Recipe: Tamales with pork & chili verde
Last year, instead of going Halloween, I celebrated Día de los Muertos instead. Día de los muertos is Spanish for “day of the dead,” a celebration that is not meant to be scary, but rather one of remembrance, honor, and reflection. It is a time when edible offerings are placed next to photos of the beloved deceased on altars in Mexican homes.Growing up in a Buddhist family, we celebrated similarly, except each deceased family member got their own individual day. In Vietnamese, it is called giô~ and is a time of celebration, a memorial of the departed’s death anniversary. It is not meant to be morbid.For Día de los Muertos, I decided to try my hand at making tamales from scratch. Being a Texan (and before that, a Californian) all my life, the Mexican culture is a big part of the region in which I live. This means, I know a thing or two about tamales. (Well, mostly I know they’re made during special occasions and holidays and, due to the laborious effort that goes into making them, are usually a family affair. Oh, and I know they’re delicious.)I really didn’t love tamales until grad school when I had them from a peddler who sold them out of an insulated bag at a local dive bar where my creative writing program held monthly readings. Maybe it was a combination of the four Jameson and ginger ales and the 1 AM hunger pangs, but those tamales were legit. They had the right ratio of filling to masa, they were hot and just greasy enough, flavored with fat and spicy salsa. They were the perfect ending to a night of poetry and lyrical essays.And then my love for tamales was born.Yes, they require more elbow grease than one might want to put into a meal, but you can use it as an excuse to get your friends and family together and put them to work. The reward at the end is totally worth it.First, you need to prepare the masa, or the corn-based dough that comprises the outer part of the tamale. My Mexican chef friend says nowadays, most cooks just buy the prepared masa mix for tamales—making from scratch is for suckers—and then, if they desire, they’ll mix in their own additional fats at home. Some traditionalists/artisans/hipsters, though, still prefer to make their own masa by grinding their own corn, etc. I tried both ways (actually, I had my hipster chef friend, Alvin Schultz from “MasterChef” season 2, make his famous blue masa for me), and honestly, his scratchmade masa was way superior to the store-bought one I picked up from a local Fiesta. Did I buy an off brand? I don’t know. I’d just asked a worker, and he pointed out two different five-pound nondescript bags of white masa, from which I selected the one he denoted as ”mejor.” The pre-made, store-bought masa cooked off with a strange chemical taste—ew. If anyone can tell me which brand of prepared masa I should be buying, please enlighten me in the comments section.Anyway, that’s just the beginning. Then you make thecarnitas (a solid recipe is the carnitas from My Kitchen Escapades). Then you make (or buy) a salsa verde (try the green salsa from Serious Eats). Then you finish off the filling by mixing the carnitas with the peppers, assemble the tamales, steam the tamales. And then you can finally enjoy the tamales. You should’ve worked up quite the appetite by now.Sí, son mucho trabajo, but they’re worth it, if only to say, “Yeah, malditas, I made these tamales myself!