Not everyone is as lucky as I am. Truly. For not everyone lives just around the corner from Milwaukee's dearest Mexican restaurant, Corazon. While I cannot promise apartments and houses in as lucky a proximity as mine, I
can entice my talented neighbors and friends to come over and cook with me.
(You're welcome.)
Today we're making tamales, something I'd never attempted or seen in action.
We're in my mama's glorious kitchen, and we're joined by our friends Juanita the magnificent (and the know-how behind our work today); Joel the illustrious (and the artistic genius behind this beautiful kitchen); Wendy the darling (co-owner of Cafe Corazon); and Stella the sweetheart (Wendy's lovely and helpful daughter.)
Jack's napping because he is an angel. Jonas and Paw-Paw are occupied with matchbox cars and puzzles.
Let's get to work!
Juanita arrives first, and with Juanita come the ingredients: a slow cooker full of locally raised pork (thanks to Wilson Farm), six pounds of masa (which El-Rey prepared for us), approximately half a pound of dried ancho chiles, a head of garlic and corn husks for wrapping.
(Juanita started the night before with about nine pounds of pork, seasoned it lightly with salt and added a little water. After ten hours on low, the meat was tender and ready to be shredded. With your fingers or a fork, separate the roast into juicy shreds, reserving the liquid.)
We began by soaking the husks in warm water, to make them pliable and easy to handle.
Setting that aside, we turned our attention to the dried chiles. We removed the stems and seeds, and put them in a pot with water to cover. After about fifteen minutes over medium heat, they'd rehydrated. You can (as people have done for centuries) scrape the peppers with a spoon to remove the pulp from the skin, OR you can do as my smart and efficient mama suggested, and puree the whole chili with a little water in your trusty blender. We did that, leaving us with a thick puree of chili. We saved the remaining cooking liquid to steam our eventual tamales. The secret hippie in me really loved the idea of repurposing the liquid from the pork and the water from the chiles. Because I love things like that. (Here's my second whole-hearted endorsement of composting, a practice I picked up from my sweet mama.)
Then the head of garlic was peeled and minced. I gave my little speech of the health virtues of garlic (I swear, it will
demolish a cold) and it was agreed by all that people who don't adore garlic aren't to be trusted.
Next up: the masa. While El-Rey had mixed it with water for us, we needed to enhance the flavor. We added several tablespoons of our chili paste, about half of the minced garlic, and a little bit of both the pork broth and the chili liquid. Joel kneaded it all together, and Juanita seasoned it lightly with salt.
To the meat we added the rest of the garlic, some more of our ancho chili paste, salt to taste and a splash of its cooking liquid.
It's tamale time!
The dining room table was laid with a waterproof cloth, and our collective hands were scrubbed. We moved our bowls of masa and meat to the table, and we took our places.
Juanita demonstrated our goal, and we all watched closely.
On the softened corn husk, we spread about two tablespoons of the masa, starting at the midpoint, and working out and down. Some of us preferred our fingers, and some used the back of a spoon. The goal was an even layer of masa on half of the husk.
On the top of that, right down the center, we spooned about a tablespoon of pork. We folded the left side in, and then the right, finally folding the tamale in half, sealing the filling inside of the husk.
When we ran out of the meat, rather than waste the prepared masa, we mixed up some beans with garlic, chilis and salt. It would be
so easy to make these vegetarian (vegan even!) and I plan on experimenting with different flavor combinations. I have faith in the eventual success of a tomatillo/chicken coupling.
When we'd assembled all of the tamales, we prepared our pots and pans for steaming. We combined our remaining liquids and added water as necessary. We packed our tamales into the steamer baskets, with the seams down.
Depending on the size of the steamer, (we used about four different steamers) they cooked in different times. A medium sized bamboo steamer took about forty minutes, but you'll want to check them. The goal is a husk that peels easily away from the finished tamale.
Don't they look great? So delicious. I loved the pork, but the bean tamales were amazing too. We made about nine dozen, which is an awful lot, so you'll perhaps want to scale that down. Or maybe not. You can do like we did, and make all your neighbors come over with their beautiful children and helping hands.
Tamales were fun. I hope you try them someday. And I hope you have a Juanita, Joel, Wendy, Susie and Stella to help you along the way! (And a Jonas, Paw-Paw and Jack Hazard playing sweetly in the background.) Thanks friends!
xoxo,
Mary Catherine
Next, because I've never really been one for chocolate, I decided on a classic white cake for the bottom layer, gussied up with a splash of bitter almond and spread with the apricot preserves we put up this summer.
