Adobo para lomos - Marinade for loins (pg 4)

The grocery store had an incredible sale on pork loins the other day, so I partook with the idea of finding a Pinedo recipe for it.  And I did.  On page 4 is a "Marinade for loins" that looked intriguing.  I had some questions with the instructions, so I experimented a little bit which you will see in the notes.

Here it is, "Adobo para lomos":

My Translation

My Redaction

3.4 pound boneless pork loin

1 cup apple cider vinegar

1 cup water

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon pepper

1 tablespoon cumin seed

1 tablespoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground cloves

2 fresh bay leaves

8-inch long piece of fresh rosemary

1 tablespoon loosely packed fresh oregano leaves

<The usual picture with all the ingredients disappeared!>

Day 1

Slice the loin into 1/2 to 3/4 inch thick pieces

Strip the leaves off the rosemary stem; discard the stem.  Mix marinade in plastic tub with a lid.  Whisk the ingredients well together.

Immerse the meat in the tub.

Refrigerate.

Shake the container once in the evening.

Day 2

Shake the container 2 (or more) times during the day.

Day 3

Shake the container in the morning.

Heat up a little olive oil in a Dutch oven or fry pan, then reduce the heat to low (2 of 10 or so).

Fry the meat slowly over that low heat until it looks done about 2/3 of the way up the sides.  Flip the meat and continue to cook slowly.

Serve hot.

A lot of meat.

Herbs and spices of the marinade

Altogether now!

My Notes

I wasn't sure if I should cut the meat or not, but since she indicated "frying," I decided to cut the loin into individual servings.  It is possible she meant to fry the entire loin, keeping in mind that "frying" doesn't always mean to fast cook it in hot oil.

I had to guess on the spice quantities, and I know marinades are supposed to be strong in flavor.  I kept in mind that cloves "tend to be full of themselves," so I kept their quantity low in relation to the rest of the ingredients.  I had fresh bay leaves because of a cute little dwarf bay bush called "Little Ragu" that is now growing in my yard.  (It helps to find a foodie who works at the local nursery!)

When removing the meat from the marinade to cook, I pulled all the leaves off before putting the meat in the pan.  I didn't worry about the spices.  

For the first batch, I considered her directions to "add broth," which seemed to be another ingredient and not the liquid from the marinade.  I tried that, adding a little beef broth to the pan, just enough to bring the liquid level up to about 1/4 inch.  Then I realized that it would take a long, long time to get the food "almost dry."  I risked overcooking the meat.

So for the second batch I used just olive oil to slowly cook the meat.  When it appeared done, I noticed the pan was almost dry but, of course, the oil did not evaporate.  Perhaps I could have used less oil.

I had 16 slices of meat, so I cooked two batches of four in the Dutch oven and four in a skillet.  I didn't see any cooking time or result differences between the two pans.

I noticed that the meat released a lot of liquid into the pan while cooking, making the addition of broth unnecessary.

Done marinating

The Verdict

We weren't very hungry, so we split a piece of meat.  It was ... interesting.

We both noticed the fruity flavor right away.  I attribute that to the apple cider vinegar.  The spices were dominant, and I felt they were on the edge of being too strong.  It wasn't off-putting, but my guest taster asked, "What kind of meat is this?"

In other words, the spices and fruit flavors dominated each mouthful, and we couldn't really enjoy the taste of the pork.  He felt the meat was just a touch chewy; I thought it was fine.

My conclusion was that either I should not have cut the meat into slices or I should have marinated the slices for a shorter amount of time, perhaps just overnight.  I suspect that having the whole loin cooking in the Dutch oven for a long time (over low heat) would probably have allowed the food to be almost dry.  

There were no issues with the meat getting a chalky texture after three days in the marinade.  

So I will declare it a success, although I wasn't entirely thrilled with it.  

The leftovers were consumed in a variety of ways, and I think the strong flavor, while still there, was mellowed with time.  Sometimes I served the pork with a sauce. (Try making a passionfruit coulis and add some broth, or something similar with mulberry molasses.  Fruit with pork is always a winner with me.)  Sometimes I served it as it was but with butternut squash soup and toast.  Reheating the meat made it a little drier, but the sauce helped.  My guest taster would dunk the meat in the soup.  More success!

Costillas de puerco fresco con setas - Fresh pork ribs with mushrooms (pg 88)

I found some pork baby back ribs on sale, so I took advantage of the deal and tried a Pinedo recipe that had been on my radar for a while.  I love pork and especially ribs!

