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December 21, 2002

Making Gold

Minions in a Stew

Well I finally got some minions to help out. They even brought me breakfast from Taco Cabana and Chai from the Starbucks. I have to say my sister is a good tamale minion. My mom....not so much. I think her "princess gene" is emerging. She does have a nice haircut and she did make some good coffee though. So Dad, his wife Diane, Stepan and I have pulled the fat from the meat, shred it, put some spice together and the big pot of tamale goodness is stewing on the stove. I think it tastes just about right. Once the spices stew and settle in, I think we will have a scrumptious end-product. Oddly enough, my Dad is being squeamish about putting some heat in the pot. I am all about the heat; that little bite at the end of every bite that reminds you you are alive and have a sinus cavity. I love that! I think my aunts are all a little tickled that we have decided to take on this project. If nothing else, these tamales will be good for a story.

I am a little worried that we won't have enough. Based on the meat we bought, we are thinking we have enough for 20 dozen so far. It's amazing how 27lbs of pork doesn't look like much in a 35 quart pot. Can't talk much today and there is so much to say. I am, for the first time ever, commanding a squad of tamale makers. When she was alive, my Grandma Lucio would make tamales once a year at Christmas. All the women in the family (except my cousin Diana who I think hates kitchens completely) and in her circle of friends would spend a weekend cooking meat, seasoning, boiling and cleaning hojas, making masa, the chili mix and finally the tamales. It's a simple recipe but very labor intensive. My Dad says that Grandma would pre-prep for weeks. Stocking up on the meat, and masa when it was on sale. Pre-boiling and freezing the meat. We are going to try to do it in a weekend but we are only making 40 or 50 dozen instead of the "gross gross" that Grandma would make. That sounds like alot but tamales are like gold and crack all rolled into one. Valuable and very addictive. Grandma would freeze her stash (All the tamale-helpers would also need a stash as well.) and give them out throughout the year like hugs and kisses. Tamales were love and favor and if you got a dozen when visiting you would be the envy of all the clan...if they knew. Like Grandpa Leo's Ice Creams, you had to keep your tamale treats a secret else all hell would break loose.

Because my Mom, Dad, brother, sister, and I lived far away most of the time , and also because of the delicate balance of the Lucio/Karl Christmas schedule I never really got to participate in the tamale-making fest while my Grandmother was alive. And then there was college and oats to sow. I paid a large price for such youth and abandon. Before I realized it, my Grandma was gone. She sat down to rest amongst her myriad of flora and fauna in a greenhouse her sons had built for her, held her hand to her heart and breathed her last. Fortunately for me though, my Grandma had a plan that would grant me a reprieve. And when she died she bequeathed all of the secret recipes and rituals of making a Guadelupe Lucio tamale to my Aunt Helen. Mi Tia Helen was always a pretty good cook, but I know that, somewhere in the space after she died and before she left the earth, Grandma gave my Aunt Helen her culinary gift. Helen, in turn, is sharing that gift with me.

So here I am at my baby brother's house spinning pork into Gold. Aunt Helen in Wichita Falls is just a cell phone away for last minute instruction and encouragement. I am having a great time. Every now and then I imagine I can hear my Grandmother giggling at my efforts and occasionally admonishing me to wash my hands and be sure to clean the hojas at least twice. If I can pull this off, I know that I will have the recipes and the secrets too and will, one day, be able to share them with my nieces, nephews, and maybe, someday children.

Boiled
I spent last night boiling the meat. Dad bought a bucket steamer and a 35 quart pot/steamer for the occasion. The 35 quart-er was perfect for cooking the meat. I got about 15 pounds of pork in that puppy! Putting a little of my own panache on the recipe, I rubbed the meat in salt, pepper, chili and stuff before setting it to boil. I slept on the couch in the den but since my brother has an open kitchen I imagined it was like sleeping in the kitchen like the old days. Got to watch my meat! At about 1:30am my brother woke me up and said, "The meat! What's wrong with the meat?" JERK! I spring to life ready to risk life and limb to rescue my bounty only to find that it is just fine. I turn down the heat and fall back asleep. I wake up, on my own at 6:53am. The meat is boiled and cooling; ready for shredding. I think it looks right....Now I need minions to do my bidding and bring me breakfast. My brother only has cookies in his house. Doesn't he know that I have a big, Fat, Gay wedding to prepare for?

Posted by mermu at December 21, 2002 09:33 AM

Comments

Posted by: Elizabeth (cousin) at December 24, 2002 02:34 AM

Posted by: Elizabeth (cousin) at December 23, 2002 02:03 AM

Posted by: Rhett at December 21, 2002 06:07 PM

Posted by: Kambri at December 21, 2002 09:43 AM

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