By Lindsay Sterling
Forty-seven days before Christmas, Garnet
Hill was already asking, do I want a felted advent calendar? The deep psychological
warfare of the holidays had begun. From that moment on, every piece of mail,
every song, every wreath, every non-year-round light would poke and rattle me: how
are you going surprise twenty people on your list with great gifts -- without
going into debt or driving yourself crazy?
Then my Nicaraguan cooking teacher
saved me. “I’m going to make some tamales,” she said, “You wanna learn?” I’ve
always wanted to learn how to make tamales. And homemade tamales would make
great Christmas presents for a host of reasons. A) Traditionally they’re eaten
on Christmas in Mexico. B) They freeze well, and are easy for recipients to
steam and serve whenever they want. C) They look like little presents, wrapped
in cornhusks – even tied with a cornhusk bow. D) Friends and relatives will
never guess what you’re giving them.
At her condo Jenny soaked the cornhusks
and mild chili peppers separately in hot water, and cooked off a pound of
smoked bacon, saving the melted fat. She boiled the chicken in water. When the
chicken was cooked through, she told me to put my pen down and mix the chicken
broth into the corn masa. “Don’t be escared,” she said, knowing from experience
that American cooks scare easily. “This is food.” As in, not dynamite. When the
flour wasn’t powdery any more, but clumpy, she poured the melted bacon fat onto
the masa clumps and told me to knead it with my hands into dough. My jaw
dropped at the amount of bacon fat. “This is not diet food,” she said. “This is
not diet food.” I repeated, both of
us laughing. You can make tamales with vegetable oil, but if you want the best
flavor, bacon fat is best.
Blended in the blender, the soaked
chili skins, onion, garlic and water, whirred into a tantalizing, red sauce. She
simmered the cooked chicken in this sauce, and then shredded the chicken by
pulling at it with a fork. She opened up one of the cornhusks, and pressed the
masa dough into a rectangular shape in the top half of the husk. On top of the
masa, she made a small pile of shredded chicken meat topped with with sliced onion,
red pepper, jalapeno, fresh cilantro and olives. Then she rolled the two husk
sides together and flipped up the bottom so she had a little packet. You make a
bunch of these, and steam them in a steamer basket for twenty minutes. They’re
great served with beans and a salad. I asked sheepishly if I might have a
second tamale. She replied, “I can eat half a dozen. Do you think it’s too
much?”
“In Nicaragua we make tamales with
banana leaves instead of corn husks and have different fillings. We call them
nakatameles.” She learned how to make these Mexican tamales from Mexican
friends she had when she lived in California. If you are Mexican or know one,
please let me know if this all sounds right. Jenny is a great cook who is
passionate about the details, but I prefer to learn Mexican food from Mexicans
for authenticity’s sake. After somehow magically finding cooks from 53
countries to feature here, we still have about 143 more countries yet to cover to
complete the whole world. Do you know a cook who could be featured here? Please
introduce me at lindsay@lindsaysterling.com.
Make Christmas Tamales for Presents (and eat some while we're at it)
Cooking Class, Dec. 20, 2013
Freeport Community Center, Freeport, ME 04032
6-9pm
reservations: lindsay@lindsaysterling.com
