
An abundance of on-demand calories available in supermarkets makes it easy to forget that (1) food comes from the land and (2) it has been heavily influenced by human history and culture. The humble tamal is a reminder.
The dish’s origin dates back thousands of years—speculated as somewhere between 8000 and 5000 BCE. A record of it was discovered in the Dresden Codex, one of the oldest collections of Indigenous records to survive colonialism. The early importance of corn as a staple in the diets of pre-Columbian cultures and its significance in ceremonies secured the tamal’s place on the table throughout history.
Tamaladas—essentially tamal-making occasions—were described in the mid-1500s as gatherings of people of all ages. The events would last for many hours, often into the night, and involve equal amounts of socializing and food preparation.
IT’S A PROCESS
It all starts with the corn, or maize, but not all corn is created equal. Sweet corn—also known as green corn—has a higher sugar content than the field or dent corn used to make masa. Once the corn is harvested and husked, the masa maker removes the kernels and mixes them with an alkaline solution in which the corn is cooked and soaked before it’s drained, washed, and dried. Called nixtamalization, this complex process makes the nutrients more bioavailable and improves the flavor, aroma, and texture of the corn.
The resulting product, called nixtamal, is wet-milled to create a dough of sorts. This dough is spread out to dry and then milled again to create the fine flour used in making tortillas and tamales. It’s essential to note that corn flour and cornmeal are not substitutes.
The word masa is used interchangeably and can be confusing. When the corn has been fully processed and milled into a flour, it’s called masa harina. You may also hear it called Maseca—after its leading manufacturer. The word can also refer to the middle or end stage of the process, when it becomes dough-like.
In modern times, you combine masa harina with fat, liquid, baking powder, and salt to make the masa dough. Lard (introduced by Europeans) is the traditional fat, though some recipes replace it with olive oil.
Depending on the recipe, additional ingredients are worked into the dough before being wrapped or spread in layers around a filling. The origin of the recipe often dictates the wrapper: corn husks, banana leaves, or, more recently, chard.
ELIZA’S TAMALES

Jesus Quintero recalls his grandmother being very picky about her recipe. “She did not rely on shortcuts and would boil tomatoes to make sauce and use chicken broth made from scratch.” She passed away when he was 5, and the recipe went to his aunts, and finally to him.
After losing their house in a fire, Jesus and his wife, Elizabeth, tested and refined the recipe for months before officially launching Eliza’s Tamales seven years ago. “I learned that the fresher the product, the better the tamale came out. Everything we do is from scratch,” says Jesus. “The red chile is a family recipe and made with watermelon chiles, which have a sweeter flavor.” The red chile pork is a regular on the menu; red chile beef is only offered around the holidays.
“When I grew up, green chile tamales weren’t common,” says Jesus. When creating that recipe, they first used tomatillos and habaneros. They tried Sonoran chiltepin, but it was too hot and too inconsistent. The final recipe relies on sautéed jalapeños, which bring a balance of flavor and heat to their green chile pork and green chile chicken tamales.
“Our recipe is from El Dorado, Kansas,” Jesus says with a chuckle. “My grandmother learned how to make tamales from her stepmother.”
He says one of the things that has made Eliza’s so popular is their proportions. “We put 4–5 ounces of meat in our tamale, and there’s probably 3 ounces of masa. A lot of folks do the opposite.” You might think that someone who once lost everything they owned would be more conservative, but stinginess has no place in Jesus’s business, despite the rising costs—$800 per week on tamale husks alone.
“Food is the one thing you cannot provide to people while being selfish,” he says. “You have to look at it like, we are human beings and we are all family. We cannot fight over money. Money is the lowest thing on the ground that we as human beings should be fighting over.”

ELOTE CAFE
Jeff Smedstad, owner and chef of Elote Cafe in Sedona, probably would never have guessed he’d spend 18+ years serving Mexican-inspired cuisine. “I was a kid in Arizona, but a kid brought up by a dad running Rosarita’s refried bean factory. …My idea of Mexican food, or what I saw of Mexican food, was dished-up things with the burnt cheese on top. Chimichangas were never what I wanted to do as a living.”
His experience at an immersive culinary school in Mexico, and his relationship with a local person, ignited a passion for the flavors of Central Mexico. His travels took him to Guanajuato, Querétaro, Michoacán, Jalisco, and Aguascalientes, but his favorite flavors come from the Yucatán, Veracruz, Mexico City, and Oaxaca. “They’re all so different, and I try to take inspiration from everything.”
Tamales are no exception. From those wrapped in banana leaves in Oaxaca to the small, thin Norteño version found in Sinaloa, Smedstad has enjoyed them all. “Corn-husk-wrapped ones that are more on the plump side are my favorites because I can usually get all of the fillings I want in there,” he says. “I take it as a canvas now.”

The menu at Elote Cafe includes a traditional tamal made from fresh corn, peppers, and cheese. In the summer, a variation common to Michoacán, called Uchepo, is served. “It’s fresh corn masa with fresh corn inside wrapped in a fresh corn husk. It doesn’t have much masa, but it’s delicious and the flavor is completely different. It almost tastes herbal,” he says.
Having begun his culinary career while stationed with the Coast Guard on an island in Japan, Smedstad learned early on the connection between cuisine and culture. “Learning to make stew in the middle of a market or grinding seeds for mole on a metate in the backyard in Oaxaca, that’s going to influence you,” he says.
It’s more than the creativity and flavors that keep him inspired after all these years. “The main reason I don’t burn out is the people. There are so many genuinely wonderful people I work with, and we have some of the same customers in here every single week. We’ve seen families grow and people pass away. It’s amazing. That’s the beauty of being in a people business, because really that’s what this is.”
THE SECRET TO GREAT TAMALES
While each maker traveled a different path, both approach this traditional dish with an appreciation for lard. “If you’re making a tamale, you have to be generous with the ingredients. Be generous with the lard. If you think it’s a lot, it’s not a lot when it comes to the tamale,” Jesus says.
“We do a lot of pork belly at the restaurant, so I use homemade stuff as much as possible,” Smedstad says. “Using store-bought is fine, but if you can mix in some bacon grease, it will kind of kick up the flavor a bit. I use a LOT of lard in mine.”



