Do you do H.A.M? - Steve Treviño - I Speak Wife 

I actually went to a Mexican's home for Christmas dinner and had tamales.

first generation here, I'm proud to say my sister and I did in fact make tamales😝😂

They don't. In El Paso, they go tp Guisses

I know how to make them, but I prefer to buy them because it is a 2 day prep. It's a lot of work!!

I buy them like the white ppl 😅it was all going good bc my husband and I were listening and laughing until he threw me under the bus too! Dammit man lol se sale

Married to azorean Portuguese and know what your talking about but my if my husband tries fix it make it worst and he’s like I should listen. To you

@@carol-annebragancaborba6134 I'm also married to a Azorean Portuguese, from Ponta Delgada. We both live in Sweden together :)

@@joakim482 we are in Canada my husband is from terceria

@@joakim482 lol you know the temper my younger son has the azorean Portuguese temper

@@carol-annebragancaborba6134 My wife is actually pretty chill compared to her siblings - according to her. So yeah, I feel for you 🤣

I agree!! We had to call the "Mexicans " to fix the so called repairs the cholos did to our house!! They did it fast and their work was super clean 👌

You show up at noon and find the Mexican taking a nap after having beer and tacos for lunch. Ask him why he's not working. His answer: "Pues, because I'm done. Finished two hours ago."

@@ronia3181 😁

My mother in law makes them still lol! Im trying to learn its hard im white and incapable!!! I will give u the recipe if u want honey

@@crystalsylvestertobeto635 I don't make them because I don't want to, I hate making them.

@@florpayan8788 it is a pain in the ass

Flor Is your neighbor Mexican. I bet he is Jijiji

I am the Mexican neighbor. I can build the swing set, make tamales, and resurface your pool all in one afternoon.

