For me, Tamales remind me of Christmas in California, my family is not from Mexico, but for a good part of my life I have lived in areas that were if not a majority Mexican then pretty close, and Tamales are a decidedly Christmas fare in these areas, the basic tradition as I remember it was for all the women in the family to be in the kitchen making huge mounds of Tamales on Christmas Eve, (while all the men drank until they passed out).
Tamales are a labor intensive food, you boil the husks, prepare the filling, and take mounds of wet masa and form it into Tamales, then wrap the corn husks around the filled masa and steam them, sound easy? my guess is its not, but really I cant say for sure, the one and only time I was lucky enough to be invited to one of these fetes I was forced to display my Machismo and Bravado with the Men by drinking way to much and passing out in the yard. (freshly made Tamales do make an excellent hangover food that I can say for sure)
there are so many types of tamales, there are sweet corn, pineapple, queso, pork, chicken, you name it, and every single one seems to explode with flavor when you bite into it, they are a simple food, and when you bite into your first one you are hooked, your teeth easily cut through the soft masa, and when the filling hits your tongue its a little taste of heaven.
Oaxaca, Mexico, its an amazing state, so much beauty and such a laid back atmosphere, I really love it here, when I leave my house there are mangoes everywhere, just pick one up off te ground and eat around the birds bites and breakfast is ready, so as I sit eating my mango, I spy the nephew of the owners of the little beach shack we stayed at leave the palapa armed with a slingshot, its sort of odd, but there are lots of odd things happening down here (like people eating fried grasshoppers) anyways he leaves with a slingshot and returns less than a mango later carrying two very large, very dead iguanas by the tail.
If you know anything about me you know I am curious about nearly everything (I always have a million questions about the most unimportant things)so I ask how they are prepared and he says en Caldo (soup) it sounds really good to me and I want to try it, so there I sit a few minutes later, washing my clothes and out to the cistern comes the Jefa (boss), she quickly begins to gut the iguanas and I ask if I can watch, she warns me of blood, and I tell her its OK I am brave (what possesses me to stare mesmerized at an indigenous woman deftly butchering Iguanas I do not know) what I do know is that I really want to taste that soup. Unfortunately for me an invitation never materializes, but in the back of my head somewhere I make a mental note to try these guys (iguanas) at my earliest opportunity (whenever that may be).
If we fast forward a couple days I am sitting in a great little Cafe in the town of Mazunte Oaxaca MXI have chosen to stop here and stay a month or two, and Edward has connected with friends from Tadousac Quebec, and a new friend from Copenhagen Denmark, two of these folks happen to be restauranteurs (all of us share a passion for food of all types), as we all eat lasagna made with fresh pasta we talk of local flavors in the Mexican style, the restauranteurs are still a little hung over from their first Mezcal experience (which I thankfully missed out on) we talk of Grasshoppers, Iguanas and Mezcal, and we all decide that our next chance we are ready to try Iguana (tastes like chicken?!)
We finish our meal and say our goodbyes, they are headed back to the cold of Canada, and I am sleeping in my new house for the first night, Ed and Tini are exploring their new friendship, the world is right tonight.
I sleep well, when I wake I do my dailys, check my e mail, eat something and head for the beach, the water could not be better, the sun is scorching, the water is cool and refreshing, I float solo, letting the gentle currents cleanse my soul, I am not sure I could be much more content, I swim and float alone for an hour or so, then I am joined by some of my new friends, we float happily together and appreciate all the gifts we receive, (I for one am not adept enough at mathematics to count all my blessings), lets just settle for life is good! as the tide begins to rise its time for me to get back on the beach and move my chair so the sea does not swallow it whole.
