The masa life: How heirloom masa harina and a new (old!) world of beans can transform everyday eating

A tlacoyo filled with beans and cheese and topped with avocado, salsa macha and queso fresco

By Leslie Brenner

[Editor’s note: This is first in a series of Cooks Without Borders stories (with recipes) about how to live the masa life. Find all The Masa Life articles here.]

Heirloom-corn masa + great beans = a new way to eat

In the old days, the before days, tuna salad sandwiches were the default lunch in our household at least twice a week. Maybe thrice. 

Now we’re living the masa life — routinely making masa from masa harina (which takes all of about three minutes), pressing tortillas for tacos or tlayudas, folding tetelas or patting tlacoyos. These endlessly variable masa manifestations often become the vehicles for scratch refried beans, which have become a household staple. With simple enhancements like sliced avocado, a drizzle of always-in-the-fridge salsa macha, fresh herbs or a crumble of cheese, their simple pleasures are insanely satisfying. Add leftover roast chicken, salad greens, easy-to-make pico de gallo or salsa verde, grilled meats or fish or braised anything into the equation, and the delicious possibilities are infinite. We can also easily keep them plant-based, if that’s our desired vibe.

The life-change hasn’t come because I just learned how to make masa from masa harina (flour made from masa, the corn dough used to make all these shapes); I’ve been doing that for most of my life. It came because CWB’s resident Mexican cooking expert, Olivia Lopez, introduced me to two life-changing things: superior masa harina and a new way to think about beans. 

We’ve already written about the bean part of the equation.

[Read: “Bring on the bayos: Showing some love for Mexico’s creamy, dreamy other bean — and its kissin’ cousin mayocoba”]

Now let’s dive into the maíz (corn) side.

Masa harina gets an upgrade

Tortillas made from Masienda masa harina

Although the handmade tortillas I used to make were much better than the corn tortillas I could buy in a supermarket, the mass-produced masa harina I was able to buy did not have much character, and I knew most of it was likely to involve genetically modified corn, which I was not happy to purchase or consume. 

A fabulous new product on the market turns that equation on its head: masa harina made from heirloom corn from Mexico. Sourced from small farms, the non-GMO, landrace maíz is nixtamalized, milled and turned into masa harina by Masienda, a Los Angeles-based purveyor that supplies forward-looking chefs (including Olivia) from coast to coast. Get yourself a bag (it’s readily available online), stir in water, knead for a moment, and you’ve got shockingly good masa: the building block for all those shapes, and many others. 

 [Read “Next-wave masa: A forward-looking purveyor and passionate chefs bring heirloom corn from Mexico to their tables and yours”]

Red, white and blue non-GMO heirloom corn masa harina from Masienda

I’m not the only one who considers this new heirloom masa harina to be a game-changer for home cooks. Gonzalo Gout, one of the four authors (including super-chef Enrique Olvera) of the superb 2019 book Tu Casa Mi Casa: Mexican Recipes for the Home Cook, seems equally excited.  

Because many of the recipes in Tu Casa Mi Casa are heavily reliant on masa, and the book was published just before the Masienda masa harina came on the market, I wondered if Gout would have seen its appearance as a game-changer, and what he thought of the product.

In an email, Gout — who along with his co-authors is involved in a number of the world’s most outstanding Mexican restaurants (including Pujol, Ticuchi and Eno (Mexico City), Criollo (Oaxaca), Cosme and ATLA (New York City), Damian (Los Angeles)  — told me: 

 “We definitely cook with Masienda’s masa harina. I use it at home! Although we make all the fresh masa in-house at the restaurants because we are privileged enough to have a molino, we use the masa harina in dessert tuiles, in batters — like the fried fish taco at Damian — or to quickly dry up some overly wet masa. I mentioned it briefly in the book, but I genuinely believe that the problem with masa harina is not necessarily the process but the quality of corn behind it. Masienda solves that problem. For a home cook without access to a molino, making fresh tortillas from a good quality masa harina is far superior to buying industrial tortillas. Few things beat a fresh tortilla, and a good masa harina gets you pretty close to perfect.”

Blue corn tetelas topped with roasted salsa verde, crema and salsa macha

That’s so true, and the possibilities heirloom corn masa harina opens up for making tacos and tamales — and a whole bunch of other masa shapes — at home are cause for celebration: 

• Homemade tortillas have a life beyond tacos: Dry them out in the oven or on the comal until they’re crisp, and they become tostadas — a base for ceviches or salad-y assemblages.

• Triangular tetelas are not-yet-cooked tortillas folded around a filling (often beans and cheese) then griddled on both sides. Simple and delicious, you can dress them up with salsas — or not.

