Humitas: A Motive of Encounter, Nurturing, and the Celebration of Family Traditions

The awaited smell of fresh basil and milky corn permeates the air, accompanied by the joyous laughter of my grandmother Lucy and her sisters listening to traditional Chilean music. The first sun rays creep through the window as we excitedly prepare for the day ahead to make one of our favorite dishes: humitas. Every summer since I can remember, my family has dedicated a whole weekend to making this distinct meal as an instance of gathering, sharing, and enjoying the heavenly flavors of corn, tomato, and basil blending in our mouths. Humitas are made by grounding and cooking fresh corn and basil, wrapped in fresh corn husks, and steamed. They represent a tradition of Chilean cuisine and embodied knowledge; it has profoundly influenced shared traditions over generations and celebrates the loved ones who are no longer with us. I aspire and feel responsible for keeping these traditions alive to honor my cultural roots and ancestors. 

Delicious-looking humitas

My grandmother, Lucy, always takes the leadership role whenever we make humitas. She holds the most knowledge for preparing the perfect recipe as she grew up making this preparation from an early age but under very different circumstances. The making of humitas was a moment of reunion and laughter and served the purpose of survival to feed her nine other siblings. Most of what she learned was passed down from my great-grandmother - Gabriela. However, humitas have a more extended history in Latin America. They are popular in Ecuador, Argentina, and Mexico (the well-known ‘tamales’) but follow slightly different recipes. In Chile, humitas are primarily made with Humero corn - a cross of native Chilean corn and a commercial variety introduced in the early XX century. Among the indigenous foods that have enriched our traditional cuisine, humitas take the lead for their unique taste and complex history.

My great-grandmother - Gabriela

7:30 a.m. The first step of the process requires going to my city’s local market - in Chillan. The market conveys vibrant colors, smells, and sounds, embracing you as you navigate the space. Everyone in the making gathers to select the best pieces. My grandmother is usually the one choosing the corn - given her more extensive experience evaluating the corn’s quality of grain and husks. Every step of the process provides a unique opportunity to be fully immersed and attuned with the ingredients and the making - from getting the corn at the market and foraging fresh basil from our backyard’s orchard to finalizing the blend. 

We carry three heavy sacks of corn on a wheelbarrow and get to work! While the corn’s silk and husks are being peeled and cut, my grandmother chops the onion into small squares and proceeds to sautee them in oil with salt and chili to provide greater consistency and a more intense flavor. Given the large amount of corn purchased, this stage usually takes a couple of hours. Humitas symbolize a tradition that requires time and patience to obtain the desired taste, which implies challenging the fast-paced day-to-day life. These gatherings have profoundly shaped and increased my appreciation for cultural traditions.

Then comes the time to select the best leaves and separate them by size and quality. Every part of the corn is utilized; nothing is wasted. We remove all the grain from the cob and blend it with the aromatic basil from our orchard. The mixture is all grounded in a manual mill, and we take turns as the job requires demanding physical labor. I remember being 8 years old, I would try to help with this task, yet after a few minutes, my arms would become exhausted, and I would have to delegate the task to my older cousins. It was a challenging endeavor yet enormously rewarding in the end. 

Once the corn is all ground, we mix the paste with the sauteed onions and basil. The work is done by enjoying the good old tunes and sharing treasured anecdotes. My dad always finds it humorous how every family member has a slightly different recipe, yet my grandmother, Lucy, always has the last word. We then place the blend inside the corn’s husks by placing one corn leaf over the other, folding the sides, and tying a knot around them to seal the deal as a bow tie. My grandmother’s humitas would always be the most beautiful, whereas mine were always flat and messy. Still, she consistently demonstrated profound love and encouragement for my humble efforts. My grandmother has been and continues to be one of my role models. She is a motherly figure who has influenced me the most growing up with her inspiring resilience, kindness, and tenderness with everyone around her. We would finally place all the humitas in a large pot of boiling water for about 30 minutes.

My great-grandmother - Gabriela

After long hours of hard work and diligent preparation, we would only have to wait for the humitas to be ready. Still, the waiting time was one of my most cherished memories as we would enjoy fresh watermelon, homemade bread, and drink mate while chatting and reviving some old memories. Once the humitas were finally done, we would combine the mix with some fresh tomatoes, and some would add bits of chili. The process would also involve ensuring everyone would get plenty to bring back to their homes and saving some in the freezer for the winter season. 

Humitas have always been close to my heart, especially now by living far away from home. There is so much tradition, nurturing, and embodied knowledge within its process and the thought-provoking conversations surrounding this family event. I aspire to continue celebrating and embracing these powerful legacies for the years to come - to honor my grandmother’s teachings and memories together. Humitas are always the meal I crave the most whenever I return to Chile and visit my loved ones. Humitas trespasses boundaries and permeates its unique flavors and smells across different Latin American families by bringing instances of sharing, nurturing, and inspiring collaboration.