My sister's heavenly tamales
My sister makes gorgeous, I'm assuming ridiculously delicious tamales all the time and sends me pictures of them. I love tamales and know how to make them but it takes time, good pork and patience. And skill. Plus after all the work of putting the ingredients together and seasoning just right, you must then spend time assembling them. This is when I get sloppy and yet sis takes the time to tie sweet little corn husk ribbons on hers. But out of the grey skies today the world stopped spinning on it's normal boring axis, and shat out a tamale happenstance just for me. A flat tire caused me to take the subway instead of my bike to work. Reaching my stop, even though the humidity was fierce, I could walk the rest of the way rather than bussing it in comfortable air-conditioning and it would save time. I knew I wanted to get a good picture of my newfound bestie restaurant so I walked by and saw this handwritten sign surely from God saying:
I ran in and ordered, my feet barely touched the ground the rest of the way I was so happy.
They were not as pretty as Rach's but they tasted divine as does everything I've tried from this delightful place.
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