For millennia, the arid landscapes of what is now Arizona have nurtured a sophisticated culinary tradition centered around three essential crops: corn, beans, and squash. This "three sisters" agricultural system, predating European contact by centuries, represents not only a sustainable food source but also a profound cultural connection to the land. Long before the arrival of the Pilgrims on the shores of Plymouth, indigenous tribes had already perfected the art of cultivating these crops, building a cuisine as diverse and resilient as the desert itself. At the heart of this trinity lies corn, revered as the ultimate source of life and the cornerstone of their agricultural practices.
The Colors of Antiquity: Corn’s Rich Heritage
The ancient varieties of corn cultivated by these early farmers were a far cry from the uniform yellow kernels found in modern supermarkets. Instead, the fields boasted a vibrant palette of colors: deep reds, sunny yellows, pure whites, and blues so dark and intense they mirrored the starlit desert sky above. These heirloom corns, each with its own unique flavor and texture, provided sustenance and inspiration for a rich culinary tapestry.
The Anasazi, renowned for their ingenuity in dry farming techniques, and the tribes in southern Arizona, who developed intricate irrigation systems, both achieved impressive harvests. These bountiful yields allowed for the evolution of a sophisticated and diverse cuisine, where corn, beans, and squash were transformed into an array of dishes that celebrated the flavors of the land.
Kneel Down Bread: A Navajo Tradition
One such culinary masterpiece is Kneel Down Bread, a Navajo adaptation of the Spanish green corn tamale. The name itself speaks to the labor and dedication involved in its preparation, as it refers to the kneeling position assumed while grinding corn on a metate, a traditional grinding stone. This dish is deeply rooted in the harvest season, utilizing corn freshly picked from the fields.
While the tender, sweet corn readily available in grocery stores can be used, the preferred choice is the chewier, more substantial varietals, in white or yellow, that Arizona tribes have cultivated for generations. These heirloom corns offer a distinct flavor and texture that elevates the dish to its authentic form.
The preparation of Kneel Down Bread is a labor of love, beginning with the careful removal of the corn husks, preserving the largest pieces for wrapping the tamales. The kernels are then sliced from the cob, with the tip of the knife used to extract the creamy corn milk, a vital ingredient that adds richness and depth to the flavor.
Traditionally, the kernels are ground into a thick pudding using a mano and metate. However, a blender can be used as a modern alternative. The resulting pudding can be baked directly in the corn husks, or enhanced with the addition of chopped green chiles, diced tomatoes, or red peppers, adding a touch of spice and complexity to the flavor profile.
Alice Begay, from Tsaile, Arizona, recalls her mother’s traditional method of baking Kneel Down Bread: "My mother always baked a big corn cake and never fooled with those small tamales the Mexicans make. She would cover a bed of hot coals with corn husks and then spread the corn over that. Then she layered on more husks, more coals, and covered the whole thing over with earth." This ancient technique, passed down through generations, imparts a unique smoky flavor to the corn cake.
While this traditional method is still practiced today, particularly after butchering when a large fire is burning down, Begay also describes a more contemporary adaptation: "But more often I’ll just make it in the oven in the house. I layer the husks on some tin foil and then put the corn in and more husks on top and make a packet that way." This adaptation allows for the preservation of tradition while adapting to modern conveniences.
Hopi Cuisine: Elevating Corn to High Art
The Hopi people, renowned for their ability to cultivate abundant harvests of corn without the aid of irrigation, have elevated the cuisine surrounding this staple crop to an art form. Their deep understanding of the land and its resources has resulted in a diverse array of dishes that celebrate the flavors and textures of corn in all its forms.
Among the many celebrated breads, dumplings, stews, and tamales, one particularly noteworthy dish is paatupsuki, a hearty soup of beans and corn. This combination is not only a source of great comfort food but also provides a complete protein, containing a full complement of amino acids similar to that found in meat. The symbiotic relationship between beans and corn, both in agriculture and nutrition, is a testament to the ingenuity of indigenous food systems.
The preparation of paatupsuki begins with dry pinto beans, carefully picked over in a Hopi tutsaya, a sifter basket made from split yucca. This intricate basket allows the tiny rocks that often find their way into dry beans to fall through, ensuring a clean and enjoyable eating experience. The beans are then cooked on the stovetop for two to three hours, until they are soft and the water in the pot has transformed into a creamy gravy.
Making hominy, a crucial ingredient in paatupsuki, requires considerably more finesse. While canned hominy is readily available, the Hopi people understand that making it from scratch is the only way to truly appreciate its unique flavor and texture.
Iola Tewa, of Second Mesa, describes the traditional method of making hominy: "In the old days we used ashes that we made from burning juniper greens. But I’m lazy to do all that, since you have to go out and get the greens, and then make a fire, and finally boil them in water and strain them."
Tewa explains that baking soda can be used as a substitute for juniper ash: "Baking soda works pretty much as well as long as you make sure to get it all rinsed off once the husks on the corn loosen. You don’t want any soda taste left on your hominy."
Tewa boils white corn in generous amounts of water for two to three hours, adding two tablespoons of baking soda for every two quarts of water and two cups of corn. Once the soda causes the corn to puff up and the hulls loosen, she pours off the water and rinses the hominy thoroughly before removing the loose hulls by hand.
Tewa humorously comments on the modern convenience of canned hominy: "It sounds like a lot of work, when so many of them just want to open a can these days. We tease and call them ‘microwave miwis’ [wives]."
Once the hominy is prepared, it is ready to be combined with the cooked beans to create paatupsuki. "So once you get your corn all done, you’re ready to make paatupsuki. Just mix the hominy and beans together. Then you call all your family to come and eat. Usually I’ll roast some green chili, too. It’s kwangwa – I guess even you poor people who don’t speak Hopi can figure out what that means!" Tewa’s playful humor reflects the strong sense of community and the joy of sharing a traditional meal.
Squash: The Humble Hero
While Hopi humor and corn may take center stage, squash, often considered the humblest member of the food trinity, still plays a vital role in the culinary landscape of Arizona.
Think of young squashes, picked green in early summer and diced with onion, garlic, and green chile, ready to be savored with thick, fresh tortillas. This simple yet flavorful dish celebrates the freshness of the harvest and the vibrant flavors of the desert.
Alternatively, consider the Pima and Papago women who carefully fill squash blossoms, picked early in the morning when they are fully open, with a mash of cooked corn. These delicate blossoms, stuffed with the sweetness of corn, are then sautéed until golden brown, creating a culinary masterpiece that speaks of a time when the indigenous people of Arizona had mastered the art of transforming simple ingredients into extraordinary flavors.
These are just two examples of the countless ways in which squash has been incorporated into the cuisine of Arizona. The indigenous people of this region are believed to have developed as many as 250 ways to prepare corn, while ensuring that squash and beans played accompanying roles worthy of their stature. The enduring trinity of corn, beans, and squash represents not only a sustainable food system but also a testament to the ingenuity, resilience, and deep cultural connection of the indigenous people of Arizona. Their culinary traditions, passed down through generations, continue to inspire and nourish, reminding us of the profound wisdom embedded in the land and its bounty.