Green Chicken Tamales (Tamales Verdes)

Bayamón. Home. The airport in San Juan releases you into air that is warm and thick and smells like rain and exhaust and flowers and freedom, and every time — every single time, thirty-one years of returns — my body does the same thing: it exhales. Not the lungs. The body. The entire organism releasing a tension it did not know it was holding, a tension that accumulates in Hartford through the winter months and that only dissolves when the air temperature is above seventy-five and the sky is the specific blue of the Caribbean and the coquí frogs are singing and you are standing on soil that made you.

Marisol picked me up at the airport. My sister, sixty-seven, who never left the island, who watched the rest of us scatter to the mainland and stayed, who rode out Hurricane María in 2017 and rebuilt and stayed, who is the anchor of the Delgado family in the place where the Delgado family began. She drove me to her house in Bayamón — not the concrete block house where we grew up, that house was torn down after María, replaced by a newer structure — but a house nearby, close enough that when I walk to the corner I can see where our kitchen used to be, where Abuela Consuelo used to stand stirring arroz con dulce for three hours, where Mami used to make sofrito in batches big enough for seven children.

I went to the market on Saturday. The market in Bayamón is not a grocery store — it is an argument conducted in Spanish at high volume between vendors and customers who have known each other for forty years, over produce that was in the ground this morning and will be in a pot this afternoon. I bought culantro, recao, ají dulce, garlic, tomatoes, and a bunch of plítanos that the vendor handed me with the confidence of a man selling perfection. I smelled the culantro. I held it to my face and closed my eyes and breathed and the smell was Mami's kitchen, Abuela Consuelo's hands, 1975, seven children, the bathroom line starting at 5 AM, the noise, the heat, the love. All of it in one leaf.

Marisol and I cooked together — arroz con pollo, the way Mami made it, in Marisol's kitchen that is smaller than mine but has the same energy, the same authority, the same understanding that the kitchen is the center of the house and the center of the house is the center of the life. We ate on her porch in the evening air and the air was warm and the food was right and I was home and the homesickness that lives in my chest every day in Hartford was, for one evening, quiet.

Marisol and I cooked arroz con pollo that evening, but it was the culantro—that sharp, grassy, almost medicinal leaf—that I could not stop thinking about on the flight back to Hartford, the smell of it still somehow on my hands. These Green Chicken Tamales (Tamales Verdes) are what I made the following weekend, my way of holding onto the market, the porch, the evening air a little longer: chicken steeped in a bright, herb-forward green salsa, wrapped in masa and steamed until the whole kitchen fills with something that almost, almost feels like being there.

Prep Time: 45 min | Cook Time: 1 hr 30 min | Total Time: 2 hr 15 min | Servings: 12 tamales

Ingredients

12–16 dried corn husks, soaked in warm water at least 1 hour
2 lbs bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs
4 cups water
1/2 white onion, divided
4 garlic cloves, divided
1 1/2 tsp salt, divided, plus more to taste
1 lb tomatillos, husked and rinsed
2 jalapeño peppers, stems removed
1 poblano pepper
1/2 cup fresh cilantro leaves and tender stems
1 tbsp vegetable oil
4 cups masa harina (instant corn masa flour)
1 tsp baking powder
1 cup lard or vegetable shortening, softened
2 1/2 cups warm chicken broth (reserved from poaching)

Instructions

Soak the husks. Place corn husks in a large bowl or sink of very warm water. Weight them down with a heavy pot or plate and soak for at least 1 hour, until fully pliable and soft. Drain before using.
Poach the chicken. Place chicken thighs in a medium saucepan with 4 cups water, 1/4 onion, 2 garlic cloves, and 1 tsp salt. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer uncovered for 28–32 minutes until cooked through. Remove chicken and reserve the broth. Once cool enough to handle, shred the meat and discard skin and bones.
Make the green salsa. Arrange tomatillos, jalapeños, poblano, remaining 1/4 onion, and remaining 2 garlic cloves on a foil-lined baking sheet. Broil on high, turning once, for 8–10 minutes until charred in spots. Transfer to a blender with the cilantro and 1/2 tsp salt; blend until smooth. Heat oil in a saucepan over medium-high, pour in the salsa carefully (it will splatter), and simmer for 8–10 minutes, stirring, until slightly thickened and darkened. Season to taste.
Season the filling. Combine shredded chicken with about half the green salsa in a bowl. Toss to coat. Reserve the remaining salsa for spreading inside the tamales.
Make the masa dough. In a stand mixer or large bowl, beat lard on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. In a separate bowl, whisk together masa harina, baking powder, and 1/2 tsp salt. Add dry ingredients to the lard alternately with the warm reserved chicken broth, mixing on medium speed until a soft, spreadable dough forms. The dough is ready when a small ball floats in a cup of cold water.
Assemble the tamales. Lay a soaked corn husk flat, wide end toward you. Spread about 3 tbsp of masa dough into a thin rectangle, leaving a 1 1/2-inch border on the sides and a 2-inch border at the narrow top. Spoon 1 tbsp of reserved green salsa over the masa, then add 2–3 tbsp of chicken filling down the center. Fold one long side of the husk over the filling, then fold the other side over. Fold up the narrow bottom end and secure with a thin strip of soaked corn husk tied around the middle, leaving the top open. Repeat with remaining husks, masa, and filling.
Steam the tamales. Set a steamer basket in a large, deep pot and add enough water to reach just below the basket. Stand tamales upright, open end up, leaning against each other. Cover with a layer of extra soaked corn husks, then a clean kitchen towel, then the lid. Steam over medium heat for 60–75 minutes, adding boiling water as needed to maintain the level. Tamales are done when the masa pulls away cleanly from the husk.
Rest and serve. Remove from steamer and let rest 10 minutes before unwrapping—this allows the masa to firm up. Serve with extra green salsa alongside.

Nutrition (per serving, 1 tamale)

Green Chicken Tamales (Tamales Verdes) — The Flavor of Coming Home