The Dish That Shaped My Life

Food has always been more than just sustenance for me. It’s a language, a memory, a bridge to my roots. And if there’s one dish that encapsulates my identity, my heritage, and my deepest emotions, it’s my grandmother’s tamales.

These little bundles of masa and filling, wrapped in corn husks and steamed to perfection, are more than just a meal—they are a symbol of love, tradition, and resilience. They are a connection to my Mexican heritage, a reminder of my grandmother’s hands, and a testament to the power of food to bring people together.

The Story Behind the Dish

My grandmother, Abuelita Rosa, was the heart of our family. She was a woman of few words but immense warmth, and her kitchen was her kingdom. Every December, as Christmas approached, our home would transform into a tamal factory. The process was a ritual, a sacred tradition that brought the entire family together. It wasn’t just about making food; it was about storytelling, laughter, and love.

Abuelita Rosa grew up in a small village in Michoacán, Mexico, where tamales were a staple. They were made for special occasions—birthdays, weddings, holidays—and were often shared with the entire community. When she immigrated to the United States in the 1960s, she brought this tradition with her. For her, tamales were a way to stay connected to her homeland, to pass on her culture to her children and grandchildren.

I remember waking up early on tamal-making days, the house already filled with the aroma of simmering pork and chiles. My aunts, uncles, and cousins would gather in the kitchen, each with a specific role. My job, as the youngest, was to soak the corn husks and separate them carefully, making sure they were pliable and ready to be filled. My older cousins would help Abuelita Rosa prepare the masa, mixing it with lard and broth until it was light and fluffy. My aunts would handle the fillings—shredded pork in red chile sauce, chicken in green salsa, and sometimes sweet tamales with raisins and cinnamon.

The process was labor-intensive, but no one complained. It was a labor of love. Abuelita Rosa would often tell us stories as we worked—about her childhood in Mexico, about the struggles she faced when she first arrived in the U.S., and about the importance of family. “Los tamales son como la familia,” she would say. “Each one is different, but they all come together to make something beautiful.”

When the tamales were finally ready, we would gather around the table, steam rising from the platters. The first bite was always magical—the tender masa, the flavorful filling, the slight resistance of the corn husk as you unwrapped it. It was a taste of home, of tradition, of love.

Abuelita Rosa passed away when I was in high school, but her tamales live on. Every Christmas, my family continues the tradition, and every time I take a bite, I feel her presence. Her tamales are more than just food; they are a connection to my past, a reminder of where I come from, and a symbol of the love that binds my family together.

The Recipe: Abuelita Rosa’s Tamales

Making tamales is a labor of love, but the effort is worth it. Below is the recipe for Abuelita Rosa’s tamales, passed down through generations. I’ve included detailed instructions to help you recreate this dish in your own kitchen.

Ingredients:

For the Masa:

- 4 cups masa harina (corn flour)

- 2 ½ cups chicken broth (warm)

- 1 ½ cups lard or vegetable shortening

- 1 tablespoon baking powder

- 1 teaspoon salt

For the Filling (Pork in Red Chile Sauce):

- 2 lbs pork shoulder (or butt), cut into large chunks

- 1 onion, quartered

- 4 cloves garlic

- 2 bay leaves

- Salt and pepper, to taste

- 4-5 dried ancho chiles

- 2-3 dried guajillo chiles

- 2 cloves garlic (for the sauce)

- 1 teaspoon cumin

- 1 teaspoon oregano

- 1 tablespoon vinegar

- Salt, to taste

For Assembly:

- 1 package dried corn husks (about 30-40 husks)

Instructions:

1. Prepare the Corn Husks:

- Place the corn husks in a large bowl or sink and cover them with warm water. Let them soak for at least 1-2 hours, or until they are soft and pliable.

2. Cook the Pork:

- In a large pot, combine the pork, onion, garlic, bay leaves, salt, and pepper. Cover with water and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer for 1.5-2 hours, or until the pork is tender and easily shreds.

- Remove the pork from the pot and let it cool slightly. Shred the meat using two forks, discarding any excess fat.

3. Make the Red Chile Sauce:

- While the pork is cooking, prepare the chiles. Remove the stems and seeds from the dried chiles and rinse them briefly.

- In a saucepan, bring 2-3 cups of water to a boil. Add the chiles and simmer for 10-15 minutes, or until they are soft.

- Transfer the chiles to a blender, along with 1 cup of the cooking liquid, garlic, cumin, oregano, vinegar, and salt. Blend until smooth. Strain the sauce through a fine-mesh sieve to remove any chunks.

- In a large skillet, heat a tablespoon of oil over medium heat. Add the chile sauce and cook for 5-10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until it thickens slightly.

- Add the shredded pork to the sauce and stir to combine. Set aside.

4. Prepare the Masa:

- In a large bowl, beat the lard or shortening with an electric mixer until light and fluffy, about 3-5 minutes.

- In a separate bowl, combine the masa harina, baking powder, and salt. Gradually add the masa mixture to the lard, alternating with the warm chicken broth. Beat until the masa is smooth and spreadable, with a consistency similar to peanut butter. To test if it’s ready, drop a small ball of masa into a glass of water—if it floats, it’s ready.

5. Assemble the Tamales:

- Drain the corn husks and pat them dry. Take one husk and spread about 2 tablespoons of masa onto the center, leaving a border around the edges.

- Spoon about 1-2 tablespoons of the pork filling down the center of the masa.

- Fold the sides of the husk toward the center, enclosing the filling. Fold the bottom of the husk up and leave the top open. Repeat with the remaining husks and filling.

6. Steam the Tamales:

- Fill a large steamer pot with about 2 inches of water. Place a steamer basket or insert in the pot, making sure the water doesn’t touch the bottom of the basket.

- Arrange the tamales upright in the steamer, with the open ends facing up. Cover with a layer of leftover corn husks or a clean kitchen towel to trap the steam.

- Bring the water to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium-low. Steam the tamales for 1.5-2 hours, or until the masa pulls away easily from the husk. Check the water level occasionally and add more if needed.

7. Serve and Enjoy:

- Let the tamales cool slightly before serving. Unwrap them and enjoy with a side of Mexican rice, beans, or simply on their own.

The Flavors, Textures, and Emotions

The first bite of a tamal is an experience. The masa is soft and slightly crumbly, with a rich, buttery flavor from the lard. The filling—whether it’s the smoky, slightly spicy pork in red chile sauce or the tangy chicken in green salsa—is tender and bursting with flavor. The corn husk adds a subtle earthiness, a reminder of the natural ingredients that go into making this dish.

But beyond the flavors and textures, tamales evoke deep emotions. They remind me of family, of togetherness, of the love and care that goes into making them. They are a connection to my heritage, a way to honor my grandmother and the traditions she passed down. Every time I make tamales, I feel her presence in the kitchen, guiding my hands, reminding me of the importance of family and tradition.

Conclusion

Abuelita Rosa’s tamales are more than just a dish—they are a legacy. They are a reminder of where I come from, of the sacrifices my grandmother made, and of the love that binds my family together. They are a bridge to the past, a connection to my heritage, and a keeper of memories.

If you’ve never made tamales before, I encourage you to try this recipe. It’s a labor of love, but the process is as rewarding as the result. And as you unwrap that first tamal, take a moment to savor not just the flavors, but the stories, the traditions, and the love that went into making it. Because food is more than nourishment—it’s a bridge to the past, a connection to heritage, and a keeper of memories.