dried chiles and vinegar. The chunky concoction of fresh tomatoes, onions, and cilantro familiar to us represents only a sliver of the salsa spectrum -- and a predominantly Mexican one, at that. More accurately called a pico de gallo, this particular salsa wouldn't strike much of a chord with immigrants from South America or the Spanish-speaking Caribbean, who are more likely to equate "salsa" with a parsley-speckled chimichurri, or a citrusy mojo criollo. It's no coincidence, Weiss notes, that two U.S. cities with atypically low salsa consumption rates -- Miami and New York City -- also host sizable Cuban and Puerto Rican communities. One name, many culturesSo while demographers might see the saga of salsa as a snapshot of America's future, food manufacturers would be wise to heed it as a cautionary tale about the complexity of developing products to please the Hispanic market. "You have so many question marks hanging over you when you're designing for Hispanic Americans," says Leigh Enderle, market research manager, Givaudan Flavors, Cincinnati. First question: Who are Hispanic Americans? In the strictest sense, the term "Hispanic" unites as an ethnicity those who trace their ancestry to the countries of the Spanish-speaking world. But given the reach of Spain's colonial empire, such a classification hardly narrows things down, lumping together nearly 20 nationalities spread across the tropics, mountains, desserts, coasts and grasslands of the western hemisphere. Such a broad definition inevitably masks local distinctions -- and in the process, confuses outsiders and creates tension among those so broadly defined. "Some level of resentment of the term exists for some members of the population identified as Hispanic," says Don McCaskill, vice president for research, Riceland Foods, Inc., Stuttgart, AK. "Those individuals make a case that it generalizes when, in reality, several distinctly different populations exist: those of Mexican, Puerto Rican and Cuban descent; Central American refugees and immigrants; and South American immigrants." Even the Spanish heritage that unites them survives only to varying degrees and in a mixture of dialects. Moreover, Latin Americans have often distinguished themselves from each other by reacting against their shared inheritance. Local responses to the Roman Catholic Church, race, politics, capitalism and the sheer weight of pre- and post-Columbian history have all carved out unique identities for Latin Americans that defeat the notion of a monolithic Hispanic culture. "Bolivians and Peruvians are strongly influenced by a mixture of Incan and Spanish culture, whereas Colombians, Venezuelans and Panamanians show an African influence," explains Lionel Vil, R&D director for seasonings, Kerry Ingredients. Spain's former Caribbean colonies also cling to African traditions, while visitors to Chile and Argentina comment on how European their city squares and temperate climate feel. And in Mexico and Central America, the legacy of the Aztec and Mayan empires continues to permeate spirituality, literature, architecture and the timbre of everyday life.
Comments
Similar ArticlesLatest ArticlesSubscribe toMobile Media SnapsText FOODPRODUCT to 41411 to receive this media snap on your smart phone Image GalleriesBuyer's Guidefeatured links |
SupplySide
Crossing Borders: Designing for the Hispanic Demographic
Posted in
Articles,
Market Trends,
Topics