The recipe is on page 88, Costillas de puerco fresco con setas.  

My Translation

Fresh pork ribs with mushrooms.

            Prepare the ribs as to grill them; but these are fried in unsalted fat or olive oil. They are put to fry in a frying pan, turning them several times and seasoning them with salt and pepper on both sides.

            They are removed from the pan when they are well browned; immediately these are put to fry in the same juice that has remained in the pan: a few mushrooms cut into rounds, with onion, parsley and well-chopped basil, a glass of white wine and half of hot water.

            The ribs are placed in the same dish and covered with the sauce.

My Redaction

3 pounds pork baby back ribs, cut into pieces that fit the Dutch oven

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon pepper

less than 1 tablespoon olive oil

1/2 of a large onion

8 small portabella mushrooms, cleaned

1/8 cup finely minced fresh parsley

1/8 cup finely minced fresh basil

8 ounces white wine

4 ounces hot water

Preheat over medium low a Dutch oven that is big enough to fit the ribs.  Lightly sprinkle the ribs with the salt and pepper.  You may use more or less seasoning according to the ribs and your preferences.

Drizzle the oil in the pan and let heat a little.  Add the ribs to the pan and cook them slowly, turning them "several times" as needed to cook them through.  Don't rush this.

In the meantime, chop the onion into small pieces, but not finely chopped.  Remove the stems of the mushrooms and discard.  Slice the mushrooms into rounds if possible.  

When the ribs are cooked and browned, remove them from the Dutch oven and place on the serving dish.  To the juices and fat in the pan, add the onion, mushrooms, and herbs, and the water and the wine.  

Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to simmer until the onions are transparent and the liquid is reduced.  Spoon the sauce over the ribs just before serving.

Ribs sprinkled with salt and pepper; beginning to cook.

Nearly done.

About this much of everything.  Or as you want!

What was leftover in the pan.

Beginning to sauté. 

Done!

My Notes

To "prepare the ribs as to grill them," Pinedo suggested on page 89 to remove the fat.  A person I knew whose father was butcher also recommended that you tear the membrane encasing the ribs (or sometimes on just one side) away from the meat.  The ribs I had did not need either technique.

I cut the ribs into three big chunks.  Afterwards I thought that I should have cut them into serving-sized portions, which I now recommend.

The Verdict

The ribs browned beautifully, and I checked their internal temperature before declaring them done.

I thought, while simmering the sauce, that I had added too much liquid.  I could have simmered it longer to reduce it, but I didn't, so there was more liquid than what I felt was "right."  When I spooned it over the ribs, most of the liquid rolled off the meat and onto the platter, but the important flavors stayed on top.

Ready to serve.  Note the liquid on the platter.

The dish made a lovely presentation: the steaming ribs and the sauce with its bits over the top.  I served it with steamed green beans dressed with a little butter, liquamen, balsamic vinegar, salt, and pepper; and a soft dinner roll.  And wine.  Don't forget the wine!

Served.  Yum.

My guest taster and I enjoyed the meal very much.  The ribs were tasty, and the sauce added flavors and texture that we don't normally associate with eating ribs.  Those flavors of onion, mushroom, and herbs complemented the meat quite well!

My only negative feedback is that I wanted the flavors to be stronger.  It could be that adding so much liquid diluted the flavors, and if I had reduced it more, they would have been better.  Or I could have added more herbs to really bump it up.  Perhaps use 6 ounces of wine and 3 ounces of water?

I also wanted more mushrooms.  I was tempted to put in a lot more at the beginning, but she indicated just a few.  I held back.

It wouldn't hurt to have a lot more sauce to put on the ribs.  I would have enjoyed some of the bits with each bite of meat.  

But still, I declare it a success.  We enjoyed the reheated leftovers later, without the extra liquid.  They were fine.  I still wanted more flavors, though!

How to Judge Good Flour (pg x)

Today I am taking a different approach to my blog post.  It is the 15th of the month, so I am posting something from Pinedo's book, but instead of a recipe, I wanted to test her advice on how to know if the flour you are using is of good quality.

In her introduction, on page x, she wrote: 

Which I translated as:

            Flour, when it is good, is known by taking a handful of it in the hand and squeezing it tightly; if it compacts and unites in a mass, it is of the best quality and the mixture that is made of it will be soft, ductile, and elastic; while adulterated flour is much heavier than fine and laborious to knead. If it is tested as said above, it will not give the same result.

