Tamales

I have to admit, I am not a big fan of tamales. For most of you that’s probably not a real problem. Maybe many of you have never even seen or eaten a tamale.

But many of us have a cultural background that mostly seems to be either about annual celebrations or about food and frequently both. So even though not a major part of my life, tamales have always been present. Over the years I’ve consumed a fair amount of them even though they’re not really my favorite thing to eat. So why then when the end of the year holidays approach, do I have this desire to make tamales?

It’s the tradition of course.

Tamales have a long history, far beyond anything to do with me. The tamale is recorded as early as 5000 BC, possibly 7000 BC in Pre-Columbian history. One version of the history has it that initially women were taken along in battle as army cooks to make the masa, or dough, for the tortillas and the meats, stews, drinks, etc. As the warring tribes of the Aztec, Mayan, and Incan cultures grew, a need arose to have a more portable sustaining food. Fast food, if you will. Due to the creativity of the women, the tamale was born. Tamales could be made ahead and packed and warmed as needed. They were steamed, grilled on the comal (grill) over the fire, or put directly on top of the coals to warm, or they were eaten cold. There is no record of which culture actually created the tamale but it is believed that one started and the others soon followed.
The tamale caught on fast and eventually grew in variety and with diversity unknown today. There were tamales with red, green, yellow and black chile, tamales with chocolate, fish tamales, frog, tadpole, mushroom, rabbit, gopher, turkey, bee, egg, squash blossom, honey, ox, seed and nut tamales. Also red fruit tamales, white tamales, yellow tamales, dried, roasted, or stewed meat tamales, bean and rice tamales, among others.
Over the millennia, all the varieties of tamales, which had been made from available ingredients and for local tastes, have been minimized to the most common. In the US mostly being red and green chili, chicken, pork, beef, chili-cheese, sweet and, of late, vegetables. What has also changed is the every- day occurrence of making the tamales. With the preparation being so labor and time intensive, tamales have become special occasion fare, now primarily made for holidays.

This tradition has persisted over the years, with women of a family working together to make the sauces and fillings, preparing the masa, and finally assembling and wrapping the tamales before steaming them in large pots on the stove. The process takes all day, with the preparation often starting
days in advance. It is virtually unheard of to make just a few tamales. In many cases, when they are made, hundreds are made at a time and young and old, family and friends, are invited to tamale fests to share and savor.

So, even though the food is important and appreciated, like so many food traditions it’s as much about the gathering together of family and friends.

In my particular family the tradition has been sporadic. In theory, we are the poster children for this type of activity; American born of immigrant parents. But the drive to assimilate in those early days for my parents created a situation where old country traditions were not as readily welcomed or embraced as they now are. Still, as we children came of age we had a desire and interest in reviving some of those old holiday customs. Some of my best memories as a young woman have to do with being with family and making tamales at Christmastime.

I use the word “making” advisedly. In those days I don’t recall actually making anything. My mother was alive then and as with any beloved family matriarch at these sorts of affairs, she was in charge. What that meant was that she had every step of the process organized. She was involved in all the phases from preparing the fillings to assembly of the tamales to the final steaming.

The filling, typically meat in a red chili sauce but also green chilies with cheese and other vegetarian variations, was prepared a day or two in advance. The masa, or corn meal was either prepared or purchased in advance. Panaderias (bakeries) and carnicerias (butcher shops) in ethnic neighborhoods stock up on everything, planning for Christmas tamale making in the same way that Jewish delis plan for Hanukkah and Passover. The corn husks, used for wrapping, were also purchased there and would have been soaked in warm water to make them a soft and pliable casing for the uncooked tamale filling.

In reality, those that showed up on the day of tamale making were mostly part of an assembly line. This consisted of a table or tables with several bowls of masa and filling, and stacks of cornhusks placed throughout for ease of use by several “assemblers”. The process was usually like this. Select one of the larger corn husks, place in the palm of your hand and evenly spread approximately a half a cup of masa across the middle width of the husk with the back of a spoon or a spatula, enough to smear thinly and cover all the surfaces except for the top and bottom that will fold. Then place roughly 3 heaping tablespoons of the meat and sauce, or cheese and vegetables in the center of the masa. The real pros, of course, have a sense of what is the proper proportion of masa to sauce, something learned only with experience, presumably. Then both sides are folded, one over the other, and the bottom of the husk folds up over those two folds tightly. Some customs have you fold the tamale lengthwise and tie both ends with strips of cornhusk which probably works as well but was not my mother’s way.

Tamales are then steamed in a large pot, layered in a criss-cross pattern in a way that leaves an opening in the center for the steam. When I was a child this process was accomplished by putting dishtowels in the bottom of the pot and keeping 3 -4 inches of water in there, allowing steam to rise. Now this is more easily done with a steamer basket, but the principle is the same. The tamales are covered with a damp kitchen town and the pot is covered while tamales steam, approximately an hour. Because the assembly process takes a while with volunteers coming and going, the making of the tamales lends itself to that sort of communal gathering. The seasoned tamale makers are able to talk and work while turning out perfect tamales every time. A skill I have yet to achieve. Oh I can talk and work, but my finished product shows it!

These days my sister Jeannie plans a regular tamale party in the early part of December. She has included friends as well as family members, many of whom are non-Hispanic so it is an interesting mix and frequently the first exposure of many to tamales or tamale making. My non-Hispanic husband Steve likes to kid that the men know their role in this whole process. That is to stand around in another room, equipped with a bottle of Mexican beer and occasionally pop into the work area and ask “are they done yet?” In reality one of the best tamale makers in the family is brother-in-law Jess, who whips them out with the best of them. It’s always obvious by looking at the tamales who was responsible for each one. The perfect even ones are made by Jess, and my older sisters Cora and Isabel. The lumpy, uneven, misshapen ones come from everyone else, including me.

The workers need to be rewarded though so we do not wait until all the tamales are completed before cooking them. As soon as there are enough to fill a steamer, the cooking starts. Then when all the assembly is complete, which is when all the ingredients have been used up; there will be food to eat.

As with most of these types of get-togethers, other food is brought to the party by various family members and also provided by the hostess. Casseroles, rice, enchiladas, salads and other good things add to the enjoyment, with the centerpiece always being those tamales.

Everyone who comes, whether they helped or not, gets to take home some tamales. Which brings me to the old days when the tamale queen was my mom. I never had to do anything. I just got to stand around, eating and drinking and visiting with relatives. At the end of the evening my mother would have my tamales all packed up, waiting, for me to take them home for another day’s enjoyment. I sure do miss those days.