10 Ways Making Christmas Tamales Tested My Will To Live

Talk tamales to me, baby!

Graphic by me :)

I haven’t made tamales since high school. Never needed to. My mom hated my presence in the kitchen (I was allegedly too messy and bad at listening) and I lacked the stamina. But as I continue my journey to bring my Tex-Mex Christmas traditions to Brooklyn, I became obsessed with the idea of making tamales, even though I knew they take at least 12 hours to make.

Alas, here I am, humbled by the journey I have undertaken. I have learned a lot of things about myself, about tamales, and about cooking at large. Hell, I’m not even done making them, but I feel compelled to document my process in this fun little blog. Maybe one day when I’m inducted in the Abuela Hall of Fame, I will look at this and laugh. But for now, I’ll just take the L’s and go. Here are the 10 ways making tamales made me question my worth as a person:

1. My dad laughed at me when I told him I’d try making tamales and I quote, “I’m not gonna say anything other than good luck. Oh wait, and don’t call me crying if this blows up in your face.”
2. I walked two miles to find corn husks. This was actually kind of fun, but I was terrified that they would be sold out.
3. I lugged five pounds of pork butt up my three flights of stairs. I know this doesn’t sound…