Travels of the Bay family and the Yoda Van

Tamales are a typical Christmas dish in Costa Rica.  When we were in Guatemala, the Spanish school we were attending had a cooking class every week.  Both times we made tamales.  Ever since we went to Mexico in April last year I had wanted to try and make my own tamales.  Now that we are living in a place with a kitchen I decided to give it a try.

We did some shopping for Christmas dinner and I picked up a few things for tamales: tomatoes, chicken, onions, masa (some sort of corn flour used for making tamales).  I found a recipe on the internet for a filling and made it on the evening of the 23^rd.  It ended out tasting good.  Cooking this simple mixture was more fun than you could imagine for me, since we’ve hardly done any cooking in the last 5 months.  We’ve done really simple cooking, but nothing that is even the slightest bit labor intensive.  To be able to spread out and just cook like at home is fun by itself.

Where it really became interesting was working with the banana leaves.  In some parts of Latin America people make tamales with corn husks.  In others they make them with banana leaves.  I guess that the deciding factor in which one they use is what crop is near and more readily abundant.  We’ve driven through numerous banana plantations in Costa Rica, so I figure it is just a matter of convenience that they wrap their tamales in banana leaves instead of corn husks.

Matthias and I went out for an hour and a half to do our Christmas shopping in the center of town.  The streets were bustling with activity, people selling their wares on every corner, lots of people shouting announcing what they are selling and what a good deal it is, cars passing and honking.  The market place is nestled on the inside of one street block.  It is a series of dark, narrow, isles lined with stalls of people selling everything imaginable.  Near the meat and fish vendors the smell is quite distinct.  We wound our way through this maze and left with two and a half kilos of banana leaves. 

At home I began to unfold and inspect the leaves.  Each leaf is around 5 feet long.  The tips tend to be sliced into small narrow strips, and the larger sections, big enough for steaming tamales, are at the other end.  I sorted through each leaf, saving sections large enough for tamales and discarding the narrow strands.  The smell of the leaves is earthy and a bit unpleasant.  I wondered if the smell would transfer to my tamales.  After sorting through this pile, I washed each section and hung them out to dry like laundry. 

Working with the leaves was such a great experience.  They are fibrous and thick like a piece of canvas with a thick center stem.  But they are also smooth and fibrous.  In one direction the leaves are sturdy and impermeable.  In the other direction they rip without effort.  The ease with which the leaves split is fulfilling and fun.   (Matthias put some pictures of me working with the tamales on our flickr site: http://www.flickr.com/photos/thebays)

I figured my parents must really wonder about me.  They raised a good girl in Woodinville, Washington and here they see me quitting my good job at Microsoft, taking off in an old van, and here they meet us where I bring home a bag of unknown.  I explore them unfolding these massive leaves, not native to the Northwest, and take over the kitchen with these long wide leaves.  I’m not sure they know what to make of all this, but at least they are open as I am their daughter. 

On the evening of the 24^th I started to make the tamales.  The dough is just a mixture of corn flour, oil and water.  I mixed it with my hands and once I had the right consistency I started to spread the dough on the squares of banana leaves.  The filling is smeared on top of the dough, and then you fold them up like a small package.  I read on the internet that it is a good idea to wrap each tamale in a second piece of banana leaf and then tie them with a piece of twine.  When I had used up the tomato-chicken filling I added sugar to the rest of the mass and continue making sweet tamales for dessert. 

To cook them I took some forks and spoons and put them in the bottom of a pot with about an inch of water.  This was to keep the tamales above the boiling water since we didn’t have room for a tamale steamer in the Yoda Van.  I lined the pot with banana leaves and put the tamales in the pot on their side.  They were steamed for about 45 minutes and they actually turned out wonderful.  Even my Dad and Matthias (who both admitted to not really liking tamales) said they were good.  Knowing Matthias, he’s pretty straight up about what he thinks.  I’d know he’d tell me if he didn’t like it, so they must have been alright.

