Homesick for Mexico, that's what I am. It's been two weeks since I stepped off the plane from Tepotzlán, a small town in the mountains of central Mexico, and I can't stop filling my house with food memories: The cinnamon-spiked cafe de olla, the milky almond and rice horchata, and the perfect tamales.
Sweet tamales filled with anise seeds and prunes make the perfect merienda--or second breakfast--during food writing classes.
Ingredients for making mole. Cooking outdoors in natural light makes every meal a photographer's dream.
It's not just the food I miss, although Tepoztlán is a food lover's paradise; a place where it is possible to eat squash blossoms at every meal. Where you can discover a new fruit each day. Where elderly women are up with the sun to grind corn at the neighborhood mill for the morning meal. I miss seeing them amble up the pre-Hispanic cobblestone streets with their pails of masa.
These pods may look like fava beans, yet they are full of juicy fruits that taste like lichee nuts.
In Tepotzlán, the rhythm of the day is set by meals that are shared. I miss the papaya on my breakfast plate, and the hand-patted tortillas for lunch. I miss the tiny squares of guanabana paste, served with cheese for a midmorning snack.
Papaya with prunes and a squeeze of lime for breakfast.
Making corn tortillas at Cocinar Mexicano. The raised border of the gordita is perfect for filling with fresh toppings.
I miss wandering through the central market, sneaking photos as the delicate morning light filters over the produce stands, arranged by the vendors like works of art. And shopping for chiles, pottery, spices, and wooden spoons with my new friends.
At the central market in Tepoztlan, produce vendors arrange their food like works of art.
Nopales--cactus paddles--can be purchases already scraped of their thorns, ready for turning into an okra-like side side or salad.
Cafe de Olla is served in small clay cups. The Mexican cazuela--casserole dish--is integral to everything cooked over a flame.
I miss my morning walk to the Temple of Tepoteco, the first century home of an Aztec king at the summit of a 2000 foot climb. A daily walk for the locals, by the end of the week I'd run into new friends that I'd met. (Yes, Jacksonites, just like Snow King.)
The temple of Tepoteco sits on the summit of the town hill, with a view of the town of Tepotzlan. Yes, just like looking at Jackson from the top of Snow King.
Mostly, I miss the friends I made while taking writing classes at Under the Volcano, and cooking classes at Cocinar Mexicano. Luckily, I brought some of Tepotzlán home with me. I have the recipes.
Tere, my cooking instructor at Cocinar Mexicano, shopping for chiles for our cooking class.
I love to collect recipes when I travel; for me, they are the best souvenirs. So the first thing I did when I got home was to have friends over for a tamalada--a tamale-making party. You see, Tere and Magda, my cooking instructors, had taught me the secret to perfect tamales, and I couldn't wait to share.
Magda and Tere fold squash blossoms into masa for these healthy tamales, packed with chopped zucchini.
The Tepoztlán style of tamale is light and airy, packed with vegetables, fresh cheeses, or sweets. A thin coating of masa is smeared on a softened corn husk. The fillings depend on what's fresh at the market: Shredded zucchini blossoms with diced zucchini, epazote with peppers and cheese, or fresh corn with huitlacoche (a corn fungus with the fragrance of sweet corn).
A tamale with rajas--roasted peppers and onions, fresh cheese, and a few sprigs of epazote, a pungent wild herb that tastes of fresh coriander.
Tere's first rule of making perfect tamales is never to do it alone. It is not that tamales are difficult to make; making masa dough and assembling tamales takes less than an hour. The tamale-making ritual is symbolic of all that's important in Tepoztlan food culture: A special occasion, a celebration of abundance, a chance to gather and visit while mixing and folding, wrapping and tying.
More of Tere's rules for making perfect tamales: You must smile while placing tamales in the pot. Take a penny and bless the pot with the sign of the cross, then toss the penny to the bottom. While the tamales are cooking, you'll hear a tinkle-tinkle-tinkle from the penny. If the tinkling stops, it will alert you to add more water. In other words, listen, be present, and hover over your precious pot of steaming tamales.
Tere and Rosi smile as they place our sweet tamales in the pot; Tere insists that you must transfer your positive energy to your food. Rosi is famous for her mole recipe, the best I've ever had.
