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VIKING, 1995
(available in paperback from Penguin, 1996)
WHEN DELANEY MOSSBACHER swerves his car into Cándido Rincón as Rincón runs across the road in Topanga Canyon, California, two alien worlds collide: affluent California meets the precarious existence of the illegal Mexican immigrant. In The Tortilla Curtain, T. C. Boyle weaves a story of two couples who inhabit these separate worlds and the fateful intersection of their lives.
Delaney and Kyra Mossbacher are Southern Californians preoccupied with their jobs, raising their son, socializing with friends, and maintaining their health and fitness. But threats from outside his gated community of Arroyo Blanco Estates worry Delaney. There are coyotes who mangle his dogs and Mexican immigrants who, residents suspect, squat in the surrounding hills and ravines, waiting for opportunities to steal. Even liberal-minded Delaney and Kyra, who want these immigrants to have their rights, feel overwhelmed.
Cándido and América Rincón are two Mexican immigrants who came to the United States with dreams of a better life. They end up fighting starvation in a makeshift shelter they have built in a ravine just outside the walls of Arroyo Blanco. They suffer almost unbearable indignities—abuse, hunger, and the despair of chronic unemployment—at the hands of a population that increasingly fears and scorns them.
After the car accident, the parallel lives of the two couples continue to veer menacingly close, until their fates finally intersect in an ironic and unexpected way.
Food symbolizes the couples’ vastly different circumstances. Delaney grills tofu kabobs “with his special honey-ginger marinade.” Kyra insists that her son eat healthy granola for breakfast, over his protests, and the couple enjoys veggie curry and samosas at an Indian restaurant. For Kyra and Delaney, food serves as a vehicle to a healthy life, enriched by exotic combinations of flavors. As they eat, Kyra and Delaney discuss other matters—Kyra’s real estate deals, for example. Food comes easily to the Mossbachers; they never have to worry about their next meal.
By contrast, Cándido and América never know where—or whether—they will find dinner. Their deprivation—and perhaps their culture—leads them to a heightened enjoyment of food: its tastes and smells, the experience of picking it off the store shelves, and anticipating its consumption. The joy of shopping together and anticipating the meal fortifies Cándido against the burdens of life and fills him with love for his wife. As he watches América select eggs, feelings for her mingle with his fantasies of food: “She was selecting a carton of eggs—huevos con chorizo, huevos rancheros, huevos hervidos con pan tostado—flicking the hair out of her face with an unconscious gesture as she pried open the box to check for fractured shells. He loved her in that moment more than he ever had, and he forgot that Mercedes and the rich man and the gabachos in the parking lot assailing him like a pack of dogs, and he thought of stew and tortillas and the way he would surprise her with their new camp and the firewood all stacked and ready.”
Chile peppers are enjoyed throughout the world, but no one employs them more passionately than cooks in the plant’s homeland. Mexican farmers grow more than 140 varieties of chile peppers, and Mexicans are legendary for adding “the hots” to a vast assortment of dishes.
Cándido and América’s cooking—when they can afford groceries—generally includes chiles. The meal they cook at their camp works physical changes on the couple: “The knots in their stomachs pulled tighter and tighter by the smell of it, the hamburguesa meat working with the onions and chiles to enrich the poor neutral breath of the canyon.” Cándido and América also throw chiles into cocido (stew), fried eggs, and an onion, tomato, and rice dish.
Chile peppers made their way into the build-your-own tostadas served by the Second Wednesday Dinner Book Club of Fullerton, California, for their discussion of The Tortilla Curtain. Tostadas are typical Mexican street snacks, made by piling shredded ingredients such as lettuce, cheese, and chicken on a fried tortilla, and topping it off with sour cream and salsa.
To make our green chile salsa, use whatever varieties of chile peppers are available in your area. But be forewarned: Even the tamer version of our recipe makes a medium-hot salsa that will add heat to the mildest book club meeting.
NOTE: To reduce fat, toast the tortillas in a pan oiled with cooking spray. They will not achieve the crispiness typical of a tostada, but they can be folded over with ingredients tucked inside, similar to a quesadilla.
Arrange the chicken in a single layer in a large saucepan or skillet and add water or chicken broth to cover. Sprinkle with salt, onion powder, and garlic powder. Bring to a boil, reduce heat and cover with a sheet of waxed paper, and simmer until chicken is cooked through, approximately 20 minutes.