• Tlacoyos are eye-shaped masa patted or pressed a bit thicker than a tortilla and folded up along the middle also to enclose fillings. Flattened out before griddling, these make wonderful canvases for toppings like avocados or grilled sliced meats. If you make them in advance (including the griddling part), you can reheat them by pan-frying them, which makes the bottom wonderfully crispy.  

• Small, round masa cakes known as sopes are easy to form (no tortilla press necessary) and super versatile. A ridge around their edge holds fillings (beans, meats, cheese, salsas, etc.) in place.

• My current obsession is the tlayuda, or rather a mini-version, a tlayudita. In its home in Oaxaca, a tlayuda is a pizza-sized corn tortilla griddled till it’s crispy-chewy, then spread with refried black beans while it’s still on the comal. Once off, it’s topped with meats, cheese, sliced tomato or radishes, or whatever you like. 

Avocado Tlayudita with Salsa Macha, inspired by a tlayudita at For All Things Good in Brooklyn, NY

The tlayudita: a deliciously chewy-crunchy little canvas

In coming stories, we’ll individually explore each of the above. For today, let’s talk more about the tlayuda/tlayudita. As long as you have a tortilla press, it’s easy to achieve and allows for endless improvisation with the toppings — much like a pizza.

Do a Google image search of “tlayudas in Oaxaca” and you get an instant sense of how they’re eaten and riffed on there: On top of the beans go any combination of cheese (often quesillo, Oaxacan string cheese), sliced tomatoes, crumbled chorizo or other meats, avocados. No doubt you’ll have your own ideas.

To make a legit tlayuda, you’d need a tlayuda press, which is like an oversized tortilla press — it’s a piece of equipment most of us home cooks do not own. (Though you could buy one if you’re deep-pocketed and dedicated to making full-sized tlayudas.) I’m sure it would be heresy to say this in Oaxaca, but I think a mini-version is just as nice — and you can use your regular tortilla press to make them.

Lately I’ve been loving a really simple tlayudita. Rather than black beans, I usually make refried mayocoba, bayo or mantequilla beans, as they cook much more quickly than frijoles negros. Their creaminess makes them ideal for quickly turning into quick vegan refritos. Just sweat a little chopped white onion and garlic in olive oil, add cooked beans and mash with a potato masher or bean masher, adding in some bean-cooking liquid as needed to get the right consistency. (I also keep cans of refried beans in the pantry for when I don’t have an hour or two to make mayacobas. Not as fabulous to be sure, but for quick lunches or weeknight dinners, I occasionally go that route.) 

On top of that I arrange slices of avocado (a squeeze of lime sprinkled over), a drizzle of salsa macha, a few cilantro leaves. Inspired by a tlayudita I enjoyed at a wonderful cafe and masa shop in Brooklyn, For All Things Good, it makes a fabulous vegan lunch. 

RECIPE: Avocado Tlayudita with Salsa Macha

Tlayudita with a garden vibe

Chicken Salad Tlayudita

My personal riffing often takes me more salady. I’ve become addicted to a version that’s like a cross between a tlayuda and a chicken tostada — a crispy-chewy tlayuda base spread with refried beans while it’s still on the comal, topped with a handful of tender salad greens, diced avocado, shredded chicken, cilantro, pico de gallo and a crumble of queso fresco. Even thinking about it puts me in a good mood. 

RECIPE: Chicken Salad Tlayudita

Provisioning the masa life

Ready to start exploring the masa life by diving into tlayuditas? Get yourself some heirloom corn masa harina and (if you don’t already have one) a tortilla press. (Olivia has the one Masienda sells; it’s on my wish-list. We’re featuring that press in the Cooks Without Borders Cookshop, where you can also find an inexpensive starter model, the Masienda masa harina, and other cool tools and ingredients.) To cook the tlayuda base, a comal is great, but any griddle or cast-iron pan also works fine.

Then consider ingredients. If you fall in love with the masa life as quickly and irrevocably as we have, you’ll start stocking your pantry and fridge accordingly. Here’s what I try to keep on hand: 

• Dried beans — any or all of the following: mayocobas, bayos, mantequillas, frijoles negros, pintos (note that frijoles negros and pintos take longer to cook than the first three). I prefer to buy heirloom varieties of any of the above (Ranch Gordo is our favorite source), but even using supermarket beans is pretty great. If you cook up a big pot, you can have beans to quickly turn into refritos for the whole week.

• A salsa or three: salsa macha, roasted salsa verde, salsa roja. I like to make my own salsa macha and roasted salsa verde, but you can also purchase them.

• White onions, limes, serrano or jalapeño chiles, ripe tomatoes, cilantro, avocado, garlic, salt. Chop one ripe tomato with onion, serrano, cilantro and salt and you’ve got a fabulous pico de gallo. Avocados can be sliced or turned into guacamole or avocado purée, all great tlayudita toppings.