This is a special pot for steaming tamales--a tamalera. You can make your own by placing a colander or vegetable steamer in a large pot, and filling it with 2 inches of water. A tight lid is essential.
The sweet tamales proved to be my new favorite food. In Tepoztlán, dulce tamales filled with pineapple, prunes, or strawberries are not just for dessert. Locals eat them out of hand as snacks, typically as a merienda, or second breakfast. I fell in love with our sweet prune tamales, the masa whipped light with butter instead of lard, and laced with anise seeds. At home, I've been stuffing them with squares of dark chocolate and dollops of fig butter.
My dark chocolate tamales are a big hit with the kids. But I love the ones filled with fig butter: dried figs are poached in port and red wine, star anise and cinnamon sticks, then pureed to a butter-like spread.
I keep my Tepoztlán recipes close at hand to put a bit of Mexico into each day. Sipping my gringo version of cafe de olla (made by boiling cinnamon sticks and pouring the nut-brown water through my coffee machine) reminds me of my food writing instructor, the one-and-only Betty Fussell, and how I soaked up her wisdom each day during class.
Betty and Tere in the market.
Piloncillo is a raw sugar that can be found at the local Mexican markets. You can also find Mexican canela sticks there, the secret to perfect Cafe de Olla.
When I toast dried chiles on a comal to make a classic red chile sauce, I think of Marta, who loves chiles so much that she purchased 6 kilos to take back to the Phillipines with her.
Marta is a girl who loves chiles.
I can't drink tequila without thinking of all my amigas: Perre, Amy, Cathy, Marta, Felicia, Dorothy, and Dawn, who made me laugh and laugh and laugh as the Mexican sun set.
Perre with one of my favorite vendors in the market. Check out Perre's amazing Southern recipes at The Runaway Spoon.
I can't eat kumquats without thinking of Cathy (see link at the bottom of the post). Follow her pickling and preserving adventures at Mrs. Wheelbarrow's Kitchen, and look for her book in 2014.
Visit chef Amy's two Berkeley restaurants: Venus and Revival.
And when I make tamales with my Jackson amigas, and hear the penny tinkling in the pot, I think of Tere's smile. Though sampling great food while traveling is often the purpose of my trip, it's not nearly as important as the people I meet. Cooking and sharing food with new friends make the best travel memories. Recipes make the best souvenirs.
Tere and Rosi show us how to remove dried corn from the cob, for making masa dough.
Perfect Savory Tamales
At Cocinar Mexicano, we made our masa dough the traditional way, by soaking boiled dried corn in a lime solution, a process called nixtamalization. The corn is then drained, and ground into a paste in the food processor. Masa made this way has the fullest corn flavor, and an interesting coarse texture.
In Jackson Hole this time of year, there is no dried corn to be found, so I made my masa using the second best method: dehydrated masa mix. This is not masa harina, like you would use to make tortillas. The Maseca brand of dehydrated masa can be found in local grocery stores, and the flavor is sweet and earthy. Take a hint from Magda: To improve the texture of the Maseca masa, add a handful of fresh corn to the masa dough.
Even easier: Go to the Tortilleria mi Pueblo behind the Gun Barrel restaurant and buy 1 pound of masa dough already made by the lovely Mexican women there.
In Jackson Hole this time of year, there is no dried corn to be found, so I made my masa using the second best method: dehydrated masa mix. This is not masa harina, like you would use to make tortillas. The Maseca brand of dehydrated masa can be found in local grocery stores, and the flavor is sweet and earthy. Take a hint from Magda: To improve the texture of the Maseca masa, add a handful of fresh corn to the masa dough.
Even easier: Go to the Tortilleria mi Pueblo behind the Gun Barrel restaurant and buy 1 pound of masa dough already made by the lovely Mexican women there.
The authentic method of making masa involves soaking dried corn in a lime solution, then grinding it to a paste.
