Making Tamales Should Be a Group Effort

Whenever people get together to make tamales, fun and laughter are sure to follow. Both were prominent on Sunday night when my LIFE group merged with a Latin women’s LIFE group from my church to make tamales at the home of Eren and her mother, Olga.

Eren is the common denominator for both groups. She, Olga and friend Judy attend the same group on Wednesday night as my wife and I, in the home of Fair Oaks Baptist Church pastor Steve McCoy and his wife, Andrea. We’re all sort of new to the church, and Steve and Andrea recruit leaders by way of their home fellowship studies.

During one of our Wednesday night meetings, the Latinas and I started talking about Mexican food. (Eren and Olga are from Mexico and Judy is from Guatemala.) Before you know it, we were planning a get-together to make tamales. Everyone else in the group was like, “Yeah, we’ll come” – and eat!

Making tamales is a natural in a group setting. One of the traditions in Latin countries is for families and friends to get together on Christmas eve and make tamales, eat them for a late supper, then go to midnight Mass, stuffed.

Easily, there is room for 7 to 8 stations. People talk, laugh and work side by side for hours while making these tasty treats. In Central and South America, tamales are made differently in virtually every country. Some are made with corn husks, whereas banana leaves are more prominent farther south.

On Sunday, Mexico (Eren, Olga and Alicia), Guatemala (Judy) and Colombia (Lucia, Carmen and Dora) were represented, as well as a few gringo hangers on from Los Ustados Unidos. The Latin Ladies meet Friday night in Eren and Olga’s house and study the Bible together, sometimes in English, sometimes in Espanol.

Me? I’m kind of a cross-over between gringo and Mexican. I grew up on the border of Mexico and love the culture and the cuisine, which I have studied – in the kitchen and in word – intently over the years. When I started catering in 2004, tamales were my specialty. In 2005, I won a prize for my mushroom tamales at the San Jose Tamale Festival, against dozens of other competitors.

And, yet, it’s been three years since I last made tamales, with Susan. Making tamales is time consuming and a lot of hard work. When I pitched the idea to Eren, she readily agreed to host it.

Sunday afternoon, I was slaving away in the kitchen, making adobo (red chile salsa) and my three-mushroom (button, Shiitake, and portobello) concoction. Eren had prepared chicken, roast pork in adobo and cheese and jalapenos, so we had four different types of mushrooms to make – and eat.

Sue and I were the last to arrive a little after 4 p.m. All the ladies were eager to make tamales. My wife had an interesting observation. Why weren’t the Latin ladies teaching us how to make tamales? The answer is because most of them had never made tamales.

Eren and I traded off sharing a few secrets, then we got started. Eren had an oblong table set up in her kitchen covered with a plastic table cloth – when you’re done, you just throw the dirty thing away.

I gave a quick demonstration on how to make the little treasures, then I got out of the way and let them have fun. When they made a mistake, I stepped in to correct them. We had tall ones, short ones, fat ones, skinny ones and every combination thereof. Some were pretty; some were kind of hideous. Some had blogs of masa, and others were paper thin. Who cares? All that matters is what they taste like.

The Latin ladies – along with Andrea and Earlene (see Dec. 11 post) dived right in. There was much cackling – I mean talking – going on while they worked. The tamales are fitted into a steamer when they’re done for a 75-minute wet sauna. Eren took care of boiling the water, while I prepared the masa (corn meal, mixed with salt, baking powder, lard and chicken stock). Eren had soaked the corn husks in boiling water for an hour before we arrived.

Every 20 minutes or so, a new pot was boiling. Occasionally, we’d have the ladies switch positions and learn a new task. At one point, I led the group in singing the famous Latin song “Cielito Lindo.” The refrain goes “Ay, ay, ay, ay. Canta y no llores.” As soon as I sang those lines, the Latin ladies jumped in and sang. When they finished, they all laughed heartily. Later, I changed up the tune a little and sang “Ay, ay, ay ay. I am the Frito Bandito” and my wife took it from there with a solo. “I love Fritos Corn Chips, I’ll get them from you.” It was hilarious.

