Tamales, Parties, and Preserves!
I have to keep myself from eating the delicious Chile Verde, Chile Colorado, and Picadillo! "Everything in moderation", my father use to say. "Ay que sabroso la masa. Vana salir tan sabrosos! Les pusiste bastante manteca mija", my abuelita use to say.....
Oh I make the best chile verde in my opinion. The ingredients I place in this recipe are far more elevated then the traditional Chile Verde, I believe I created a delicious recipe that my friends have since placed a stamp of approval on them! (I have a few videos on my YouTube channel). My answering machine use to say "Thank you for calling Mama's Tamales, and the Best Tamales in town....". Thats what I believed, until I found a 3 ounce tamale wrapped tightly in nice simple package at Walmart, made in Mexico! And it was just for one dollar! So I bought it, and to my surprise quite yummy! I carefully looked at the ingredients and thought, "Wow, they are all natural!" Real pork?! Thats what we look for, right? I was surprised however to find the same company with the "tamalito", a sweeter version of a tamale quite delicious. These guys aren't playing! These tamales are so darn good! I'm sure the ingredients are pretty natural in the tamalitos, but had some ingredients that were listed were ones that stood out from warnings made by doctors, scientests, biologists, etc,. Nothing can be better then whole foods. Right? Still, my father would say, "Everything in moderation". I still ate it and I'm still here!
My grandparents lived until they were in their 90's and my grandmother lived to be 89, I believe. I believe she passed away from a broken heart after the loss of her only and lifelong partner, my grandfather. Also, not having her ranch, (which I had begged for my mother to keep), and coming to the states, her beloved dying took the last chance of living in her life, I felt. My grandmother was a strong woman! She built her own house and home with a kitchen that was like a smoke house. We all huddled in her kitchen at night and would have pan dulce (Mexican sweet bread). We also had canela or some coffee if we desired. During the day, we gathered eggs for breakfast as we shared duties moliendo the maize (grinding the maize), after it was soaking in water and lime (a type of mineral used to dissolve the outerpart of the corn kernel, the pericarp), and thoroughly rinsing it. Then mama would grind the ground up maize that remained moist on this long molcajete which would begin the process of a fine art in making these handcrafted beautiful soft corn tortillas! Grinding a bit at a time and adding water to the process, created a delicious masa for tortillas or tamales. This was made daily! I tried it grinding it on the molcajete, and with failed attempt I continued to grind the maize since it was easier for me at that time. But there was still one more step, and it was removing the maize from its cobs. Me and my brother did sit for a while rubbing the two corn cobs together removing the kernels in this large basket called a chiquihuite, (a hand woven basket). We got tired after a while and my mother or grandmother would shoo us to go play and we did, graciously. We were never forced to to have to do rigid duties, but always offered help because of curiousity. I think it just made my grandmother smile quite a bit, as well as my grandfather, because the work was labor intense. The ranch days were so much fun, most of the time!
After the corn was harvested from the fields they had sustained, the corn was then was placed in an specific area. If I can recall it was placed inside the roof of my grandmother's kitchen. She also had these planks that hung in her kitchen for storage and wires that hung across with pieces of marianted pork. The aromas of her kitchen drew me constantly wanting her food. A mesquite, a special wood my grandfather would harvest daily, was for firing the cast iron griddle. The corn cobs were used to ignite the fire. Nothing wasted from the corn itself. My favorite breakfast was her fried eggs in melted manteca (lard), and deliciously seasoned pork jerky slices with handcrafted corn torillias straight from the field! What was best was her delicious slasa made with the molcajete! Yum!! tbrown organic sugar or piloncio which can be easily found in lur markets today. The salt she used was a rock seasalt, which I find at a Coop store. And the sweetner was a rich molassy organic sugar.