I make my masa for tamales with lard, and I don't feel badly about it. (I also use goose fat, if I can get it, which is oooooh so good.) Good fresh lard rendered from pork fat will give your tamales the best flavor, and it has less than half the cholesterol and less than a third of the saturated fat of butter. Don't settle for the lily-white lard in the grocery store. Take a trip to the impeccably clean Alameda Mexican butcher shop on Alpine Lane in Jackson. I found all the ingredients I needed for my tamalada, including the Maseca, panela (fresh cheese), epazote (a bitter cilantro-like green), and freshly made lard for a pittance. I also found much fresher corn husks than I had purchased at the grocery store.
You can fill your tamales with whatever you fancy. We swooned over our parsnip and butternut squash tamales. Shredded lamb pairs particularly well with mole sauce, guajillo sauce, and salsa morena. Leftover chicken or turkey are perfect with tomatillo sauce.
This recipe makes more than a dozen tamales. The tamales will keep, tightly sealed in a plastic bag, for 5 days in the refrigerator, or up to 3 months in the freezer.
This recipe makes more than a dozen tamales. The tamales will keep, tightly sealed in a plastic bag, for 5 days in the refrigerator, or up to 3 months in the freezer.
For the Masa Dough
Fillings
- 2 cups instant masa mix (Maseca brand)
- 2 cups water or chicken broth
- 1/2 teaspoon baking powder (omit if cooking at sea level)
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 2/3 cup fresh pork lard, goose fat, or vegetable substitute
- 1 bag corn husks
Fillings
- shredded cooked turkey or chicken, cubes of panela or other fresh white cheese, fresh epazote or cilantro
- cubes of parsnip and butternut squash, brushed with pomegranate molasses and roasted in the oven until soft and caramelized
- shredded lamb meat from 3 loin chops, and mole sauce
- shredded pork from a cooked pork tenderloin, with guajillo sauce
- sauteed kale with pancetta, and cubes of fontina cheese
Making tamales with my Jackson amigas, Susan and Chris.
- Soak corn husks in a large pot of cold water for several hours, or until they are soft and pliable. You may need to place a heavy can on top of the husks to keep them submerged.
- Whip lard by hand or in a mixer until fluffy. Set aside.
- Mix instant masa, baking powder and salt in a large bowl. If using a standing mixer, place the whipped lard in another bowl, and use that bowl.
- Make a well in the center of the instant masa, and slowly add water or broth. Mix well, either by hand with a large wooden paddle or spoon, or with a standing mixer fitted with a paddle attachment.
- Add the lard to the masa mixture, and beat for 3-5 minutes. If you are doing this by hand, you will hear a slapping sound as the masa comes together, and you will know that it's done.
- Masa can be made up to a day ahead of time, then beaten for a minute or so before using, adding water or broth to form a thick dough.
- To form the tamales, open a corn husk like a book, and smear 2-3 tablespoons of masa over the center and almost to the sides. Place 2-3 tablespoons of filling on top. Roll your tamale up while pinching the bottom closed, then fold over or tie with a piece of corn husk.
- To cook the tamales, place a vegetable steamer or colander inside a large stockpot, and fill with 2 inches of water. Tightly pack the tamales with the pointy end facing up, so they are standing up straight like little soldiers. Cover the tamales with a plastic grocery bag, then a dish towel to keep in the steam. Remember, you must be smiling all the while.
- Take a penny and bless the pot. Throw the penny to the bottom of the pot, cover with a tight-fitting lid, and bring to a boil. Cook for 1 hour to 1 hour 15 minutes. Keep adding water if the penny stops tinkling, but be careful not to pour it over the tamales. After 1 hour, remove a tamale and test it for doneness. The masa should be light and cooked through, and easily come apart from the husk.
| perfect_savory_tamales________jacksonholefoodie.docx |
Perfect Sweet Tamales
Makes more than a dozen sweet tamales
For the Sweet Masa Dough
- 2 cups instant masa mix (Maseca brand)
- 2 cups water
- 1 cup unsalted butter
- 2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder (use 3 teaspoons if at sea level)
- 1 cup raw sugar (turbinado or Sugar in the Raw)
- 1/2 teaspoon of salt
Sweet Fillings
- 2 squares of dark chocolate
- 2 tablespoons of fig butter
- cubes of fresh fruit, such as pineapple or strawberries
- dried prunes, raisins, or apricots
- Whip the butter in a standing mixer or by hand until fluffy, about 5 minutes. Set aside.
