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The survival of the arms & legs
By Lila Shaw Lash
| PHOTO CAPTION Corn tortillas, made from fresh masa, from Rick Bayless’s Mexican Kitchen.
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If chiles are the soul, then tortillas must be the arms and legs of Mexican cuisine. They are ubiquitous, ever-present, for sale on every corner, something that goes with everything. The north of Mexico (and most certainly the other side of the border) will serve more of the flour variety, but down in the interior and further south—it’s mostly corn.
Looking back, tortillas were already wildly popular and a mainstay of the indigenous diet when the Spaniards arrived in Mexico in the early 1520’s. Corns and beans, not coincidentally, are complimentary amino acids and enable complete protein synthesis when eaten together—something that supported the prolific expansion of the Aztec and Mayan cultures. The tortilla then gradually moved north, to an area short on corn but long on wheat—hence, the rise of the beloved flour tortilla.
Corn tortillas rose out of an indigenous cuisine, one that required ease of eating, quick preparation and nourishment after long days spent working in the fields—so why do they disintegrate in our hands? The tortillas that we mostly eat, unfortunately, are not the same tortillas that the Aztecs and Mayas so thoroughly enjoyed. I first caught wind of this hot controversy when I was cooking in the kitchens of several well-respected Mexican chefs. The revered, soulful process of turning corn into masa has been mostly replaced by the ease of masa harina, or referred to by brand name, Maseca.
The process of creating fresh masa from corn is age-old and fairly simple. The dried corn must be washed, brought to a boil with cal (also called lime) and left to soak overnight, then washed again, to remove residual cal—this creates the nixtamal, or corn treated with lime. Nixtamal is a Spanish interpretation of the Nahuatl words for ashes (nextli) and unformed corn dough (tamalli). The nixtamal is then ground to a workable dough either with more effort on a metate or with less effort in a corn mill. Add a little water to make it pliable, and you have fresh masa.
As wonderful and delicious as fresh masa is, it also has a very short shelf life. Rick Bayless wrote in Mexican Kitchen: “Fresh masa is hands-down the best, but it’s close to impossible to make at home, it’s an effort to find in most communities and it’s easily perishable.” This need for a more durable product paved the way for the rise of masa harina, a dried version of the nixtamal-based fresh masa product that can be reconstituted with a little water.
The unfortunate outcome is evident at most taquerias in Mexico—double-wrapped tacos and grease-covered hands. Tortillas made from masa harina quite literally fall apart and turn to mush when matched with wet, juicy taco fillings. The great chef Diana Kennedy calls it the “portending death of the tortilla,” as less and less traditional Mexican chefs and restaurants insist on making tortillas from fresh, nixtamal-based masa. Why the shift and the shortcuts?
Chefs such as Diana Kennedy rally and agitate against Maseca-based tortillas, insisting that the bedrock of all Mexican cuisine is being threatened, but plenty of chefs would just as soon use the easiest, quickest substitute. Consider this—if you are living in Mexico, where you have the chance to eat fresh masa tortillas daily, why not rattle the cage a bit? The tortillas from the tortillerias are passable, but the real deal, fresh from a comal and slathered in salsa, will make you a believer. If the ritual of fresh masa survives, then maybe we are doing our part to save the arms and legs.
Lila Shaw Lash is the chef with The Dinner Goddess and a regular columnist for Atención. She can be contacted at
lila@dinnergoddess.com.
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