One of my favorite parts about food is the sharing of it. While it might seem obvious that the most important part may be the eating of a meal together, sharing can also be found through the telling of wonderful foods created or eaten; the recounting of flavors discovered while traveling; the swapping of a particularly good recipe; or the recreation of a longtime family dish.

Sharing food stories, techniques or treasured secret ingredients can be a wonderful and unexpected opening into another world.

Last week I was with my family in Taos, New Mexico for the day searching out ingredients to bring back to our cabin to create a southwest Thanksgiving meal. I had homemade tamales on my mind, and I was searching out the best string of ristra - the glistening deep red New Mexican chiles that are tied together to dry to hang as an as decoration or ingredient- to bring back and be transformed into a rich red chile sauce.

The usual ristra stand was closed, so I wandered in to the next best spot - a touristly looking store filled with Mexican pottery and hundreds of ristra hanging from every possible hook and rack, high and low.

When I got in line to ask for help in choosing my ristra, the shopkeeper and a customer were having a discussion about tamale making for Thanksgiving. Even though I risked looking like a pale white woman from the North, which I guess I am, I jumped in and told them about my plans for a big batch of vegetarian tamales, ones filled with roasted corn and green chiles.

What I got in return for the risk was whole pile of tamale and red chile advice.

I learned about toasting my red chiles first, before simmering them to soften their skins. I learned about seasoning my tamale dough with homemade stock and taking it slow with the process to avoid adding too much liquid. I learned about the little market a mile down the road with the biggest, freshest, corn husks for wrapping my tamales, and about the best corn masa to buy at the natural foods store on the way out of town.

But more than information, I was brought into the fold - of sharing years of practice and information on traditional foods lovingly crafted for family and friends. I left with more than my ristra, too: I left with plans for a hands-on tamale-making lesson in New Mexico next year; confidence that I could fill my tamale wrappers with a carefully flavored mixture of corn masa and green chile; and wisdom, shared with me by a stranger.

Back over the border in southern Colorado, my mother, sister, husband and I wrapped tamale after tamale together with big, soft corn husks tied together with fat strips of more husks on Thanksgiving afternoon.

The flavor of the red chile sauce made from the ristra was deep and robust - a perfect compliment to the bright and spicy flavor of the homemade green chile sauce that completes the "Christmas-style" smothering of foods in northern New Mexico.

And the tamales? They were the best I've ever made.