            Second--A small amount is taken and [with] the fingers are kneaded; if it is soft and flexible it is good, and if it is sticky and rough it is bad.

            Third--Put a little bit on the table and blow gently with your breath; if there are little piles on the table that have resisted the action of the breath, it is good, and if it is completely scattered, it is bad.

            Fourth--A thimbleful is taken in the palm of the hand and rubbed gently with the finger: if the flour flattens and is slippery, it is of inferior quality, and, on the contrary, if rubbing it feels rough in the hand as if it was fine sand, it is good.

I tried these tests and took pictures to show the results.  

Keep in mind that I expect my flour to be good.  We have the Pure Food and Drug Act of 1906 - and subsequent legislation - that requires food additives and adulterations to be reported, pushing businesses and manufacturers to sell us food we can rely on to be what the label says it is.  

This is so very different from what Pinedo, and the rest of the United States, experienced in 1898.  No one was held accountable for what they did to food, and adulteration with alternate ingredients and even poisonous additives was widespread.  Milk was "kept fresh" with embalming fluid; what was labeled as olive oil often contained no or little oil from olives; "strawberry" jam was made from apple pulp, sugar, red food coloring, grass seed, and strawberry flavoring; and more.  Manufacturers wanted to make money, so they cut costs wherever they could and didn't worry about the consequences.  

If your stomach can take it, take a look at Leon Landone's 1906 book Foods that are drugged.  (Click here for the link to it.)  Be astonished at all the food products, including baby food, that it lists.  Now when I see labels that use the word "pure," I have a better understanding of why that has been important.

So was my flour of good quality?  Keep in mind that proper labeling doesn't mean good quality, just that my flour wasn't mixed with chalk or Plaster of Paris.  It was worth the test.

Test #1

I took a handful of flour and squeezed it tightly.  

Before squeezing

After squeezing.

Uh oh.  My flour did not compact and unite into a mass.  It failed the first test.  

Test #2

I kneaded a little flour with my fingers.

She did not say to get it damp at all; I just used the flour from the bag.  It did not feel sticky and rough, but I was not sure it was "soft and flexible."

Test #3

I spread a little on the counter and gently blew on it.  

Before blowing

After blowing

If you look very carefully, you can see that some of the flour moved when I blew on it.  But very little.  I actually started blowing harder to get it to move, and I couldn't without making a big mess.  This was encouraging.

Test #4

I estimated a thimbleful into the palm of my hand, and I rubbed it with my finger.

Before rubbing

After rubbing

I think the rubbing flattened it, but it did not feel slippery at all.  It did feel like very fine sand.

The Verdict

While not every test gave me a clear result, I feel my flour was at least good quality and not adulterated.  I appreciated that she gave several tests so I could have options, otherwise the first test and maybe the second would have convinced me my flour was bad. 

What I used was a house brand flour, which may not have been as high quality as, say, a name brand.  Often house brands are made by the name brands but not labeled as such in order to reduce the price.  It would be informative to try these tests on other brands, especially the ones that advertise their high quality, and compare them.  

Success!  

Now I have to go clean all the flour off of my camera.  : )

Pudin de arróz - Rice Pudding (pg 216)

I’ve mentioned before that I have a sweet tooth, and it kicked in when I was choosing the Pinedo recipe for this post.  I’ve been eyeing her rice puddings recipes for a while.  Today I chose one that takes a long time to prepare because, well, I had the time!

On page 216 she lists two rice pudding recipes, and the first one intrigued me.  The rice is cooked in milk for three hours.

  My Translation

So, let’s get started. I chose to make a half quantity of her recipe.  At the beginning I wasn’t sure if she wanted the rice to be cooked first and then simmered for three hours, or if the rice was only simmered in the milk for three hours.  I chose the latter.

My Redaction

¼ pound white rice

1 quart whole milk

about ½ tablespoon butter (plus more to butter the dish)

½ cup raisins

½ cup sugar

4 egg yolks

2 egg whites

½ tablespoon orange blossom water

1 teaspoon cinnamon

Put rice in a sieve and rinse it well.  Add the rice to the milk in a large saucepan.  Cover the pan and bring the milk to just a bare simmer – bubbles were forming and it looked “foamy.”

