What’s the other thing?”
“You have to ski this winter. Do whatever it is that your dad wants you to do with it.”
An exasperated gasp. “Look at my thighs!” she said, and slapped one with the back of her hands. “I bulk up so fast from skiing! It’s just not cool. I look like a freak.”
“Portia! Athletic is not the same as fat.”
“I get that. You just haven’t seen my thighs when I’m training. It’s gross.”
“What if you take your measurements and then if you add more than what—two inches?—you’ll quit. How’s that?”
For a long minute, Portia stood still as a stone, her exquisite face bathed in the strong Aspen sunlight, her blonde hair tumbling down her shoulders. Youth, health, beauty, wealth—all right there. “Okay,” she said at last. “I’ll do it. But I want the tape measure thing. You can be my witness. Maybe you guys will see this is not my imagination.”
Elena grinned. She wanted to give the girl a hug, but settled for sticking out her hand. “I can’t wait to see you on the slopes.”
With a wry grin, Portia shook her hand. “It’s a deal.”
TRADITIONAL PORK AND RED CHILE TAMALES
Making tamales is traditionally a family activity. It’s not impossible for one person to make them, but there’s pleasure in the women coming together, grandmothers and aunties and sisters and little girls filling someone’s kitchen to cook in a line. The scent of the meat stewing in its spices and lard, the scent of hairspray and soap from the women’s hair and skin, the sound of laughter and clucking and the radio playing something in the background. Oldies and dance music and folk songs and Elvis. Green and white linoleum floor. This is my grandmother’s recipe. We ate them at Christmas, and sometimes on somebody’s birthday.
Pork shoulder, about 2–3 lbs, with plenty of fat
Olive oil or lard
2 onions, chopped roughly
3–4 cloves garlic
6–7 New Mexico red chile pods, dried, seeds and stems removed
1 cup fresh chicken broth
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp salt
Corn husks
1 3/4 cups masa harina mixed with 1 cup plus 2 T hot water, cooled to room temperature
2/3 cup fresh pork lard 1 tsp chile powder (use Chimayo chiles if you can find them)
2/3 cup fresh chicken broth
PREPARATION OF INGREDIENTS
In a heavy pot, brown the pork roast on all sides in the olive oil or lard, then add the onions and garlic and let them brown a little. Break up the chile pods and put them in a blender with 1 cup of chicken broth and whir it all together. Cook in low oven, 325 degrees, until meat is tender and shreds easily. Taste to correct seasoning. Shred the meat in the sauce and set aside.
While the meat is cooking, put the corn husks in a bowl and pour boiling water over them to cover. Put a heavy plate on top of them, and let stand for at least 1 hour.
Whip 2/3 cup of lard into 1/2 cup of the chicken broth until blended, then add masa, chile powder, and remaining chicken broth. Whip until fluffy, then cover and put in the fridge until the roast is cooked.
ASSEMBLY
On a counter or table with plenty of space, line up the bowls of husks, masa, and meat. You’ll need a stack of paper towels or dishcloths, and a steamer with a removable metal tray and a lid.
Tear two or three soaked husks into thin strips and set to one side. Spread a towel on the counter and take one husk out of the water. Blot it on both sides and put it down with the pointed end away from you. Scoop out about a solid tablespoon of masa and plop it down in the middle of the husk, then spread it evenly in a rectangle, leaving a quarter inch of space all around. Ladle out a scant tablespoon of the shredded meat and lay it neatly in a line down the middle of the dough, making sure it reaches all the way to the end of masa on both ends.
Taking both sides of the husk as if you’re going to fold it, gently roll the dough around the meat and wrap the husk firmly around itself. Fold the pointed end toward the center and use a strip of torn husk to tie it in place. Leave the other end open, but tie another strip around the top of the tamale to hold the top together.
Repeat until all batter and meat are gone.
Line the steamer with husks and put the tamales