TAMALES

Where did they come from, how did they wind up in a glass jar and where did they go?

            Once again we have to look back to get the true story of tamales. We have to go back eight or ten thousand years when Andy Aztec was really getting tired of the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches his wife Emma always fixed for him to take on his hunting trips.

            He came home from one of those hunting trips and threw a flamingo down on the table and told her to chop it up and make him something different for the next hunt.

            Emma had a crock full of masa, a starchy dough that she was going to make pancakes with. (I have already told you enough about pancakes) She chopped up the flamingo added some onions and spices and rolled it up in the masa. Then she wrapped the whole thing in a corn husk and steamed it.

            She packed several of them into his lunch pouch the next time he went hunting. When he returned he gave Emma a big kiss and a swat on the behind telling her that the flamingo tarts were delicious but that the coating on them was hard to chew and almost indigestible. She told him that the corn husk was supposed to be removed before eating.

            “That is a great idea, it will make them so much better. What do you call them?” he asked. “So’s I can tell the guys.”

            She thought about if for a minute. The Aztec word, tamalii, came to mind.   It meant “wrapped food.” They are called “Tamales.” she smiled.

            The Derby company put them up in glass jars because eight of them fit perfectly and they looked good.

            The company name possibly is associated with the Kentucky Derby.  The Tamale is the dish that best embodies "the backside" of the Derby, where all those that work with the horses live and work. Most of them are from Central America, and due to the migratory nature of the job and a lack of kitchen access, they rely on hot plates and crockpots to re-create their traditional cuisine.

            When I was a kid, the Derby glass jars of tamales were readily available There were always a couple of jars in the pantry. Ready to be popped open for lunch or a late night snack. You just heated them up and unrolled them on top a piece of rye bread and  added some horse radish.

            I haven’t seen any of those glass jars around for quite some time but recently my wife visited a specialty market out in Hartwell and brought home two “cans” of Derby Tamales. There were eight of them in each can, just like the jars used to hold. They were delicious.

            Later my wife looked more closely at those cans. The tamales we had were packed around the beginning of this century but they didn’t make us sick. So let’s hear it for preservatives.

            Derby went out of business about the time they canned those tamales so no mo tamales.

            Oh sure, all the Mexican restaurants serve tamales but they are big round things in real corn husks with real mixtures of fresh ground meat, vegetables and spices. They aren’t any thing like those paper wrapped, cornmeal covered, mystery stuffed beauties we used to get from a glass jar.

            If you are as old as I am you might remember, during the thirties, the Molly Man at Eighth and State. He stood at his cart beside the bank building and sold hot tamales. “Molly, Molly, Hot Tomale, get em while dere hot Tomale,” He would sing.

            It was always a treat, the nights my Dad would close the bar early and take me down to see the Molly Man. His tamales were a lot like the glass jar kind, but way better.