Preheat oven to 200°F. While chicken is cooking, heat ¼ inch of vegetable oil in a skillet over medium heat. Drop in a tortilla and fry until crispy, about 1 minute on each side. Remove and drain on paper towels. Repeat with remaining tortillas, then remove to a platter, cover with foil, and keep warm while preparing toppings.
Remove chicken and discard poaching liquid. Allow the chicken to cool enough to handle, and then shred with your hands.
Heat beans and keep warm until serving time.
Heat olive oil in a skillet. Sauté the onion over medium heat until yellow and soft. Add the garlic and its soaking liquid and cook for another minute or so until aromatic. Add chicken broth and chili powder and stir to combine. Add shredded chicken, mix well, and heat through.
In a shallow casserole dish, layer the lettuce, hot chicken mixture, and shredded cheese. Place beans, sour cream, and salsa in small bowls. Spread some beans on a warm tortilla, then use tongs to add the lettuce/chicken mixture, finishing with the sour cream and salsa.
Yield: 6 servings
NOTE: Wear plastic or rubber gloves while handling chiles to protect your skin from the oil in them. Avoid direct contact with your eyes and wash your hands thoroughly after handling.
Roast chiles directly on a gas burner set to medium low, turning as needed with tongs until the skin is black and blistered on all sides. If no gas burner is available, place chiles on a broiler pan and broil approximately 4 inches from the heat, turning as needed with tongs, until the skin is black and blistered on all sides. Remove each chile as it is done and place in a plastic or paper bag, keeping the top folded to seal in heat. Allow the chiles to cool in the bag for 15 minutes.
Peel the skins off the chiles and remove and discard stems and seeds (running water is very helpful for removing seeds, but use as little as possible, to retain flavor). Purée the chiles with the broth in a blender or food processor. Transfer to a small saucepan and add the oregano and garlic. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer 20 minutes, stirring frequently. Remove from heat and stir in the sugar and salt. Allow to cool.
Before serving, stir in the lime juice and yogurt. Adjust seasonings.
Yield: Approximately 1¼ cups
NOVEL THOUGHTS
Elaborate dinners that reflect the monthly reading selection are the norm for the Second Wednesday Dinner Book Club of Fullerton, California. “Sometimes we choose the book based on its potential for a good meal,” jokes Judy Bart Kancigor of her group of gourmet readers.
The setting and subject of T. C. Boyle’s The Tortilla Curtain had special resonance with the group. Kancigor especially admired Boyle’s ability to see the world from the perspectives of both illegal Mexican immigrants and of those who often benefit from their labors—the wealthy denizens of gated communities, where illegal aliens often work as domestics and gardeners.
“Being south of Los Angeles, we have a large Mexican population,” says Kancigor. “We discussed how we often see crowds of Mexican men on street corners or in parking lots waiting for strangers to pick them up and give them work. Before reading this book, they were just a part of the landscape and we never gave them much thought. We all agreed that after reading The Tortilla Curtain, we will never look at them the same way. Boyle portrayed them in such a sympathetic light, but the besieged homeowners are sympathetically portrayed as well. Boyle does not pass judgment, but allows the reader to sympathize with both groups.”
More Food for Thought
Capitalizing on the ever-present tortillas in The Tortilla Curtain, Lynne Thissell of the Portola Hills Book Group in Portola Hills, California, served tortilla pinwheels (sliced turkey or roast beef, scallions, sour cream, and green chiles spread over a flour tortilla, rolled, then chilled and sliced), taquitos (corn tortillas filled with shredded beef or chicken, rolled and deep-fried), chips and salsa, and sangría for her group’s discussion of the book. “Like other meetings where we’ve served theme-based foods,” says Thissell, “the foods for our Tortilla Curtain meeting seemed to add an extra flair to the evening, creating yet another avenue of conversation.”
Members of the Cultures Club, a program of the Park Forest Public Library in Park Forest, Illinois, read about, research, and discuss a different culture at each monthly meeting. For their discussion of The Tortilla Curtain, facilitator Leslie Simms bought Mexican candies at a Latino grocery. She described one candy as “a strange, spicy taffy sold on plastic spoons, sort of like suckers.”
cup plain yogurt