Many farmers would have a storage under the banks that were made next to the walls indoor each kitchen, and doors were placed for storage. Thats where the corn/maize was placed so tiny scorpians could roam freely. I say this in jest, but it was a big deal since the scorpians were quite poisonous. We especially would have to stay away from the green ones! The red ones were ruthless, but the green ones were even more so poisonous. I can remember my brother foolishly playing with them. It was a thing for kids. Still, we were fully warned to stay away. My grandmother gave remedies for those who were bitten. One day, I asked my mother, what it was, and she said she really didn't know, but beleived it to be......Well I won't say, we are talking about food right now. Anyway, the best thing was to simply stay away from these little critters!
The gifts my grandmother gave me and my little world brought me gifts of love. Tamales were one of them! Every year my mother would make them and every year when visiting my grandmother and grandfather, they would slaughter a huge four to five hundred pound hog. It was traditional. She would raise it feeding only the best corn they would grow until the pig reached its full maturity. Of course it was truly sad to see it slaughtered. Me and my sisters would run and hide in the bedroom, right next to the kitchen. We would hide our heads in the blankets, but the noise was so that we could still hear the screams. It was traditional to collect the blood from the hog and gather it for a type of dish that tasted like liver. It wasn't my favorite since I knew were it came from. But would probably try it this day, which I did raw in my culinary class, garde manger, with a chef named Ray, who was from France!
The bedroom wasn't the kind of bedroom you would see in these homes these days. The mortored home was two rooms, kitchen and bedroom. My parents had a three bedroom and a porch that was later turned into a room where I lived for a year after my firstborn son was born. To me it was safe a home for me and my son, in that time period. The house my grandparents made was of a different culture setting, but not uncommon to ours. Work and sleep! The best part of my grandparent's house was the bonefire placed right in front of her home and an adobe stove, she also made with her delicious mouth-watering breads.
The gifts we had were of love, making it easier in the kitchen was at my parents house, although we never had a dishwasher. My father would call us his dishwashers, in humor. Still, tamales are hard to make and its taxing on the body. Yes they are! My mother made them every year, keeping her tradition for her children and our families. It was the last food she made until she was sent to the hospital. I went to visit their house and saw the masa that was placed in their freezer, four months of my father's passing, and I made them for her funeral. That was the hard part. Refelcting, somehow I was able to help my mother when our grandparents passed away, helping her with the arrangements, making that call to my father on his trip to his homeland, Louisiana, etc. I was there for my mother during the loss of her parents and helping as much as I could. Her oldest daughter, my sister came immediately to offer some sort of comfort. This was tough for my mother, and I know it broke her heart so much. It was tough for my father as well since he loved her parents so much. One would never have to ask me twice to help my parents when they were alive. These were my parents and my history. For me its about the memories which are priceless! Memories make a legend, not money. Money is good, however what makes a legend are the memories that have been passed down to our generation and our family members with the gifts we share. My parents shared so many. My grandparents, (my mother's parents), shared quite a few. I will never forget the memories they shared and the memories of my father who brought so many gifts from his upbringing which included the best turkey dressing ever, fried rabbit with onion gravy sauce, and sorghum syrup!
Preserves were part of my father's American traditional foods, which I'm sure my grandmother, his mother, would make, since they also had a farm in Louisiana. My father must have shared methods and techniques with my mother, including so many other recipes and my mother learned on that hot grill where they both met next to the railroad tracks. And who can forget her pancakes, eggs, and bacon, she would make for my father on special mornings. Oatmeal made from canned milk! Yum! One of my favorites! He was spoiled with her love of cooking! They both cooked and celebrated family. My mother was a great cook where they both met at that bar and grill in Roseville, California. She became a master of making that perfect pancake, only to satisify his palette, and there nothing wrong with that, in my opinion. Pancakes didn't go well without her preserves or his syrup he would bring home after the visits from Louisiana. The gifts they had and brought to the table will surely be missed and its certainly not the same without them. They both live in my heart, all of them! And will remain as part of my history are my grandparents! Thats why I called this season, Tamales, Parties, and Preserves! They held these recipes as a part of their lives, and I'll always charish them as part of mine! Happy Holidays!