What is a lazy girl to do when she has a tamale craving but finds herself in New York City? The solution was obvious: I had to convince my smart and kindhearted friend Lauren to have a tamale-making party. Fortunately, the wonderfully proactive Monica was also present at this discussion and in a week's time, she nimbly extracted a recipe for tamales from the mother of one of her Spanish-speaking students, procured corn husks, masa mix and guajillo chiles, and braised pork shoulders. ¡Que bueno!
Off to Brooklyn I went this Saturday, for a fun-filled afternoon of tamale-making with Lauren, Dave, Monica and Jon. We started by making a chile paste, frying the shredded pork, and mixing the first of many batches of masa.
Over the next five hours, we laid bed after bed of masa onto corn husks, piled on pork and wrapped them up as we would Christmas presents (only these we would be opening throughout the summer). For a group largely comprised of novices, we were productive, and the steamers bore witness to this.
Some 100 pork tamales later, our collective tamale-making uncertainty waned while adventurousness waxed. We moved on to cheese tamales and strawberry-and-basil tamales (at Dave's intriguing suggestion). The latter formed a most lovely blushing mass of masa.
Friends, we made two hundred tamales and counting. We also made a glorious mess of Jon and Monica's kitchen. I trudged back to Manhattan, tired, but completely exhilirated from a wonderful day with friends and eagerly anticipating my dinner.
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