By the time we finished all four types of tamales, the first, Eren’s roast pork, were done. Everybody who came brought a side dish, and we had a nifty little potluck happening by 7 p.m.

We all sat around the table chatting. The gringos asked questions about life in Mexico, Guatemala and Colombia and what brought them to the United States. We asked about the foods they grew up with. Life sharing was going on.

That is what good food should do. Good things happen when food and people collide. That combination brings conversation and laughter, two essentials for budding friendships. As you talk, you get to know each other. A get-together becomes a celebration. When you're done, share the extras with friends and family, because Christmas is about giving and sharing with others.

Caption: Making tamales in group settings is a Latin tradition, especially on Christmas eve. Here, I gave a quick demonstration to Eren (middle) and my pastor's wife, Andrea.

Memorials Should Be a Celebration of Life

Patricia Maselli died on July 4 at the age of 53, leaving behind two adult children and 10 grandchildren. One of the things I appreciated hearing at her memorial yesterday was how much she was loved by her family. They talked about her living life to the fullest. “Spontaneous adventures” were mentioned by several people. One after another came up and shared funny stories about her, including several about her penchant for fast cars and fishing.

I laughed quietly when her son told a story about her meeting her dad as a teenager by racing and beating him on the streets of Fremont. I helped her purchase a car at an auction a few years ago, and she bought the one car I didn’t think she should buy. It was a cute, little supped-up Acura Integra that looked like a hot-rodder. Patricia lost me at the first light. Sadly for her, a few minutes later, I found her, pulled over on the freeway, her new purchase steaming from under the hood because of overheating.

Now it made sense why she wanted a fast car.

I knew Patricia from our serving together in Focus Singles Ministry in Livermore,California, for several years. I helped her move to her last residence a few years ago. The Patricia I knew lived a life full of life struggles and far too much physical pain. I did not know her as well as I thought.

Several people, including her pastor of several years at a church in nearby Fremont, spoke of Patricia’s boundless faith. It had the same energy she had for life. She lived her faith by serving others. With Focus, whatever needed done, Patricia would jump into with zeal. Like most single adults, she liked getting gussied up for our various events and kicking up her heals a little. She also served in Cornerstone’s women’s ministry.

After she died, I volunteered to do the food for her service. Memorials and funerals are particularly hard for single adults because there is no spouse to plan everything. In Patricia’s case, her children and extended family were around to help out where possible, but family shouldn't slave away on such a day.

I don’t have any experience in providing food for memorials. At my dad’s memorial five years ago, several women from his church provided a simple lunch, sort of a faux potluck. Having food around allows friends and family to mingle and reminisce after the service for a while. People need to process death by sharing stories with others. It’s part of the healing with need. How did this person’s life impact us, good or bad?

In biblical times, funerals lasted for several days, and food was an essential element of the gathering. When people died, their lives were celebrated. Food brings people together at a time when sharing is important to our psyches. Without the food, too many people would just walk out the door and put that person’s life behind them. God wants us to remember them, because that’s what grieving means. Funerals and memorials should bring tears and laughter together. If it’s just one or the other, something is missing.

Yesterday was a learning process for me on two accounts. I learned that there was more to Patricia’s life than what I knew, and I learned how to prepare food for 100 people who want to keep talking about a friend or family member’s life. Here are a few thoughts:

• If money is an object, ask friends and family members to prepare a few dishes, potluck style. Fill an igloo full of ice and make lemonade. Set up a coffee pot and have on hand the various condiments. Use decaf for such events because no one needs more caffeine in the afternoon. Mini-waters were on hand.
• Finger foods are an essential part of a memorial, because people want to walk around and talk with friends and family members. Think appetizers, vegetables, fruit, a few proteins, cheese and crackers and a multiple dessert items.
• For $300, you can provide a fine spread for mourners that can bridge lunch and dinner. I had three helpers get the food and drinks ready. One did the drinks, two helped me prepare food and one helped me clean up. We spent three hours prepping and one hour cleaning up.
• Here are a few items we did yesterday: cheese, salami and crackers; artichoke dip; nuts; various veggies with Ranch dressing; cold shrimp and spicy dip; finger sandwiches made with turkey and cheese; grapes; brownies and biscotti.