• Salad greens for making my salady spin: spring greens, romaine (for shredding) or baby arugula.

• A cheese or two. Queso fresco, quesillo and cotija are my masa-life faves; I find the best of those at a supermarket specializing in Mexican products. Confession: Mexican-style cheese blends usually lives in my fridge for when I run out of the first three. (Queso fresco doesn’t stay fresh very long.)

Here are some things I like to have on hand as well, but don’t find as essential:

• Crema (Mexican-style sour cream) or American-style sour cream — these can be super nice to squiggle on for added richness.

• Cooked chicken — I often pick up a supermarket roast chicken when I feel tlayuditas coming on. One breast is more than enough for two generous Chicken Salad Tlayuditas, and the rest of the chicken can be used for tacos. Or make an easy roast bird.

• Dried avocado leaves or fresh epazote: One or the other is excellent for flavoring home-cooked dried beans.

• Tomatillos — in case I want to blitz up a quick, fresh salsa verde in the blender. 

• Canned refried black or pinto beans — I buy organic ones. For when a tlayudita craving hits and I don’t have time to make dried beans.

• A jar of store-bought salsa — for emergencies!

 Got it? We can’t wait for you dive in. And we’re happy to answer any questions — about ingredients, techniques, equipment or whatever. Drop us a note in comments below. And look for the next installment of The Masa Life!

RECIPE: Avocado Tlayudita with Salsa Macha

RECIPE: Chicken Salad Tlayudita

READ: “How to make tetelas — those tasty, triangular masa packets that are about to become super trendy.”

Next-wave masa: A forward-looking purveyor and passionate chefs bring heirloom corn from Mexico to their tables and yours

Heirloom maize and masa harina from Masienda

By Leslie Brenner

[Editor’s note: Since this article was first published, Masienda founder Jorge Gaviria published a cookbook — Masa: Techniques, Recipes, and Reflections on a Timeless Staple. Read our review.]

Ten years ago, most people who live and eat in the United States had never heard the word “nixtamal.” I know what you’re thinking: Still today most have not heard it. (It’s pronounced “neesh-ta-mal.”) But many who are serious about Mexican food most certainly have heard the word — and probably tasted dishes made from fresh nixtamal, as more and more chefs here are nixtamalizing corn in their own restaurants in order to make outstanding tortillas and masa-centric dishes.

Nixtamalization, of course, is the ancient process by which maize (corn) is transformed by soaking it, then cooking it in an alkaline solution, making it suitable to grind into masa, the dough from which tortillas (and tamales, sopes, tetelas, etc.) are made.

Prepared with lime (calcium hydroxide, known in Spanish as “cal”) or wood ashes, the alkaline solution loosens the pericarp (skin) on each kernel — so it can be removed, making the kernels easier to grind than they would otherwise be. It also unlocks proteins and frees up the niacin in the grain, making it much more nutritious. It kills pathogens as well, making it safer.

Once that pericarp is removed, the blanched grain becomes nixtamal. From there, it can either be cooked and eaten whole — most notably in pozole — or ground into masa, the dough from which tortillas and so forth are made. 

Nixtamal made from single-origin maiz cacahuazintle from Edo de México

Invented by the Aztec and Maya civilizations, nixtamalization is a process that has been key to culture in Mesoamerica since at least 1500 to 1200 BCE, according to Sophie Coe, who wrote in The Oxford Companion to Food that “typical household equipment for making nixtamal out of maize is known on the south coast of Guatemala” during that period. Coe is also author of America’s First Cuisines. 

The exact time and place where nixtamalization was first accomplished is uncertain, Amanda Gálvez, PhD, tells us in Nixtamal: A Guide to Masa Preparation in the United States. “But archeological sites dating to around 1000 B.C. point to the use of alkali from residues found in ceramics.”

You may be wondering: Can dried corn be consumed without nixtamalizing it? Yes! That’s what cornmeal — also known as grits or polenta — is. But if you’ve ever tried making a tortilla with cornmeal, you know that it doesn’t hold together. 

Here’s how Gálvez explains why the nixtamalizing transformation is essential to make tortillas:

“The original grain hemicellulose partially dissolves, and starch becomes gelatinized (hydrated, swollen and cooked. The masa swells and cellulose is chemically transformed by alkali. All of these changes allow the masa to be flexible, capable of being extended flat before being baked on a hot pan, resulting in a thin, flexible bread.” 

What is masa harina? Moist masa dough that is dried and then ground into powder. More on that presently. 