- Place masa mix in a large bowl, and make a well in the center. Slowly pour in the water, beating vigorously with a wooden spoon or the paddles of a standing mixer for 3-5 minutes.
- Beat in the sugar and the baking powder. Add the whipped butter and mix until fully incorporated. When the sweet masa is finished, it should be light and airy, and as smooth as sour cream.
- Sweet masa can be made up to a day ahead of time, then beaten for a minute or so before using, adding water to form a thick dough.
- To form the tamales, open a corn husk like a book, and smear 2-3 tablespoons of masa over the center and almost to the sides. Place 2-3 tablespoons of filling on top. Roll your tamale up while pinching the bottom closed, then fold over or tie with a piece of corn husk.
- To cook the tamales, place a vegetable steamer or colander inside a large stockpot, and fill with 2 inches of water. Tightly pack the tamales with the pointy end facing up, so they are standing up straight like little soldiers. Cover the tamales with a plastic grocery bag, then a dish towel to keep in the steam. Remember, you must be smiling all the while.
- Take a penny and bless the pot. Throw the penny to the bottom of the pot, cover with a tight-fitting lid, and bring to a boil. Cook for 1 hour to 1 hour 15 minutes. Keep adding water if the penny stops tinkling, but be careful not to pour it over the tamales. After 1 hour, remove a tamale and test it for doneness. The masa should be light and cooked through, and easily come apart from the husk.
| perfect_sweet_tamales_________jacksonholefoodie.docx |
Fig Butter
This recipe is adapted slightly from Good to the Grain by Kim Boyce. Smear fig butter on a turkey panini, a whole wheat scone, a piece of toast with Brie, or use it to fill your tamales.
- 1/2 cup sugar
- 1/4 cup water
- 2 whole cloves
- 2 star anise pods
- 1 stick of cinnamon or canela
- 1 cup red wine
- 1/2 cup port
- 12 ounces dried Black Mission figs, stems removed
- 1/2 stick unsalted butter, softened
- Place the sugar and water in a small saucepan, and stir to dissolve. Add the cloves, anise and cinnamon sticks, and bring to a boil.
- Simmer over medium heat for 8-10 minutes, until the syrup is thick and amber-colored.
- Add the red wine, port, and the figs, taking care to avoid being splattered, as it will sputter up. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a low heat, and cook for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon.
- Remove the cloves, anise and cinnamon. Let the figs cool, then puree them in a food processor with the butter. Store in an airtight jar for up to a month.
| fig_butter_____________________________jacksonholefoodie.docx |
To make horchata: place 2/3 cup white rice, 1 1/4 cups blanched almonds, 1 3-inch piece of canela or cinnamon, and 2 1/2 cups hot tap water in a pitcher. Refrigerate overnight. Blend until smooth. Strain over a fine mesh sieve. Add 2 cups almond milk, milk or water, and 1 cup sugar to taste. Blend and serve chilled.
Visit my friends:
Visit Cathy Barrow at Mrs. Wheelbarrow's Kitchen.
Read about Cathy's Candied Kumquats in this article she wrote for the New York Times (while sitting under a kumquat tree in Tepotzlán): Giving an Odd Little Fruit a Sweet Lift.
Visit Perre Magnus at The Runaway Spoon, for all things divinely Southern.
For cooking classes in Tepoztlán, you must cook with Tere, Magda, Rosi, and all the talented women at Cocinar Mexicano.
For writing workshops in a fabulous location, check out Under the Volcano.
Visit Cathy Barrow at Mrs. Wheelbarrow's Kitchen.
Read about Cathy's Candied Kumquats in this article she wrote for the New York Times (while sitting under a kumquat tree in Tepotzlán): Giving an Odd Little Fruit a Sweet Lift.
Visit Perre Magnus at The Runaway Spoon, for all things divinely Southern.
For cooking classes in Tepoztlán, you must cook with Tere, Magda, Rosi, and all the talented women at Cocinar Mexicano.
For writing workshops in a fabulous location, check out Under the Volcano.
