There seem to be two basic kinds of folk who are willing to make tamales:
1. Mexican grandmothers at Christmas
2. Crazy people.
Tamales, those luscious nuggets of corn dough concealing a flavorful (and often searingly spicy) filling, wrapped in a corn husk, are well known holiday fare here in Texas, where families gather together and start churning them out by the foil-wrapped dozen to sell to the drooling masses. Every Christmas my father was on the receiving end of tamale gifts galore, as he had once helped a little old lady fix her driveway, and ever since, said lady (and now, her granddaughter) brings him tamales every year.
The problem with authentic Mexican tamales is that they tend to be made with lard and stuffed with…well, we’ll call it beef. Tamales are a “don’t ask, don’t tell” experience. Because they’re so delicious, you look the other way…or at least you do if you’re a meat-eater. Vegetarian tamales tend to be some variation on bean and cheese, but most of the time the dough is still made with lard, so if you buy them in the store (a foreign concept to those of us who grew up in small Texas towns where tamales were plentiful) scrutinize the label carefully, unless you want to play Salmonella Roulette.
(I never once got sick off of homemade local tamales, no matter what was in them. The only ones that have ever made my stomach revolt are store-bought mass produced ones. Go figure.)
When I got my hands on a copy of Terry Hope Romero‘s Viva Vegan! which showcases Latin vegan cooking, I was thrilled to see an entire chapter devoted to tamale making. I’d been wanting to give tamales a try for a long time, but was too lazy to devote an entire afternoon to such labor-intensive food. Still, the book inspired me, and I almost offhandedly posted on Facebook that I wanted to make tamales this weekend. As luck would have it, my dear Lorrie (the photographer who created the images of me you see on this site) volunteered to come sling tamales and drink Margaritas, which sounded like one hell of a great Saturday. Next thing I knew I was up to my eyeballs in masa dough and a couple of extra Witches who were in the neighborhood and came to lend a hand (and a mouth).
Tamales take some specialized ingredients. They are made with a dough made from corn flour that has been treated with lime, known as masa harina (masa is Spanish for “dough”); they’re wrapped in soaked corn husks and then steamed on the stove. Masa and corn husks are both easily found here in Austin in the baking ingredients aisles of most grocery stores; ours, in fact, even has a store brand of masa. This same flour is used to make corn tortillas, as well as lesser-known Latin foods like pupusas and arepas. It’s also used to thicken chili or other Latin themed stews and soups. So having a bit of masa around (best to keep it in the fridge or freezer) is a handy thing, and it’s about two dollars for a five-pound bag. (For a flow chart on how corn becomes masa, check out the Wikipedia page.) Corn husks, too, keep forever if wrapped well, and are cheap.
All you really need equipment-wise is a big stock pot with a steamer insert, but I couldn’t find my little metal steamer basket so I went ahead and bought a genuine tamale pot, which has a removable steamer bottom and runs about ten to twelve dollars. The pot can be used for soups and stews and stocks as well, so it’s a definite multitasker, but if you already have a stock pot, just pay five bucks for a collapsible steamer basket and you’re good to go.
There are several steps to assembling tamales:
- Put the corn husks in warm water (a lasagna pan or plastic bin works great) to soak for 20 minutes, so they’ll be pliable.
- Make your filling and let it cool while you make your masa dough.
- Make the dough. Put the water in the pot on to boil.
- Lay out a single corn husk. Pat out about 2 tablespoons of masa dough onto the husk in a rectangle about 3″ by 4-5″. You want the dough layer to be thick enough to cover the husk but not more than, say, 1/8″.
- Spoon a bit of filling over the dough, no more than 1 tablespoon’s worth.
- Slowly and carefully wrap the husk around the dough, closing the masa over the filling and then folding the ends toward the middle. Use a strip of husk or kitchen twine to tie the tamale shut. Bundle 5-6 together and stand them on end in the steamer basket.
- When the steamer basket is full, lower it into the pot. You don’t want the water to touch the tamales; keep it about 1/2″ below the steamer’s bottom. You’ll need to add water periodically, because the tamales take about an hour (mine took 1:15) to steam.
- Allow to cool, then consume in mass quantities. And please don’t eat the husk. It’s just a wrapper. Compost it.
There are much more precise instructions out there on the internet, as well as in Terry’s lovely book, but I just wanted to give the gist. Sound like a lot of work? Well, it IS. If you want to undertake such an operation enlist the help of a couple of friends. Bribe them with Dos Equis and tamales. As far as the recipes themselves:
Masa
(Makes enough for about four dozen tamales…and yes, they freeze well)
5 cups masa harina
3/4 cup vegetable shortening (I prefer Earth Balance)
3/4 cup vegan butter substitute (again, EB)
1 carton vegetable broth, warmed
3 tsp baking powder
2 tsp salt
2 tsp garlic powder
1 ~ Cream the shortening and butter together, then add in everything else and beat until a mashed-potato sort of consistency is formed. Use right away.
Vegan Black Bean Tamale Filling, The Cheater Way
(Makes enough to use up all that masa and leave you with about 1/2 cup of filling to eat with chips later)
2 cans refried black beans (the kind I bought had roasted red jalapenos already in them)
1 onion, chopped finely
1 bell pepper, chopped finely (I used a pre-frozen roasted bell pepper mix and chopped it smaller)
1 tablespoon cumin
1 tsp salt
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 ~ Saute the onion and pepper in oil until soft. When the onion is translucent add in the cumin and salt and stir to coat. Let cook for 3 minutes.
2 ~ Add the beans and tomato paste. Cook until the beans are hot through. Taste for additional seasoning. I am a total wuss when it comes to heat, so you might want to add a chopped canned chipotle pepper in adobo sauce to spice it up.
For a more visual and less articulate version of the assembly instructions, see the following highly professional illustration.