Nixtamal’s next wave

Let’s return to those forward-looking (and backward-looking!) chefs cooking Mexican food in the U.S., who have committed themselves to making their own masa, starting with nixtamalizing in their own restaurants. In early 2015, Food & Wine magazine called house-made tortillas a “new trend to watch for” in the coming year, though the story didn’t specify whether these tortillas were actually made with freshly made nixtamal. House-made tortillas had already been big where I lived (and still live), in Dallas, for years. In fact, trailblazing Dallas chef AQ Pittman (then known as Anastacia Quiñones) was nixtamalizing corn to make her own fresh masa at a restaurant called Alma back in 2011. (She continues to do so at the restaurant where she’s now executive chef, José.) Since 2015, the house-made tortilla trend — including in-house nixtamalization — quickly picked up steam, and it’s now going on all over the country.

Which brings us to the new wave: A growing number of nixtamal-focused chefs in the U.S. are using heirloom corn varieties sourced from Mexico to make nixtamal that’s much more nuanced and deeply flavored than nixtamal made from widely-available (industrially farmed) white maize.  

Jorge Gaviria in Oaxaca / Photo by Molly DeCoudreaux, courtesy of Masienda

Behind that movement is purveyor Jorge Gaviria, a chef and entrepreneur who fell into the heirloom seed movement when he apprenticed with Dan Barber at Blue Hill at Stone Barns in 2013. The following year, Gaviria learned of some three million small-scale farmers in Mexico, a number of whom had been collaborating with seed breeders to bolster native populations and were growing traditional, flavor-focused native varieties. He started buying surplus corn from 100 of them, and when he learned that Mexico City superstar chef Enrique Olvera (Pujol) was about to open Cosme in New York City, Gaviria offered to supply him with heirloom corn. Olvera agreed, and Gaviria’s company — Masienda — was born. 

Before long, Gaviria was also supplying Carlos Salgado (Taco Maria), Rick Bayless (Frontera Grill and Topolobampo in Chicago), Gabriela Cámara (Contramar, Cala) and Sean Brock (Minero), Steve Santana (Taquiza) and others. 

Here’s where it gets really exciting for home cooks: You can buy several varieties of the heirloom corn — along with cal, and everything you need to make tortillas, such as a fabulous-looking tortilla press and a traditional comal — online at Masienda. In his 2019 cookbook Tu Casa Mi Casa, Pujol’s Olvera called Masienda “a wonderful project that we recommend as the best source of heirloom corn outside of Mexico.”

The Masienda website is also a treasure-trove of excellent videos about making nixtamal, grinding it into masa, making tortillas and more.

Although making masa for tortillas is extremely involved, no special equipment is required to simply nixtamalize the corn — all you need is a big pot. Grinding it is where things get complicated. Professional molinos (mills) are gigantic and extremely expensive; a smaller molinito is $1,750 and weighs 82 pounds. Masienda sells a small, inexpensive hand-cranked mill, and also has a video showing how to make masa using your food processor. I haven’t yet attempted either, but plan to do so soon.

Two easy ways to enjoy heirloom maize

I was eager to make nixtamal, though, so I bought a sack of single-origin maiz cacahuazintle from Edo de México, nixtamalized it and made an out-of-this-world pozole — literally the best one I’ve ever tasted. Want in on that? Here’s a story about it, with my recipe. Through Cooks Without Borders CookShop, you can purchase the Pozole Kit Masienda sells, another with other Masienda products. 

Pozole made with heirloom maiz cacahuazintle from Edo de México, purchased through Masienda

But even if you don’t want to go to the trouble of making nixtamal, you can still make tortillas, tetelas, tamales and other masa-driven dishes using heirloom corn. That’s because Masienda also sells special “chef-grade” heirloom corn masa harina it produces itself. (It’s also available through links at our CookShop.)

Olivia Lopez with heirloom corns from Mexico (and masa she made from them) at Billy Can Can in Dallas, TX

I learned about Masienda’s masa harina from Olivia Lopez — who recently became Cooks Without Borders’ official Mexican cuisine expert/advisor. Lopez, chef de cuisine at Dallas restaurant Billy Can Can, purchased a molinito from Masienda in early pandemic, and when the shipment from Mexico was delayed, the folks at Masienda sent her some of its heirloom masa harina to play with while she waited. 

The Colima, Mexico-born chef, who plans one day to open a tortilla shop in Dallas inspired by Olvera’s Molino in Mexico City, is in process of developing several recipes for Cooks Without Borders using the heirloom masa harina. (Look for them in coming days!)

Pineapple tamales prepared with heirloom olotillo blanco masa harina from a recipe by Olivia Lopez

Watch our Cooks Without Borders video featuring Jorge Gaviria and Olivia Lopez.

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