She killed my dad, made bail, and moved right back into his house like it was hers. I turned 33 years old eleven days later with nothing but grief, a van full of fireworks, and my brother Jeff. For thirty minutes, we got to flip the script — until the deputies came knocking.
After making tamales yesterday, I sat down to write the instructions like I said I would. But the husks and seasonings made me stop and think. What if I just made a kit? If you’d be interested, let me know.
Frozen tamales aren’t bad. But after making (and selling) a million of them, I finally said out loud what I’d been thinking for years: fresh ones are 10 times better.
Every Fall, the tamale texts start rolling in. I used to make thousands. Now? Not a chance. But I might just show you how we did it — masa, sauces, meat prep and all.
What started as a quick breakfast stop turned into a surprisingly great burrito, a purple soda experiment, and a reminder that friendly folks and real food still exist — right on River Drive in Davenport.