We are 3 as we head up the beach, Nzingha (a captivating well travelled african goddess who’s smile is totally mesmerizing, she is here writing a novel) (an industrial engineer from France who is great fun and speaks spanish faster than a local) and I we make our way to where our new friend Tini (or danish goddess if you prefer) is sunning herself, as usual I am lucky, I am on an amazing beach, accompanied by 3 new friends, we sit laughing and talking music, there are vendors of all types, hammocks, jewelry, clothes, a little of everything, we respectfully decline all offers until I spot the Tamale vendors, the two women approach us offering tamales of all sorts for 5 pesos (less than 50 cents) they have pina (pineapple) dulce (sweet corn) queso (cheese) pollo (chicken) and Iguana, I think to myself (excellent, I can be brave, Tamales are filled with a soft center, the meat inside is generally stewed, so I wont have to face my fears of eating things that look like living things yet again), at first I am the only taker, evidently no one is feeling brave today(despite my words of “encouragement”), Tini declines, then decides to order one so we can discuss the experience, Nzinga is discussing her first experience with Iguana in great detail, talking of how when she tried it she really enjoyed it without knowing what it was, it was fried and she believed it to be fish (until she pulled an obvious shoulder joint from her mouth) when I open my husk, I see what appears to be any one of the many hundreds of tamales I have eaten in my life, I am feeling brave, I am trying something strange, something new (that I am told is delicious), something that just may become a new favorite food (like caribbean fish head soup). So in my hand I hold the Tamale and before I can bring it to my mouth a picture of a prehistoric looking Iguana flashes through my head (not good) truthfully sometimes chicken even freaks me out (pull it together man you have two beautiful women and a man in your company, dont be such a wuss) I clear the thoughts from my head and tentatively have a little nibble off the side (not bad, certainly not amazing and delicious, but not all bad) I am feeling OK about this, I decide that a nibble is not really the way to go and get ready for a big bite, about that time I look down and notice that in fact the dark substance oozing out of my first nibble is covered with scales (I see this and think about my friend Randy cooking up crispy salmon skin, which I LOVE) so here goes, my hand brings the tamale to my lips, now its all mind over matter, I imagine the flavorful salmon skin, crispy and crunchy, an explosion of taste in my mouth, my teeth sink into the soft corn, and into the dark skin ( no gagging, bite down) about that time I hear (and feel) the sickening crunch of tiny bones in my mouth and sorta slimy scaly skin on my tongue (this aint no chicken wing, and its certainly not crunchy salmon skin) what is in my mouth is a slimy, mostly flavorless bit o nasty, my bravado is gone, I am silently gagging, wondering how mortified I will actually feel if Tini enjoys hers, so I look up to see this beautiful blonde woman in her late twenties, or possibly early thirties wearing a black bikini, she is fit, she fills the bikini perfectly, her smile is contagious, she is smart, fun and laughs easily! Her classic beauty turns heads on the beach, she has taken a small bite, and before I can think (its hard to think when you are dry heaving) I look down at her tamale and say something like OMG are those feet? OK so now its her turn, she is kicking her legs trying to get her gag reflex under control, it looks something like the exaggerated gross out that you so often see with teenage kids, but I know this is no exaggeration, (I would have kicked my feet if it was possible), no this is nasty, I set it into motion, and now I have elevated it to the next level, I wonder if we are about to have barf o rama, me, i am lucky I am not covered in my own vomit, we try and calm down and are successful, no one has blown chunks, now its all about disposing of the evidence before the tamale vendors get back, luckily a beautiful brown dog shows up and is happy to eat my Tamale, (I saved Tinis for photos). We need liquid refreshment, gotta get that taste out of our mouths so we head for the palapa to try another new taste sensation, a Michelada (something that vaguely resembles a red beer or clamato, but is basically bad beer made hot with picante, whe it hits my stomache I secretly vow revenge on Nzingha, (she recommended the drink and spoke fondly of eating iguana and must be stopped before she strikes again) after trying unsuccessfully to pass my Michelada off onto a newly arrived Edward, I order a lemonade, and think better thoughts....
Tamales are a labor intensive food, you boil the husks, prepare the filling, and take mounds of wet masa and form it into Tamales, then wrap the corn husks around the filled masa and steam them, sound easy? my guess is its not, but really I cant say for sure, the one and only time I was lucky enough to be invited to one of these fetes I was forced to display my Machismo and Bravado with the Men by drinking way to much and passing out in the yard. (freshly made Tamales do make an excellent hangover food that I can say for sure)
there are so many types of tamales, there are sweet corn, pineapple, queso, pork, chicken, you name it, and every single one seems to explode with flavor when you bite into it, they are a simple food, and when you bite into your first one you are hooked, your teeth easily cut through the soft masa, and when the filling hits your tongue its a little taste of heaven.
Oaxaca, Mexico, its an amazing state, so much beauty and such a laid back atmosphere, I really love it here, when I leave my house there are mangoes everywhere, just pick one up off te ground and eat around the birds bites and breakfast is ready, so as I sit eating my mango, I spy the nephew of the owners of the little beach shack we stayed at leave the palapa armed with a slingshot, its sort of odd, but there are lots of odd things happening down here (like people eating fried grasshoppers) anyways he leaves with a slingshot and returns less than a mango later carrying two very large, very dead iguanas by the tail.
If you know anything about me you know I am curious about nearly everything (I always have a million questions about the most unimportant things)so I ask how they are prepared and he says en Caldo (soup) it sounds really good to me and I want to try it, so there I sit a few minutes later, washing my clothes and out to the cistern comes the Jefa (boss), she quickly begins to gut the iguanas and I ask if I can watch, she warns me of blood, and I tell her its OK I am brave (what possesses me to stare mesmerized at an indigenous woman deftly butchering Iguanas I do not know) what I do know is that I really want to taste that soup. Unfortunately for me an invitation never materializes, but in the back of my head somewhere I make a mental note to try these guys (iguanas) at my earliest opportunity (whenever that may be).
If we fast forward a couple days I am sitting in a great little Cafe in the town of Mazunte Oaxaca MXI have chosen to stop here and stay a month or two, and Edward has connected with friends from Tadousac Quebec, and a new friend from Copenhagen Denmark, two of these folks happen to be restauranteurs (all of us share a passion for food of all types), as we all eat lasagna made with fresh pasta we talk of local flavors in the Mexican style, the restauranteurs are still a little hung over from their first Mezcal experience (which I thankfully missed out on) we talk of Grasshoppers, Iguanas and Mezcal, and we all decide that our next chance we are ready to try Iguana (tastes like chicken?!)