The best part was when things started winding down. We asked the family if we could send the left-over food with them, and they were elated. They were all going to one of their houses to continue reminiscing. When they got there, the abundance of food we gave them took the worry of cooking away from them for the evening. That gave them all more time to laugh and cry together as they remembered Patricia Maselli, who was laughing and crying along with them … from heaven above.

Stories About Food and Faith

Food should be fun. Food should be shared with friends and family. Food should be about feeding those who are hungry. I believe all those things should combine with our faith in God, because he is the creator of us and the food we eat. That’s what this blog is about. I want to tell you my stories about food and how I became the person I am.

I grew up on a farm in Arizona, surrounded by golden wheat stocks, crisp lettuce, sweet cantaloupe and thousands and thousands of cattle. My brother and I used to fish for catfish on the Colorado River a mile from my house. My first memories of cooking was of my grandmother and her fried chicken. I fell in love with Mexican food because the farm I grew up on was 30 miles from the Mexican border, and most of my dad’s laborers came from south of the border. Those guys used to bring the most scrumptious little burritos and sell them to us gringos for 50 cents apiece. When I got to college, I was the only one of my four roommates who could cook. I quickly found out that girls would pay for the food if I cooked on Friday nights.

Then cooking just sort of took a hiatus for 10 years after college while I focused on my newspaper journalism career. After my divorce in 1994, cooking became a hobby again. I baked at 1 a.m. when I got home from work. I started cooking healthy meals for my son, so he wouldn’t have to eat from box mixes and frozen junk. In the singles ministries I led in various churches, potlucks became a regular part of our gatherings. On campouts with single-parent families, we kept chili or stew hot on the fire, ready to feed families as they arrived. While mom and the kids chowed down, the guys would pitch their tent and make them feel at home for the weekend.

I started catering in 2004 with “Awesome Salsa & Guacamole,” mostly to make ends meet as a single dad. My son, one of his buddies and me would work a 10-foot x 10-foot screened area at art and wine festivals on weekends. I got to write about some of those adventures through a regular column in the local newspaper. My church started asking me to cater dinners. I wasn’t much with a hammer and nail on those roofing missions to Hackberry, La., but I sure could feed the troops some mighty fine grub. I even met my wife through food; she attended a dinner I helped cook at my church. Now we work together to cater that same monthly dinner.

Along the way, I began to see that food was a gift from God, given to us to, not only enjoy, but to relate to each other. In the Old Testament, the Israelites called their gatherings “feasts” or “festivals.” In the New Testament, Jesus seems to feel pretty comfortable slipping off his dusty sandals and eating a hardy meal every night with either saints or sinners – or both. He seemed rather irritated that his mom dragged him away from his friends to turn water into wine – the best wine. The last gathering with his disciples was over coal-baked fish on the beach for one last meal with his buddies. Sounds like he was having fun.

The Bible uses food countless times as metaphors for life. The Israelites ate manna falling from the sky. Fishermen, shepherds and farmers played key roles in biblical stories because they were simple and hard-working. The early sign of Christians was that of a fish. Jesus himself said, “I am the bread of life.” Sure seems to me that God gave us food to send us a few messages.

Food wasn’t meant to be bland, or else he wouldn’t have given us salt and dozens of other spices mentioned in the Bible to “flavor” food. He wants us to experience life abundantly. Get my point? Every time I cook, I see God, smell God, taste God and sense his presence as I cook, whether on my backyard barbecue, in my church’s kitchen or on a mission somewhere in the world.

Join me on this journey about faith, family, friends, feeding the hungry and having fun – all tied together through this wonderful thing we call food.

On Saturday, I'll be participating in a Chili Cookoff. Come visit me. You can find the necessary info at this link:

http://www.cornerstoneweb.org/livermore/events/events/Rimz_Ribz_2010.aspx