May 25, 2006
Washington Cooks: The Legend of Zora's Masa
Standing in her galley kitchen, Zora Margolis observes how impractical it is for a seasoned chef. "I don't have enough counter space for all my machines," she said. But Margolis has a soft spot for the kitchen because it was built by her husband Jonathan Alderfer when he was young.
Margolis and Alderfer were married 35 years ago in this house Alderfer's grandfather bought in the 1940s. Framed by azaleas, peonies, and boxwoods, the bungalow nestled in the neighborhood behind the reservoir is long on charm and a little wild, much like the kitchen is today.
Margolis, a native of Los Angeles, is halfway through the process of making traditional Mexican tamales the way she remembers them. "Most of those you'll find around town are Salvadorian," she said. Though D.C. has evolved with regard to specialty groceries, ethnic eateries, and fine dining, many people like Margolis miss foods from home -- be it bagels or baklava. As a result, they're taking it upon themselves to cook what they're craving, which requires mastering more complicated techniques, researching authentic recipes, or taking classes.
Margolis and Alderfer moved to Washington from L.A. in 1996, when Alderfer's parents decided to move to a retirement community. Though it had been already decided that Alderfer's parents' house would stay in the family, the prospect of living there was such a draw for Margolis and Alderfer they decided to head east and call it home.
One aspect of moving to Washington that Margolis hadn't anticipated was how difficult it would be to find authentic Mexican food. Notwithstanding the fact that her family isn't of Mexican descent, "I grew up with Mexican flavors since I was two," she said. "The flavor that I missed the most is that of fresh masa, the basic flavor of Mexican cooking."
Masa is a key ingredient in tamales. It differs from cornmeal in that it is boiled with calcium oxide -- or lime. This process helps remove the hull and transforms the carbohydrates so that, when combined with beans, it forms a protein. In early Mexican cookery, this was especially important, as protein from animals was scarce while beans and corn were relatively plentiful.
When Margolis first got here, she looked for Mexican delis and mixtecs but couldn't find any. And she certainly didn't find any real masa. "At the time, all I could find was instant masa," which she likened to making risotto from Minute Rice.
And so Margolis decided to make her own tamales -- and her own masa. At first, she experimented by making the masa from various kinds of corn. "It was interesting -- some of them were good -- but it wasn't authentic." She couldn't find the authenticity that she remembered until she attended a book signing for Rick Bayless, owner of Chicago's Topolobampo and Frontero Grill, author of Mexico, One Plate at a Time, and one of the most renowned chefs in authentic Mexican cooking. Bayless told her to use American field corn, which she couldn't find in local stores. During a visit back to California, she bought what Bayless suggested and hauled it back east.
The Process
Making quality tamales from scratch isn't for the novice cook or the faint of heart. One must be a master of timing, ad-libbing, and multi-tasking. Margolis certainly is one such master. The night before I visited her, she stewed pork dressed with "typical Mexican spices" -- cumin, all-spice, pepper, oregano. During the preparation process, she had also rendered lard from pork belly she'd bought from H Mart, soaked corn husks, and roasted anchos, chipotles, and guajillo chilies on the stove.
By the time I arrived, the rendered lard was sufficiently gelatinous for Margolis to transfer into a Kitchen-Aid mixer, which whipped the lard until it looked like frosting. And when the lard was airy, she ground the corn in a Vita-Mix -- a high-powered food processor that makes a Cuisinart seem like a kid's toy. She then combined the pulverized corn with the lard in the mixer, adding baking powder and broth from last night's pork stew. Eventually, the mixture took on a light, grainy consistency.
To assess whether the masa was finished, Margolis used the float test: fill a measuring cup with water, drop in a dollop of masa to see if it floats, keep mixing if it doesn't. When the masa floated, we could stuff the corn husks with the masa, the stewed pork, and hot chile salsa (the mixture for which she'd prepared in the VIta-Mix using blended chiles, roasted tomatillos, tomatoes, onions, and lime juice which had simmered all day). After we steamed the stuffed corn husks on the range for about a hour, it would be time to eat.
In the meantime, Margolis prepared a cold tomatillo salsa for the tamales and some guacamole for chips. "Mexican food is a lot like Indian food. Fry, toast, roast: there are lots of layers and processes that make it complex," she said.
But what if you're a novice cook and haven't developed the skills or the confidence to embark on a day long cooking adventure such as this one? First, says Margolis, invest in a couple of good cookbooks from someone who knows the culture and the cuisine. For Mexican food, Margolis relies on Diane Kennedy's My Mexico -- and, of course, anything by Rick Bayless. Zora also recommended finding a book specific to the dish you'll make. Well beyond her early experiences with tamales, she was given Tamales 101 by Alice Guadalupe Tapp. "I wish I had it when I started," she said.
Other home cooks recommend pulling two different recipes for one dish and making them within a couple days or weeks of each other. In the process, write down what you liked or what went wrong. For your third try, you're ready to take what you've learned and perfect your recipe. "The more you'll practice," said Margolis, "the better you'll be."
Clearly, Margolis has had plenty of practice. When the tamales were done, we unwrapped the husks, generously doused them with chile salsa, and garnished them with cilantro. Although he'd eaten Margolis' tamales many times before, Alderfer was as enthusiastic as I was for dinner since Margolis usually reserves tamale making for holidays and special occasions. Though it wasn't a holiday, the day was special. After a glass of rosé and a generous serving of tamales and beans, we were plenty full and glad we could reap the benefits.
Do you know of a great home cook who has a passion for a dish, an ingredient, or a particular type of cuisine? Please send suggestions and contact information to Melissa McCart.





take it from a mexican girl, the tamales here suck! cheers for margolis on showing you how to make tamales, but as she said it's for holidays because it takes forever and alot of hands to make. yes, the tameladas take an entire weekend to complete, the making of the masa, the making of the filling, the making of the tamales is a family affair that takes an assembly line of cousins to prepare. I always got the job of spreading the masa on the husk, which is the crappiest job to have.
goddam i miss the homecookin'! =(
pork, chicken, chile verde tamales, i will always love thee - - - but sweet tamales will always have a special place in my
That was fascinating- particularly some of the background on Zora, who is one of the more prolific members of the D.C. food message board community.
There really is a shortage of quality tamales in the D.C. area, though I'm mostly satisfied with the Salvadoran sweet tamal with crema combo.
Any tamale fanatic spending a few days in NYC should absolutely check out the tiny Sucelt Coffee Shop (14th St. at 7th Ave). It offers at least four different styles of Tamale according to country: Venezuelan, Panamanian, Colombian, and Puerto Rican. And the homemade hot sauce there is amazing. Great greasy spoon atmosphere, too.
In the Rio Grande Valley they sell masa-spreaders in the grocery store. They're just overpriced plastic trowels, but I found myself mesmerised by the infomercials playing on the TVs above the diplays. Boy could that lady spread masa.