Chicken Tamales — What Rosa Always Made at Christmas

Abuela Rosa died on June 4th. Terry called me at seven in the morning on Sunday and I knew from the tone before she said anything — there is a particular quality to my mother's voice when she is holding something very large very still, the way you hold something fragile with both hands and do not move. Rosa had passed in her sleep, the night before, at her home in McAlester. She was seventy-nine. She had been declining since January and Terry had been down to see her twice this spring. The decline was known and expected and none of that made the phone call any smaller.

I drove to Terry's. Danny was in his chair and he was not crying — Danny does not cry in the visible way, or if he does he does it somewhere private — but he was very still and very quiet in a way that was different from his usual quiet. Rosa was not his mother but she was the mother of his wife of thirty-two years and she was the one who had welcomed him into her family at a time when a Cherokee man marrying a Mexican-American woman from Texas was not a simple social transaction. She had made him tamales at Christmas since before Lily was born. She had called him "mijo" which is what Mexican mothers call the men who love their daughters. He had loved her back in the specific way of a man who received a gift he knew he did not entirely deserve.

Terry made coffee and I sat with them. I did not cook anything. Sometimes you do not cook anything and you just sit. That is allowed. You do not always have to feed a grief. Sometimes you just have to be in the room with it.

I drove back Sunday night and held Hannah for a long time in the kitchen. She had loved Rosa. Rosa had been part of Hannah's introduction to this family, to this specific braid of Cherokee and Mexican that is what our table is made of. Hannah did not cook either, that night. We ordered pizza and ate it in the living room and put the kids to bed and that was June 4th, 2017.

We didn’t cook that night, and I’m not going to pretend we did. But in the days after, when I started thinking about Rosa — really thinking about her, not just the loss of her — what kept coming back was the tamales. She made them every Christmas for Danny without ever being asked twice. She made them because he was hers now, because Terry was hers, because that’s what you do when you claim someone. I don’t have her recipe. Nobody does, probably. But tamales are tamales, and making them is a way of saying her name with your hands.

Chicken Tamales

Prep Time: 1 hour 30 min | Cook Time: 1 hour 15 min | Total Time: 2 hours 45 min | Servings: 24 tamales

Ingredients

• 24 dried corn husks
• 3 cups masa harina
• 2 1/4 cups warm chicken broth, divided
• 1/2 cup lard or vegetable shortening
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 cups shredded cooked chicken
• 1 cup red chile sauce (store-bought or homemade)
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/4 teaspoon dried oregano

Instructions

1. Soak the husks. Place dried corn husks in a large bowl or pot and cover completely with hot water. Weigh them down with a plate to keep them submerged. Soak for at least 1 hour until pliable and soft.
2. Make the filling. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, combine shredded chicken, red chile sauce, cumin, garlic powder, and oregano. Stir to coat the chicken evenly and cook for 5–7 minutes until heated through and fragrant. Remove from heat and set aside.
3. Make the masa. In a large bowl, beat lard or shortening with a hand mixer until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. In a separate bowl, combine masa harina, baking powder, and salt. Add the dry mixture to the lard alternately with 2 cups of warm chicken broth, mixing until a soft, spreadable dough forms. It should be the consistency of thick peanut butter. If too stiff, add remaining broth a tablespoon at a time.
4. Prepare the husks. Drain the soaked corn husks and pat dry. Tear a few husks into thin strips to use as ties. Lay husks flat on a clean surface.
5. Assemble the tamales. Spread about 2 tablespoons of masa onto the center of a corn husk, leaving a 1-inch border at the top and sides and a 2-inch border at the bottom. Spoon about 1 tablespoon of chicken filling down the center of the masa. Fold the long sides of the husk over the filling so the masa edges meet and enclose the filling, then fold the bottom flap up. Tie loosely with a husk strip to secure.
6. Steam the tamales. Stand tamales upright, open end up, in a large steamer basket set over a pot with 2 inches of simmering water. Pack them snugly so they hold each other upright. Cover tightly with a lid and steam for 70–80 minutes, adding water to the pot as needed. Tamales are done when the masa pulls cleanly away from the husk.
7. Rest before serving. Let tamales rest for 10 minutes before unwrapping — they will firm up as they cool slightly. Serve with extra red chile sauce or salsa on the side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 160 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 16g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 310mg