It was nice to spend Christmas a different way, in a different place than usual, with different food.  However, for me, and I think for all of us, it makes us look forward to spending Christmas next year the way we always do, in Woodinville with our good friends the Richards.  We’ve spent Christmas with them for so many years and this was the first time in a long time that I’ve missed it.  Spending time away from what you know is the best way to find out what is important and reminds me what to appreciate.

Matthias came up with the idea to occasionally have some guest entries on our blogs. This entry is the first guest entry. Our good friend Kim Thomas is the author. Anyone interested in submitting a guest entry should e-mail us at lotzbay@msn.com.

Christmas music has taken a turn for the worse lately, but there is definitely an antidote out there and it is called Bartell Drugs. Not for the drugs, but for the music. I go to Bartell’s a lot just to look around when I think I might need something, like a new toothbrush or canned tuna. When I am between tutoring appointments I feel a pull. I just need to get out of the house, I say to myself. Then I walk outside my building and know where I’m headed.

In Providence CVS Pharmacy had the same pull. Only I never knew why until this afternoon. Today, they were playing Fleetwood Mac in the store when I realized I didn’t need anything. I say “they” like Bartell’s has a purposeful DJ mixing it up in that room behind the milk case. Stevie Nick’s voice was quivering away about a woman who was, I think, flying just like a woman. The drama touched me while I surveyed the Neutrogena products for something that might be suitable for a low cost Christmas present. Then Steely Dan came on, and you know I was hooked. I made every effort to find something that I needed just so that I could see what might be next – just to prolong the groove. Dude, Elton John. Singing “Daniel.”

Nordstrom and Banana Republic and just about every other store on the planet – except for 7-Eleven – issues their own holiday music samplers. I know this is part of a hideously overdeveloped marketing culture. You can’t buy the feeling of the song (“Celebrate good times come on”), but you can buy (well, I did) a headband from the Gap, pale blue suede, that looked like it might hold the key to a funky time. Probably it reminded me of something I wore when the song first came out. If only Bartell’s could issue a lifestyle CD then I could buy it and bring it home and feel great all the time. We who shop regularly, compulsively even, would buy it to keep the sweet sweet feeling of clean rows of boxed Q-tips alive in the home. I wish my bathroom could look handsome and stocked. I don’t have a counter top around my sink, so I keep Q-tips in a ziploc bag and sometimes water gets in and I need to throw them away. See, even though I don’t travel I live like I travel. Think about Billy Joel piano intros and I think you’ll get an image of fresh full bottles of shampoo. The Bee-Gees conjure non-crusty toothbrushes. These are things it sounds like the The Bay family could use.

I don’t spend a lot of money there – maybe I do. It’s just a good time taking it aisle by aisle.

Say Bartell’s went along with me on this one. (They won’t. I asked already. When I asked the woman about an album, “all the greats together at last,” she looked at me like I was playing a Borat stunt. Then she said, Dude, remember K-Tel tapes? Find one.) If they did go along with the concept and produce an album would I become a shut in playing the thing into the ground, possibly tying a scarf around my forehead? Or, would I dump the CD on the crap heap of the rest of the stuff I own and love but ignore? The mystery of this simmers with possibility and remains unknowable. Best of all is the group shot of my favorite cashiers on the imaginary cover – red vests blazing, smartly knotted ties. Efficient yet personable. In control. In the house.

The Bay family travels the world watching the sun set in new colors in different countries. Monkeys may scramble atop their camper. Lizards may flick their tongues in refreshingly foreign languages while the kids play in the sunlight and waves. Mojitos refill themselves in the glass. The ghost of Frieda Kahlo appears in the background of every south-of-the-border family photo. Meanwhile, I walk the familiar roads, checking the environment for potential small discrepancies – signs of change, signs of stasis – and wonder if I am not overly attached to my block, my language, my Bartell Drugs.

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We uploaded some pictures of Nicaragua and Costa Rica.

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