Mexican Outdoor Kitchen

I committed to writing about the outdoor kitchen in Reynosa, Tamaulipas; about the first time I tried to learn to make masa tortillas by hand from some sweet abuelitas. Today’s the day.

The challenge for me, and the reason why I have been putting off this blog entry, is because I have a tricky memory—I mean that it plays tricks on me and messes with my realities…and consequently my self-confidence. Do I really know that things happened the way they happened? Can I trust my mind?

I need to be truthful and so I’ll say that when I think back on my two weeks in Hidalgo/Reynosa, weird peripheral details stick in my mind like a crystal, but others are muddy, closer to emotional impressions than to the concrete buildings and the people I encountered. I don’t want to lie and make up what may never have actually happened just to fill in holes for the purpose of a blog entry. (There are a couple of people who know me really well who can attest to my need to make sure that my recounting of events is accurate—that I don’t lie to people. It’s one of the most important values of who I am and what God has brought me through over the years).

So I think what I will do today is talk about outdoor kitchens in general, and also a specific outdoor kitchen I recently visited. Then I will try to recall what I for sure remember about my Abuelita experience, which may be spotty to you, and for that, my apologies.

If you search Google for “outdoor kitchens”, or “Mexican outdoor kitchens” you will find image after image of today’s trend of recreating the outdoor cooking/grilling experience in Suburbia. I would post one here, but then I would have to get permissions and do citations…I don’t think that’s necessary because I’m certain you know what I’m talking about. HGTV and DIY networks will make sure that we all know exactly what we’re missing…

…You open the sliding glass door onto your backyard deck or patio. You’re met with a lovely cut stone expanse that cradles a massive gas-operated Weber grill, travertine tiled flooring and genuine granite toppers. There is even a sink and dishwasher set-up, oh, and of course a wine fridge. The 8 person table is of an exotic teakwood surrounded by cushioned chairs, the material of which is printed in an affected indigenous pattern. Retro incandescent string lights are hung along the rim of the sailcloth shade that covers the patio. It’s all very…well, cool—expensive conspicuous consumption, but cool and I wish I had one…(of course don’t we all?).

What I can show you are some photos of my visit to McKee Botanical Garden in Vero Beach, Florida. The history of this place, in a nutshell (a really small nutshell), is that it was a flora and fauna adventure park (est 1929) before Walt Disney put it out of business in 1976. Land was sold off from the original 80 acres, and condos were built. Someone, however, had the presence of mind to fight for the last 18 remaining acres of this pristine paradise. Today it’s a jewel, a treasure in the midst of the ash heap, so to speak.  What is wonderful about the 18 acre garden is what you find in the center after coursing the outskirts via the manicured paths that wind around orchid plantings, exotic trees, artistic ponds, and bamboo forests. 

These pathways converge on an opening in the jungle, and built there is an exquisite lodge called the Hall of Giants. Inside is a table over 30 feet long carved out of the solid trunk of a mahogany tree. Stepping into this hall as a visitor is nothing short of a holy experience. It demands reverence. Back in its heyday, however, the hall was a place of celebrations, laughter, and amazing food.

Food! As you pass through the Hall of Giants, through to the back side, you finally come to what they call the Spanish Kitchen. It is truly lovely. Built for function foremost and then for eccentric beauty, it is rustic, timeless, gorgeous. My understanding is that this space of the Hall and the Kitchen can be rented out for weddings, but don’t take my word for it. My understanding is also that this was part of the private property of Waldo Sexton, the Garden’s founder; and that in the hot summers, the Spanish Kitchen was running at full speed for his family, friends, and employees.  The photos that I’m posting here I took myself. Any resemblance to anyone else’s photos is coincidental. Don’t try to sue me.

    

Just imagine this place, late 1930’s/early 40’s, supplied with exotic fruits, spices, vegetables, chiles hanging to dry, meats roasting on grills and caldos simmering in pots! If the walls could talk! And can you imagine the aroma of a 1939 Sunday afternoon gathering here? McKee’s Spanish outdoor kitchen is the perfect example of what an outdoor kitchen is supposed to be: messy, rugged, very Spanish, unforgettable.

So how did my Reynosa Mexican kitchen compare to McKee’s?  My recollection is that it was set on the outside back wall of the church where our work was stationed. The church building, I think, was of a white stucco. I do not remember the name of it, but I do remember the pastor and his wife, the children, and the abuelitas. Their faces to me now are blurry, but their acceptance, kindness, and senses of humor have stayed clearly behind in my memory.

I actually tried to find the church on Google Maps. No luck, but here is a screen shot of what I came up with:

Apparently Church’s Chicken is a popular chain in Tamaulipas. There are FOUR of them in this city of 600K people, and two more across the border in Hidalgo, TX. As far as the church where the outdoor kitchen was, I just can’t be sure. Online images show that there are some crazy, architecturally cool churches in Reynosa. Ours was a smaller, less impressive building, and since we are talking over 35 years ago, it is quite probable that the congregation has moved to another larger location.

The outdoor kitchen was partially makeshift and partially permanent. I remember that there was a sink with running water and electrical outlets.  The skillets for cooking the tortillas and the burners for simmering the beans were set up on Formica counter-tops set roughly onto a saw horse type construction. This I am not sure about entirely—again, my memory won’t reproduce the details.

It was July. The climate was dry, but the cooking moisture made for sweaty food preparation. There were a couple of stations and we were nestled under an open canvas tent supported by wooden poles and cotton string line. Were there flies buzzing around? Can’t remember. Was it sunny? Probably, but again, I don’t have a picture in my mind for it. I do recall that the abuelitas were dressed in skirts and sleeveless blouses. We all wore sandals, I remember that.  

My memory wants to picture these women as shorter than I am, but I don’t know if that’s possible, being that, well, I’m not tall at all. In my mind’s eye I am looking down onto the griddles and cutting surfaces, looking down at the hands that shaped and flatted the masa dough into perfectly circular tortillas…looking down as if from the height of the tent at what we were all doing in that compact area—even looking down at myself. Why does my brain do this? It can’t be how it actually was.

The Reynosa Mexican kitchen was open, yet intimate. There were no cut stone structures, no granite, no propane tanks hidden under a shiny Weber grill.  We cut and diced, we boiled, we fried, we waited, we joked. I believe we sang hymns in Spanish while we worked. And the garlicy, oniony, savory smells of that moment in time have stayed with me—I believe the memory of those aromas, that comes back to me every time I enjoy Mexican cooking, is what has helped me remember all the other more important ideas of what happened those two weeks in July of 1981: the love from strangers that was shared with this young silly American girl, the generosity that springs from people who own so little, yet who understand the inestimable value of sharing that little, and how a language barrier is the smallest of the barriers that separate people of different cultures.

In case you're interested, McKee's website. Maybe you'll want to do a wedding there? https://www.mckeegarden.org/