Remove the cover, stir the rice well, reduce the heat to the lowest possible, and set the time for 1 ½ hours.  Stir occasionally. 

When the time is up, add the raisins, butter, and sugar.  Stir them in well and set the timer for 1 ½ hours.  Watch the rice carefully, stirring often, especially after the first hour when the mixture starts getting thick.

When the total of three hours of cooking is over, remove the rice mixture from the saucepan and into a big bowl.  Allow it time to cool, at least 30 minutes. 

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F (325 degrees if using a glass or ceramic pan).  Butter an 8 x 12 inch baking dish.

While the mixture is cooling, separate the eggs.  Beat the yolks well.  Beat the whites to stiff peaks.

Once the mixture is cool enough not to cook the eggs, mix in the yolks, cinnamon, and orange blossom water.  Stir them in well.  Then fold in egg whites.

Spread the mixture in the pan.  Bake for about 30 minutes or until the edges are lightly browned and the center is somewhat firm.

Serve warm.

My Notes

I chose to cook the rice slowly in the milk because I couldn’t see how to boil the rice to “done” without overheating the milk.  I believe that Pinedo wanted the milk to be cooked very slowly the entire time and never brought to a boil. 

After I brought the rice and milk to a simmer, I noticed the rice was sticking to the bottom of the pan.  So I stirred it with the intent to break the rice away from the bottom.  I was successful.

I first put the saucepan on a simmer mat over the lowest flame on my stove (1 of 10).  After the first 1 ½ hours, the rice was barely cooked and a “skin” was on the surface.  So I removed the simmer mat.  That cooked the rice a lot faster, which is why you need to watch it closely in the second 1 ½ hours so it doesn’t overcook.  Feel free to remove it from the heat earlier if the mixture is very thick and threatening to stick to the pan.

When the mixture went into the bowl to cool, it smelled good.  The white milk, rice, and sugar had all changed to a lovely golden color.  That long, slow cooking gave the sugars in the milk and sugar a chance to caramelize. 

I didn’t wait until the rice mixture to be completely cooled, just cool enough to “not cook the eggs.”  It was comfortably warm to the touch.

Finally looking like it is cooking!

Done.  Needs to cool.

With everything in it.

Ready for the oven.

Ready for my mouth!

The Verdict

I served it warm as dessert after dinner. 

Not too thick, not too thin.

The first thing that I noticed was how very delicate the rice pudding was.  Most rice puddings that I have tried are served cold and are creamy and somewhat heavy because they are thick.  I expected this baked rice pudding to be similar in texture to a bread pudding.  I think folding in the egg whites “in a snow state” made the pudding soft, fluffy, and delicate because the egg whites act as a leavening agent.  (Similarly, the second rice pudding recipe on that page uses “yeast powder,” which is baking powder, also a leavening.)

I also thought the pudding was surprisingly sweet.  Not overwhelmingly sweet, but I only put in ½ cup sugar, and it tasted sweeter than what I expected from that quantity.  Was it the caramelization?  Was it the raisins?  I don’t know, but I thought the sweetness level was just right.  The cinnamon amount was right, too, because I think if there had been more added, it would distract from the delicate texture. 

I did not think the orange blossom water was very noticeable, but my guest taster identified it immediately.  When I focused on my tastebuds, I could get a sense of it.  It was a subtle support flavor that was quite appropriate. 

It was also moist without being wet or cloying.  I appreciated that.

Overall, success!  It was tasty warm from the oven, cold the next day, but even better the next day warmed up slightly.

If I did it again, I would add more raisins.  I love raisins!

If you put it into a smaller baking dish, you would get a thicker pudding.  That might affect the baking time.  I liked the thickness.  I think it emphasized the delicate aspect of the pudding.

We who cook on a stove instead of a fire like Pinedo did and live our lives faster than I think she did don’t generally think of cooking something for hours on end.  I found it easy – once the milk and rice were cooking, I could do other things nearby and I just had to walk over to check on it occasionally.  I recommend trying this recipe.  It is different from a standard cold rice pudding, and I think you will enjoy it.

 

Guisado de carne de puerco - Pork meat stew (page 114)

I was perusing the Pinedo cookbook looking for inspiration - what recipe did I want to do today?  I had a fresh pork loin in the fridge, so I focused on a recipe that used it.  Now I think I have stated previously:  I love meat-and-fruit combinations, so this recipe caught my full attention.  Pork and pineapple!  And a lovely group of spices.

