MASA MEMORIES: MAIDA BRANCH
“I heard recently a Saidiya Hartman quote - the loss of stories sharpens the hunger for them. Maida is my expression of my own hunger for what has been lost in my family, in hopes of preserving what I find - so it won’t ever be lost again.”
- MAIDA
I met Maida on a fall day Upstate. I was living in Switzerland and returned to New York to help friends for a winter season at their restaurant. When I got off the bus from Port Authority to the small town of Andes, I was greeted by three familiar faces and a new one, Maida’s. From the start, I felt an immediate connection to and comfort around Maida. We spent the evening sharing stories over a beautiful meal in our friends’ dreamy candle-lit restaurant. Since that night, we’ve watched one another grow out of our twenties into new chapters, cheering each other on along the way. I feel so grateful and proud to call Maida my friend and sister.
Inspired from the land and family in which Maida Branch came, of Zuni & Ute captiva, and Inda-hispana descent (Dilia and Mora, NM), her family has been living in Pueblo Territory since time immemorial. Her work teaches me to always follow and seek the truth. Maida’s return to New Mexico has prompted my own craving to return home, although I’m unsure exactly where that is. I have felt at home in so many places around the world, whether with strangers or loved ones. Perhaps it is not a return to people or a specific place, instead a return to myself that Maida’s works inspires me to move towards.
I am honored to have our first Masa Memories story be an offering from someone I deeply admire. Below is our conversation with Maida about her family food traditions: Tamales made with white flour corn masa, manteca, pork shoulder and red Chile. My hope in sharing these stories is to hold space for remembrance, that together we can create a deeper connection to the earth, each other and to feel nourished by gathering here as part of this community. Thank you for joining us and for your support of MASA MEMORY.
-MM
Is there a memory that continues to inform how you cook and relate to food? Perhaps a family member, mentor or friend who is part of your Masa Memories?
My grandparents Mike and Maida helped raise me, I have really distinct sensorial memories from spending time at their home. The sound of the water rinsing my hair after my grandmother washed it in the sink, the lapping of the faucet, the soothing feeling of shampoo suds… and similarly with food, the earthy smell of pinto beans always cooking on the stove. Me as a little girl sitting on the floor using a carpeted step as a counter, to first help my grandmother roll flour tortillas.
What does Family Food Tradition mean to you?
Having my grandmother Maida teach me how to make red chile from scratch. Breaking open the chile pods, cleaning out the seeds, blending them with chicken broth, cooking a roux with flour, garlic, and salt. After making chile on my own for the first time I brought it to a class potluck in college and my very Norteña professor told me it was some of the best chile she had ever had. For me, there isn’t a more credible or validating source.
“A deeper connection to the land has taught me and given me a different understanding of time.”
You are from New Mexico and returned home after years away living in big cities. Farming, swimming in rivers, rock climbing and chopping wood are all part of your daily and weekly rituals. What is this connection to the land teaching you?
A deeper connection to the land has taught me and given me a different understanding of time. The seasons can’t be rushed, in New Mexico we have all four...and each season bears different fruits. I’m learning to appreciate each one, as well as each one’s different temperaments - how these affect the land and how every season brings different traditions and rituals. Fall brings green chile. Winter, tamales, farolitos, fires. Spring, the cleaning of the acequias, planting of seeds (late spring) Summer, river swims, later summer, harvest, bailing hay from our fields. Participating in these practices helps me slow down or speed up, depending on what is needed or given by the land.
The work, art and creative expression you are offering with Maida illuminates New Mexico’s rich history through a powerful exploration of deeper connection — encouraging a return home to one’s self. What message do you want shared and remembered from your practice with Maida?
I want to share the experience of remembering. I heard recently a Saidiya Hartman quote - the loss of stories sharpens the hunger for them. Maida is my expression of my own hunger for what has been lost in my family, in hopes of preserving what I find - so it won’t ever be lost again.
Chile, made from peppers grown in New Mexico, also made into sauce that is on every dish of New Mexican cuisine.
Norteña, a woman who is Indigenous to northern New Mexico
Farolitos, paper bags with tea lights that line buildings as holiday decoration, also known as luminarias
Acequia, an irrigation ditch - brought to New Mexico from the Spanish - some of oldest ones date back 400 years. Ours and many in the area where we live are still used for farming. They come from the arabic word as-sāqiya, meaning one that bears water.
MAIDA supports the growth of Indigenous artists and preservation of their homelands through sustainable business practices. MAIDA is a love story, a coming home story. An ever evolving project and expression of ancestry, homecoming, diaspora forced and chosen, memory learned and lost, reclamation and preservation. Inspired from the land and family in which the founder Maida Branch came, of Zuni & Ute captiva, and Inda-hispana descent (Dilia and Mora, NM), her family has been living in Pueblo Territory since time immemorial.
Based in Northern New Mexico, MAIDA showcases and supports exclusive handcrafted collaborations with Indigenous artists through various mediums. Collections reflect the rituals and culture of their origin, and are made and shared with the intention of being enjoyed by everyone, creating a conversation about their use and origin in everyday lives.
Photography by Johnny Ortiz
Learn more about Johnny's work with /shed: “an ongoing meditation on where we live in Northern New Mexico, a celebration of its nature and the fleeting of time.”