Your first memories of Pace

My parents moved to Texas in the 60's and when we would go to visit, they introduced us to PACE. We started buying a case at a time to take back to Tenn. because it wasn't sold there. Several years later we moved to Florida and couldn't get it again, so we would stock up in Texas when we visited. One day I asked a grocery manager about getting it, he checked into it and BAM we got it. We have been using and enjoying PACE for over 40 years and love it and use it in many ways. Thanks PACE for making our food delicious.

I was born and reared in San Antonio, Texas, where Pace Pacante was "born." My fondest memories of Pace Pacante Sauce was when my wife and I, both of whom were students Southwest Texas State Teachers College (now Texas State University/San Marcos), would go back home to my parent's home in San Antonio and enjoy the delicious hamburgers and Mexican food my mother would make with Pace Pacante Sauce. That was back in 1948. We continued to enjoy my mother's hamburgers, Mexican food, and practically every other food served with Pace Pacante Sauce until she died. My wife and I have now been married for over 60 years, and I can't remember a time when we didn't have Pace Pacante Sauce in our ice-box (literally, ice-box) or refrigerator. In fact, as I write these memories, we have a 4 lb. jug of medium Pace's Pacante Sauce in our refrigerator.

Thanks for those great memories.

Frank L. Kuenstler (flk@att.net)

I'm so sorry to hear about your wife Vince. I didn't mean to stir up any painful memories.

What are your first or fondest memories that involve Pace? Let's take a trip down memory lane, and perhaps reminisce about some of the good 'ol days. A sucker for nostalgia, I love talking about and reading this kind of stuff. I'll go first.

I remember one of the very first times I saw a Pace ad on TV. It was one of those cowboy ads, where one of them tries to substitute Pace for a brand that's made in New York City and gets lynched for it. I was pretty young that time, and couldn't help but let my imagination run wild with the concept. I lived in Georgia at the time, but have seem many movies and news segments about NYC to have some pretty distorted ideas about the city. My train of thought wondered off to dark graffiti'ed allies where gangsters and pimps crowd the corners, and rows of vegetables grow in rusty garbage cans. I imagined a truck coming around with homeless people trailing behind it and harvesting the tomatoes, peppers and onions with their dirty hands. I could imagine that some of them were hungry and would take occational bites out of the veggies before tossing them in the truck. I had to check the fridge and make sure that the salsa that we had for lunch a few days back was not made in New York City. I dug around and found the jar. To my great relief I saw that it was in fact Pace Picante Sause! Still, I had to be sure, so I tried my best to read the small print on the label (I was not that good at reading yet). After about 5 minutes of standing there with the fridge door open and trying to string the letter together, I had my answer. San Antonio! Whew.