On page 114 is Guisado de carne de puerco, or Pork meat stew.  It looked simple to prepare (boy, did I need that!) and needs a lot of time to slow-cook everything.

My Translation

My Redaction

1 medium brown onion

1 1/2 teaspoons chopped garlic

3.4 pound boneless pork loin

3/4 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon dried oregano

1 teaspoon whole coriander (you will want more)

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

1 tablespoon dried parsley

1 tablespoon sugar

3 ounces white wine

1 ounce white wine vinegar

4 ounces chicken broth

1- 20 ounce can pineapple chunks in juice

2 tablespoons butter

And the butter.

Peel and chop the onion into medium dice.  Melt the butter in a Dutch oven.  Add the onion and garlic.  Saute slowly over medium low heat (3 of 10) until transluscent.  

Meanwhile, preheat a small, dry skillet over medium heat (5 of 10).  Place the coriander in it and start stirring, constantly, until the seeds are golden brown.  Place in a mortar or spice mill and crush.

Cut the meat into big, bite-sized chunks.  Place in a large bowl.  Sprinkle the oregano, parsley, coriander, cloves, and salt over the meat.  Toss them together to distribute the seasonings on the meat.

Put the meat into the Dutch oven.  Sprinkle on the sugar.  Pour the broth, wine, and vinegar over the top.

Drain the pineapple.  If the chunks are large, coarsely chop them.  Add to the Dutch oven.

Stir everything well.  Bring the liquid to just barely boiling, then reduce the heat to low (1 of 10).  

Cover the pan and cook, stirring occasionally, for 1 1/2 hours or until the meat is very tender.  The stew should be barely simmering.

Untoasted coriander on the left.  Toasted in the mortar, just before crushing.  

Ready to slow cook.

After 1 1/2 hours.

My Notes

I laughed at how the recipe does not include measurements for everything except the sugar.  I guess that no matter how much pork and et cetera you have, you should only use one tablespoon sugar.

I could have used fresh oregano and parsley, but I chose to use dried, just for convenience.  

The Verdict

I served it with white rice on the side.

First I tasted the liquid with it.  It was slightly sweet, but more savory, and the flavors of the spices and herbs came through.  I was glad the vinegar was not dominant, but it seemed to balance out the sweet of the pineapple and the umami of the cooked pork and chicken broth.

Then I tasted the meat.  It was so very tender!  But not overcooked, so still a touch firm, which I liked.  

The onions and garlic were subtle background flavors.  I could barely tell they were there.  The pineapple was cooked to tender, too.  

My guest taster and I both thought the salt level was just right.

We both agreed, however, that the herbal flavors were dominant, and we thought that did not seemed balanced.  So we added some (non-toasted) ground coriander to our bowls of stew and stirred it in.  That was much better!  It seemed to reduce the impact of the herbs in a very positive way.  Definitely more balanced.

So I added a teaspoon of ground coriander to the rest of the stew.  I have not tried it yet, but I think it will be fine.

I recommend using 2 teaspoons or more of the whole coriander to see if that suits your tastebuds.

Success!

We enjoyed it, especially with the rice to mix with the stew's liquid.  It is not a blockbuster meal as the flavors are not bold, but it is a nice, shall I say "calm" meal.  Not everything has to knock your tastebuds over.  

There was enough stew left over that we look forward to having it for another dinner.

Tamales dulces - Sweet tamales (pg 260)

I love tamales - my father used to bring home dozens of savory chicken and pork tamales from work.  He purchased them from ladies who made them during the Christmas season, and I always felt that made them special.  Imagine how my sweet tooth reacted the day I learned about sweet tamales. 

Encarnación Pinedo included 11 tamale recipes in her Tamales section.  I have previously did one of them:  Click here for Part 1 and click here for Part 2 .  Three of her recipes are labeled as sweet tamales.  

The one I tried for today is on page 260, and is the second recipe on that page labeled as "Tamales dulces."

My Translation

My Redaction

3 pounds masa

1/2 pound butter, melted

8 egg yolks

1 1/2 cup sugar

7 cups hot water or more

1 cup raisins

1 cup slivered almonds

1/8 cup sesame seeds

2 tablespoons cinnamon

1 pound bag of corn husks

Rinse the corn husks, changing the water frequently, then set them aside to drain and soften.  I put them in a colander over a towel.

