Almost Unfound Flavors

It was raining off and on in Portland.  Myself and a few IACP members took a stroll down to the Saturday morning market.  It's big.  If you want to visit one of the twenty something markets in Portland, this is the one to visit.  Fresh local produce, flowers, and vendors cover several city blocks.  Before we left, our only instructions were to taste a tamale, if there were any left.

We meandered through the beautiful produce seeking out our breakfast / lunch.  My good friend Jamie Tiampo and I made our way to the tamale line.  I noticed the vendor counting heads and I began to get worried.  There were at least ten people in front of us.  Then I heard the words that I was fearing.  "Sorry folks, there are only 10 left."  Our tamale quest rested on the choices of the patrons in front of us.  The line dwindled down till we were standing in front of our tamales maker.  He smiles and handed us the last tamale they sold that day.  Elated, Jamie and I quickly decided it was only fair to split it.

Now I've had plenty of tamales in my lifetime.  This was no ordinary tamale.  The corn masa had a soft almost velvety feel in my mouth.  The pork was tender and seasoned to perfection.  Topping it off was fresh salsa and sour cream.  This was the best tamale I ever ate.

 Hibiscus Arnold Palmer and an empty plate.