Memorial Day weekend. Twenty-six people at the altar — Jessica's word for the outdoor kitchen has become the family's word, used without irony, accepted as the correct name for a cooking space that has become the center of our social universe. The smoker ran from midnight to noon. The charcoal grill ran from 9 AM to 4 PM. The flat-top handled corn, burgers, and the griddled birria tortillas that have become a fixture at every Rivera gathering since the Super Bowl debut.
The station ceremony that morning was the first I attended as a Battalion Chief-designate (the promotion is effective July 1st, but the department recognizes the rank early for ceremonial purposes). I stood in the bay with the flag and the bell and the names of the fallen and I thought about seventeen years on this job. Seventeen years of fires and medical calls and midnight alarms and the particular sacrifice of missing dinners and birthdays and first steps and first days of school. The fire department gave me a career. It also gave me the cooking — the firehouse kitchen, the green chile stew, the Taco Tuesdays, the crew that became a family. The fire department made me a firefighter and a cook and a leader. Rivera's will be built on what the department taught me.
The food at the cookout: smoked pork shoulder (twelve hours, apple wood), Roberto's carne asada, Sofia's corn with her modified chile-lime butter, Diego's contribution (he arranged the chips and salsa on the table, his most productive cookout contribution to date), and a new dish: smoked beef short ribs, dinosaur-style — massive, bone-in, rubbed with my competition blend, smoked for six hours until the meat pulls from the bone like a curtain. The short ribs were for Roberto. He has been asking me to make "the big ribs" since he saw them on a food show and declared, "Those are the ribs for a real man." Roberto is sixty-four and has never questioned his masculinity but believes that rib size is proportional to character. The short ribs were enormous. Roberto ate three. His character remains beyond question.
Roberto got his dinosaur ribs — three of them, which settled the question of his character once and for all — but it was the smaller bites that kept people at the altar longest, the things you reach for between conversations without even thinking. The griddled birria tortillas started that tradition at the Super Bowl, and these one-bite tamales have been waiting to join them ever since. After seventeen years of firehouse Taco Tuesdays and every Rivera gathering in between, I know that the dish people remember is never the biggest one on the table — it’s the one they ate four of while telling a story they’ll be repeating for the next decade.
One Bite Tamales
Prep Time: 45 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour | Total Time: 1 hour 45 minutes | Servings: 24 mini tamales
Ingredients
- 24 dried corn husks, soaked in warm water for 30 minutes and drained
- 3 cups masa harina (such as Maseca)
- 2 cups warm chicken or pork broth
- 1/2 cup lard or vegetable shortening, at room temperature
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1 cup red chile pork filling (or shredded chicken in salsa verde)
- 1/2 cup red chile sauce, plus more for serving
- 1/4 cup shredded Oaxacan or Monterey Jack cheese (optional)
Instructions
- Make the masa. In a large bowl, beat the lard or shortening with an electric mixer until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. In a separate bowl, combine masa harina, baking powder, and salt. Gradually add the warm broth to the masa harina mixture, stirring until a soft, pliable dough forms. Add the masa dough to the beaten lard in three additions, mixing well after each until fully incorporated. The masa is ready when a small ball floats in a glass of cold water.
- Prepare the corn husks. Pat soaked corn husks dry with a kitchen towel. Trim any that are very wide so they are roughly 4 to 5 inches across — you want these to produce a single-bite tamale, so smaller husks are ideal. Tear a few husks into thin strips to use as ties.
- Spread and fill. Lay a corn husk flat on your work surface, smooth side up. Spread about 2 tablespoons of masa in a thin, even layer across the center of the husk, leaving a 1-inch border on all sides. Place 1 teaspoon of filling in the center of the masa, and top with a small drizzle of red chile sauce and a pinch of cheese if using.
- Fold and tie. Fold the long sides of the husk over the filling, then fold the tapered end up. Secure with a husk strip tie. Repeat with remaining husks and masa until all are filled.
- Steam. Stand tamales upright, open end up, in a large steamer basket set over a pot with 2 to 3 inches of simmering water. Pack them snugly so they hold each other upright. Cover tightly with a lid and steam for 55 to 65 minutes, checking the water level and replenishing as needed. Tamales are done when the masa pulls cleanly away from the husk.
- Rest and serve. Remove from the steamer and allow to rest for 5 minutes before serving — they will firm up slightly as they cool. Serve in the husk with extra red chile sauce on the side.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 105 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 5g | Carbs: 12g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 195mg