In a VERY LARGE bowl, mix the masa, butter, egg yolks, and sugar.  Add the water and mix well.  Add more water if the mixture is stiff.

Using a sturdy spoon (that won't bend or break), whip the dough until it gets lighter in color, smoother in texture, and the egg yolks no longer look like yellow dots in the masa (they are distributed better).  I used my stand mixer and whipped the dough in batches because there was so much, then I mixed the batches together by hand in the bowl.

Mix in the raisins, almonds, sesame seeds, and cinnamon.  It is well-mixed when the cinnamon looks evenly distributed through the dough.

Spread the mixture on a husk.  Fold up the bottom, then fold in the sides, then fold over the top.  

Have a large kettle ready with hot water on the bottom and some sort of tray over it.  The tamales should sit over the water.  Pile them in, but not too densely.  Cover them with some husks or a piece of parchment paper. If you are steaming multiple batches (and you will, if you make the whole recipe!), you can reuse the husks covering.

Put the lid on the kettle and heat the water to steaming.  Turn the heat down so that the steaming continues but is not boiling all the water off.

Steam the tamales for 1 to 1 1/2 hours, depending on how many are in the kettle and how big they are.

Check for steaming and if more water needs to be added.

Remove tamales and let cool.  Serve warm or room temperature.

That is a very large bowl.  Masa and such before water was added.

Masa mixture with water, ready to be whipped.

Whipped masa.  Lighter in color, smoother in texture.

With raisins, sesame, almonds, and cinnamon.

All well blended.  By hand!

Small amount.  Ready to wrap.

Wrapped.

Ready to steam.  Maybe not so many next time.

Steamy!  Done!

My Notes

For the record, this is a huge amount of dough.  You might want to reduce the recipe by half or more so it can fit in the bowl of a stand mixer.  Seriously, I think my arms are strong enough now to compete in rowing!  

Seven cups of water is not my definition of  "a little hot water."  I think it would have been better to use 8 or 9.  The dough was too stiff, I think, and I should have been more generous with the water.  You don't want the dough runny, but it should be soft and spreadable.  

Some websites suggest steaming them for less time.  I can't really comment on that.

I was taking some to a gathering where we wanted nibbles for everyone, so I made many small tamales.  The goal was 3 to 4 bites each.  Once I had about 35 small ones, I made bigger ones.  Some of the husks were big enough that I split them in half for the small tamales.  Overall, I got nearly 70 tamales.

I used all the husks in my bag and still had some dough left over.  I wrapped it in parchment paper instead of husks to see how that would work.

The Verdict

I asked the people at the gathering to give me feedback, negative or positive.  The responses were mixed.  Several said, "Not a fan."  Mostly it seemed that the texture was bothering them.  Some thought there was not a lot of flavor.  Others said they liked it; they thought the flavors were balanced and good.  Several liked it enough that they asked to take some tamales home, which I gladly agreed to, considering how many were left at my home.  

Cooked.

The interior, to show the texture.  Too dense, I think.

My take?  I wanted there to be some salt in it.  Just a little.  I wanted more raisins.  And a lot more cinnamon.  And some more sugar, although everyone I asked thought the sweetness level was just right.  I could not taste the sesame seeds, but I'm not sure I wanted more in there.  I think I would leave them out completely.  The almonds were a good addition, although I think chopped almonds would have been better than slivered.  

I had the advantage of tasting several tamales over several days, and I noticed that the texture was not consistent.  Some were dense and firm, others were soft and tender.  The point of whipping the dough is to mix in air and make the mixture smoother before cooking.  That results in a tender texture, which is pleasant to eat.  So I suspect I was not giving some batches enough time in the stand mixer to fully whip them, or I piled too many tamales into the kettle and they didn't steam well.

Success, but with caveats.  Unless you have a very large bowl and a sturdy spoon, make a smaller version of it.

I'm not sure if using both the husks and the lid as covers were necessary.  It might be that she did not think of using both, and if your kettle doesn't have a lid, the husks would do the trick.  I have not used both the few times before I've made tamales, and the lid did just fine.

Several of us thought the tamales were best serve heated, for example for about 20 seconds in the microwave. Definitely not good served cold. 

The paper-wrapped tamales were fine.  I did not see a difference between them and the husk-wrapped ones.  

At the gathering, some people expressed surprise at the existence of sweet tamales.  They only had experienced savory, meat-filled one.  I was glad to expand their knowledge.