Chicago corn roll tamales: not awesome, perhaps, but uniquely ours

Served straight from metal steamers at Italian beef and hot dog stands across the city, corn roll tamales were invented in Chicago. Though perhaps not all that awesome, the corn roll tamale is a Chicago original, and we have found ways to love it.

Unlike traditional tamales, usually made with masa (cornmeal dough), stuffed with vegetables, meat or cheese, and then rolled in a natural wrapper, like a corn husk or a banana leaf, before warming, frequently by steam, Chicago’s corn roll tamales are an industrial product unlike anything you’ll find in Mexico. Chicago’s original tamales are manufactured on equipment that extrudes cylindrical shafts of yellow cornmeal with magenta-colored cores of lightly seasoned meat and cornmeal. Two big brands of Chicago corn roll tamales are Tom Tom and Supreme.

Tamales were brought to the United States in the late 1800s or early 1900s by Mexican workers who may have pocketed a few before heading off to work in the fields, according to the Southern Foodways Alliance, part of the University of Mississippi’s Center for the Study of Southern Culture.

In those fields, specifically in the Mississippi Delta, Mexican workers likely encountered Black workers with whom they shared the tamales.

Tamales were immortalized by Delta bluesman Robert Johnson, he of the Faustian bargain at the crossroads, in “They’re Red Hot”:

Hot tamales and they’re red hot, yes, she got ’em for sale. I got a girl, say she long and tall. She sleeps in the kitchen with her feets in the hall. Hot tamales and they’re red hot, yes, she got ’em for sale.

During the Great Migration, Black Americans brought along their tamales. The first documented sale of tamales in Chicago was at the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition, a hotbed of culinary invention that also introduced such landmark innovations as Cracker Jack, Juicy Fruit gum and brownies.

The spread of corn roll tamales in Chicago, however, may have less to do with Mexican and Black American food traditions and more to do with Greeks and Armenians. The Petros family bought the Tom Tom Tamale & Bakery in the 1930s, and the Paklaian family bought Supreme Frozen Products in the 1950s.

As a kid, I’d always opt for “bunch” tamales, a variant of corn roll tamales still available at places like Elmwood Park’s legendary Johnnie’s Beef. Bunch-style tamales are rectangular, and divided with origami-like precision into four tender fingers; golden, luscious and delectably moist.

It can be challenging to render delicious your standard Chicago corn roll tamales. This carb-heavy street food seems designed to fill up whatever belly real estate remains unoccupied after one puts away an Italian beef sandwich or a loaded Chicago-style hot dog. Chicago corn roll tamales are usually one of the least expensive items on a menu, though it’s not exactly a value: at Gene & Jude’s in River Grove, tamales are $2.09 each, and the hot dog with fries is only 99 cents more (and much tastier).

Corn roll tamales are shown to their best advantage in another Chicago food, the “tamale boat,” also called “chili cheese tamales,” in which tamales are submerged in chili to become a kind of lush, spongy cornmeal dumpling that absorbs flavors beautifully. This version of corn roll tamales is usually served with sport peppers, chopped onions and cheese, which add even more flavor.

I enjoyed tamales floating in chili one autumn afternoon at Parky’s Hot Dogs in Forest Park; it was so good that I returned for more the next day. On the second visit, just as I sat down to dig into some tamale boats/chili cheese tamales, an older guy picking up his lunch tripped over the rubber carpeting and fell into the plate glass window, shattering it. I ran over to help; there was lots of glass and a little blood, but fortunately paramedics arrived almost immediately. Then I sat back down to finish my chili-soaked tamales, appetite undiminished. They were that good.

Corn roll tamales are also used in other Chicago original foods, like the Mother-in-Law (a tamale in a hot dog bun, ladled with chili, dressed with standard Chicago hot dog condiments), as served at Fat Johnnie’s on the South Side. Fat Johnnie’s was one of Anthony Bourdain’s stops on an early episode of “No Reservations.” Bourdain judged the Mother-in-Law to be “disturbing in design, but strangely compelling.” I agree.

Few deem Chicago corn roll tamales to be a culinary masterpiece on the level of an Italian beef or a Chicago hot dog. Still, it’s Chicago and ours, and if you’re interested in humble foods born in this city, you should try one. I recommend you have your Chicago corn roll tamales in a bowl, with chili, sport peppers, onion and cheese.

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