@LWIV&V it's in the blood. Sicilian. I'm second generation in America. My grandparents came over. My great-grandfather age didn't kill him at 104. A pothole and his cart rolling over him. So tragic so sad. The whole town remembered him. We have a winery in Italy. And my grandfather a bakery grocery store which turned into pastries. Not raised with my Italian family. Although I had a little secret friendship with my grandmother my nana. Found out a lot of stuff when I was young. Didn't get to see the family until I was 13. That's one hell of a crazy long story. But a crazy story at that. At 5 I started cooking. Prove to my mother that I could use the gas stove. Pastina garlic and eggs with lemon. My favorite lemon broccoli or broccolini with raw garlic. I loved the blood sausage that are butcher would make. And I adored poached eggs. It's the only way that I would eat the white. Or soft boiled eggs. My favorite. Moved on to pan seared veal. Fish. Larger proteins Cornish hen chicken. By the time I was 11, my "MARANAD" was as good as my mother's. Unfortunately I have had to have given up carbohydrates. But there is an Italian flower that I can use it is non-reactive in our family it's expensive. But of course I can make my own pasta. My husband has 15 years on me... When he met me I was just turning 23. Of course he asked me for 8 months every Friday out on a date when I was 22. It was cute he cooked. I was like wow. A man that cooks. I got tired of different proteins having the exact same flavor profile. And I am not into any vegetable and in a can. He loved le sueur peas. So... I made herb crusted veal with a mustard cream sauce, garlic smashed potatoes with parmesan and fresh grilled vegetables.. he said.. wow this must have cost a lot. What restaurant did you get this from! I laughed and said no no no. I've been cooking since I've been 5. I love food I love fresh good wholesome homemade food. I made this. I had this July 4th 1999 in a restaurant on the water in West Palm. I had to meet the chef. Talk to him for 40 minutes and he finally learned that I wasn't going to steal and sell his creation. I said wait until I make you the roasted garlic soup he made. My mouth Waters just talking about it.. so the rule is if I cook you do dishes if you cook I do dishes. I cleaned up as I went but you have dishes. He's like you cook like this. This is how you cook. Yeah. There isn't a meal that I haven't tried. I love cooking. As a matter of fact when I left home, my mom said my goodness. You sure did help a lot with that. It was expected of me. When I was 11, and my mom saw all that I could make. She said to me. Darling there's frozen chicken in the freezer pull it out and make dinner. From then on. I made dinner everyday until I left home. And to be honest with you. I enjoyed that. If I was working it was an expected. But I would make meals so that we would have meals. And I don't like anything processed. It hurts my body. Later finding we have gene mutations and can't methylate and a lot of processed foods are exceptionally bad for us. My poor brother suffered when I left home. My stepdad kicked it up a notch by buying quick made processed foods. My poor brother had allergies so bad. My mom's like, you don't know what you have until it's gone. My husband now then my boyfriend. He said to me. You cook like this. I'm sorry but I'm on strike. He was a little scoffed at me. I was like wait a second? Why are you upset? He's like I am the most basic of basic cook. And this is exquisite cuisine. I said I know I can cook anything. It's okay. You just have to step out of your range. You're just comfortable doing a few things. I'm not kidding. He's been on strike for 22 years. Because it was only within the first 3 months of our relationship that he found out I could cook. But for a solid year. He wouldn't even boil an egg. Hahaha 🤣 I'm like come on give me a break. He's like no way. I will give you a break by taking you out. Anywhere you want to eat. Years down the road. Years. My son is 16. I wasn't feeling too good and he cooked steaks. We sat there sawing at them. My son almost gagged. Needed more water. My husband put his fork down and said. This is why I stick to fish and Chicken easier proteins. I'm sorry I killed these steaks. He has this thing with cooking on our new Open flame stove with cast iron on high heat. I'm like not a good combination. I tried to tell him. But he shoes me off like I can do this I am man I did this before... No. God love him. He can smoke meat. Grilling it. Shake my head nope that's up to me. Pan searing baking leave it to me. I have to watch over him when he makes a certain recipe. Venison Francese so beautiful backstrap 2 in thick beat It down flour egg flour egg parmesan shredded from the block press pan sear until the cheese is crispy and golden. It is good to premake mushrooms beforehand. Butter mushrooms Brown them throw garlic on top let it cook for a minute set aside. Two lemons juice half zest tablespoon of butter you can add in more fresh garlic if you like that zest. Juice cooked mushrooms extra garlic butter flat leaf parsley throw a lid on it lower heat cook for 10 minutes and serve. Serve it with your favorite side. My husband's nephew called this recipe his panty dropper. My mouth is salivating. But when he cooks it I have to watch because him and high heat is not good. Especially on our new stove. I purposely within the first year of dating by 6 months. I knew his favorite foods from his mother. I worked diligently to perfect them make them more off the chart than how she made them. Oyster stew with seared scallops. 💋👌 Nobody's chicken soup is better than mine. As well as my meatballs. And he likes many varieties of them. And of course he's a heavy protein man. I love a good seared steak closer to rare. Never medium. Ruins it. Unless it's huge and thick. But that char is essential. Rack of lamb. Duck. I love Mexican food. I love Italian food. I love hunting. I love fishing. If I'm not cooking. People will starve. My husband and son. So cute. I haven't been doing well. My son got a little emotional when I cooked a meal. He said oh my God. No one looks like you Mom. I can't tell you how much that warms my heart. And Italian. Hearing how much someone adores their food and makes them emotional. I'm getting emotional just talking about it. You come into my house and I'm cooking. You're eating. My mother always said. You are never raised truly around your Italian family. But it's like it came out of your blood. You would look at things, watch me do them. And then perfect them to your own taste. I would smell herbs. And use different combinations. It was always my nose that led me in my cooking. I learned Young and paid attention. My mother quite busy in working hard. Would sleep in on the weekend. I waking up at the crack of dawn. Love a hot meal. So I paid attention to the meal she made and convinced her. I could use the stove without her. So that she could wake up and have a hot meal with me. That was the whole reason why I started cooking. I was worried that she was tired and needed nourishment. My mother always said, genetics are unbelievable. You stand like them. You talk like them. You cook like them. Your mannerisms are like them. It gave me a complex. Until I was 18 and was able to make myself look like a woman. I was never allowed to wear mascara or any type of makeup except for red or God ugly pink lipsticks my grandmother would hand me for a photograph. My whole life I was told. It's so hard to love someone so much when they look like someone you hate. And I didn't look anything like my mother. We were different colors. My grandmother later I have found that she is moroccan. I get an even deeper darker color than my Italian family. I am more mahogany in my tan. All my life I was told I looked exactly like my father. It was the running joke, did you adopt your daughter? My mother would say yes I found her at a bus stop she's so cute I just had to adopt her. A handful of her friends literally thought I was adopted. I looked like a papoose baby the day I was born. My mother holding me up to her. Even though I have the genetics to lose my tan. I'm still shades darker than her. Growing up I was always told I was pretty. Had really really long hair. My mother would curl it and do extravagant things to it. People would gasp when I walked in a room with my hair. I couldn't understand why people made such a fuss of a little girl that looks so much like a man. It wasn't until I got older and I was able to make myself look pretty. I was like oh. Oh I look pretty. My mother is like you didn't think you were pretty? I said no way. Looking like a man you hate. In those moments she was like. Oh my God. I was just joking. I said I never really thought I was pretty. Looking like a man how could a girl be pretty? Haha 😆🤣😆🤣🥴👌 she felt bad. I told her good. Now it's time to tell your friends I'm actually your daughter. Which she did. And they were shocked. She said they don't believe that I said yes they do. I am so grateful for my genes. I am so much like my family. The family that was hidden from me. The first time I made maranad for my nana. She cried. None of my cousins ever bothered to cook or help. They did help cleaning up. Or stirring something but never physically made anything. And fresh pasta. And a beautiful stacked lasagna. Seven fishes. I was a good girl, living in Florida being able to get fresh seafood. Freeze it and bring it. Oh my gosh. I blew her mind. I told her. I knew I was different and I want to thank you for our secret relationship when I was a child. It purposely led me to study the different types of foods how to make pasta. The specialty things that an Italian family has. Handed her my pepper oil. She cried.

As an italian-italian living in Italy we too are not able to do old recupero, no more 🤣🤣🤣🤣👍

I’m sure your wife does just about everything else though… 🤨

Truthfully the “Origin”-American needs to be removed after a few generations. I’m a Mexican-American. My parents were born and raised in Mexico but I was born and raised here in the US. I feel the term Mexican-American is appropriate for people like me that are first generation. I speak Spanish and follow a lot of Mexican customs and culture. I also speak English and follow “American” custom and culture. Yes America has culture it’s just a melting pot of cultures from the old world. When I am here in the USA I am too Mexican to be considered just American and vice versa when I am in Mexico I am too American to be considered just Mexican. It helps first generations keep a sense of identity. For African-Americans, the term shouldn’t even be used in my opinion. First there are many countries in Africa and each has it’s own customs and culture. So only distinctions should be made for recent immigrants and their country of origin for example “Moroccan-American”. If and only if they recently immigrated and still follow Moroccan custom and culture. Besides that it doesn’t matter your race or color. If you’re Black, White, Asian, etc and only follow normal American culture then you’re American.

Because most European Americans lose their culture and assimilate into general American. The exceptions are Italians Americans and at least in east coast Irish Americans.

@petep5207 IHis deal is utilizing an outdated routine - The wife jokes. It’s not the 1950s anymore. His demographic is Boomers. They aren’t buying tickets to comedy shows where the headliner begins performing at 9:30 pm because they’re usually like to be in bed by then.

🤣🤣

And GOOD at it

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