Page:Face to Face With the Mexicans.djvu/79

 who had a bushel basket in reserve, even agreeing to pay her for the basket; but she only shook her head, and wagged the forefinger, saying, No, señora, no puedo"—("No, madame, I cannot "). A woman held in her hand a corn husk, which she waved continuously up and down. On examination, I found it was butter rolled up snugly, which she assured me was "fresca sin sal''"—"fresh, without salt". A new revelation, but in the course of time I learned to appreciate this primitive method, and that in this climate salt was a hindrance to its preservation for any length of time. At last I became convinced of the perfect and complete fitness of things, and of their self-vindication.

In making the tortilla, the corn is first soaked for several hours in a solution of lime-water, which removes the husk. Then a woman gets down upon her knees and beats it for hours on the metate. Small pieces of the dough are worked between the hands, tossed and patted and flattened out, until no thicker than a knife-blade, after which they are thrown upon the steaming hot comal, a flat, iron affair something like a griddle. They are never allowed to brown, and are without salt or seasoning of any kind; but after one becomes inducted into their merits, they prove not only palatable, but they make all other corn-bread tasteless in comparison, the slight flavor of the lime adding to the natural sweetness of the corn.

There were tamales rolled up in corn husks, steaming hot and sold in numbers to suit the hungry purchasers. I found that this remarkable specimen of food was made, like the tortillas, from macerated corn. Small portions of the dough were taken in hand and wrapped around meat which had been beaten to a jelly and highly seasoned with pepper and other condiments. The whole was then folded snugly in a corn husk and thrown into a vessel of boiling lard.

When I witnessed this operation, the woman whose enterprise it was, began singing in a cheery voice and making crosses before the fire, saying, "If I don't sing, the tamales will never be cooked."

In my market experiences nothing imparted a greater zest than watching the multitude of homeless poor taking their meals all around the border of the market. All the compounds they ate were complete