We finish our meal and say our goodbyes, they are headed back to the cold of Canada, and I am sleeping in my new house for the first night, Ed and Tini are exploring their new friendship, the world is right tonight.
I sleep well, when I wake I do my dailys, check my e mail, eat something and head for the beach, the water could not be better, the sun is scorching, the water is cool and refreshing, I float solo, letting the gentle currents cleanse my soul, I am not sure I could be much more content, I swim and float alone for an hour or so, then I am joined by some of my new friends, we float happily together and appreciate all the gifts we receive, (I for one am not adept enough at mathematics to count all my blessings), lets just settle for life is good! as the tide begins to rise its time for me to get back on the beach and move my chair so the sea does not swallow it whole.
We are 3 as we head up the beach, Nzingha (a captivating well travelled african goddess who’s smile is totally mesmerizing, she is here writing a novel) (an industrial engineer from France who is great fun and speaks spanish faster than a local) and I we make our way to where our new friend Tini (or danish goddess if you prefer) is sunning herself, as usual I am lucky, I am on an amazing beach, accompanied by 3 new friends, we sit laughing and talking music, there are vendors of all types, hammocks, jewelry, clothes, a little of everything, we respectfully decline all offers until I spot the Tamale vendors, the two women approach us offering tamales of all sorts for 5 pesos (less than 50 cents) they have pina (pineapple) dulce (sweet corn) queso (cheese) pollo (chicken) and Iguana, I think to myself (excellent, I can be brave, Tamales are filled with a soft center, the meat inside is generally stewed, so I wont have to face my fears of eating things that look like living things yet again), at first I am the only taker, evidently no one is feeling brave today(despite my words of “encouragement”), Tini declines, then decides to order one so we can discuss the experience, Nzinga is discussing her first experience with Iguana in great detail, talking of how when she tried it she really enjoyed it without knowing what it was, it was fried and she believed it to be fish (until she pulled an obvious shoulder joint from her mouth) when I open my husk, I see what appears to be any one of the many hundreds of tamales I have eaten in my life, I am feeling brave, I am trying something strange, something new (that I am told is delicious), something that just may become a new favorite food (like caribbean fish head soup). So in my hand I hold the Tamale and before I can bring it to my mouth a picture of a prehistoric looking Iguana flashes through my head (not good) truthfully sometimes chicken even freaks me out (pull it together man you have two beautiful women and a man in your company, dont be such a wuss) I clear the thoughts from my head and tentatively have a little nibble off the side (not bad, certainly not amazing and delicious, but not all bad) I am feeling OK about this, I decide that a nibble is not really the way to go and get ready for a big bite, about that time I look down and notice that in fact the dark substance oozing out of my first nibble is covered with scales (I see this and think about my friend Randy cooking up crispy salmon skin, which I LOVE) so here goes, my hand brings the tamale to my lips, now its all mind over matter, I imagine the flavorful salmon skin, crispy and crunchy, an explosion of taste in my mouth, my teeth sink into the soft corn, and into the dark skin ( no gagging, bite down) about that time I hear (and feel) the sickening crunch of tiny bones in my mouth and sorta slimy scaly skin on my tongue (this aint no chicken wing, and its certainly not crunchy salmon skin) what is in my mouth is a slimy, mostly flavorless bit o nasty, my bravado is gone, I am silently gagging, wondering how mortified I will actually feel if Tini enjoys hers, so I look up to see this beautiful blonde woman in her late twenties, or possibly early thirties wearing a black bikini, she is fit, she fills the bikini perfectly, her smile is contagious, she is smart, fun and laughs easily! Her classic beauty turns heads on the beach, she has taken a small bite, and before I can think (its hard to think when you are dry heaving) I look down at her tamale and say something like OMG are those feet? OK so now its her turn, she is kicking her legs trying to get her gag reflex under control, it looks something like the exaggerated gross out that you so often see with teenage kids, but I know this is no exaggeration, (I would have kicked my feet if it was possible), no this is nasty, I set it into motion, and now I have elevated it to the next level, I wonder if we are about to have barf o rama, me, i am lucky I am not covered in my own vomit, we try and calm down and are successful, no one has blown chunks, now its all about disposing of the evidence before the tamale vendors get back, luckily a beautiful brown dog shows up and is happy to eat my Tamale, (I saved Tinis for photos). We need liquid refreshment, gotta get that taste out of our mouths so we head for the palapa to try another new taste sensation, a Michelada (something that vaguely resembles a red beer or clamato, but is basically bad beer made hot with picante, whe it hits my stomache I secretly vow revenge on Nzingha, (she recommended the drink and spoke fondly of eating iguana and must be stopped before she strikes again) after trying unsuccessfully to pass my Michelada off onto a newly arrived Edward, I order a lemonade, and think better thoughts....
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