It wasn't exactly baking but I made homemade flour tortillas again today.
It always seems like such an AWESOMELY EXCELLENT idea when I start.
You know the stages of grieving?
Well I've found that making tortillas has stages as well.
Stage 1: I FUCKING LOVE HOMEMADE TORTILLAS THIS WILL BE AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!
Stage 2: Assemble ingredients, make the dough, separate dough into balls and set to rise. Survey the carnage and say happily and with much determination, "it's ok, I'll clean it up later".
Stage 3: After the dough has rested for the required hour (it doesn't really rise), get out more flour, the rolling pin, the nonstick pan, and make sure the music is playing because once you start the process you can't really stop.
Stage 4: You're still excited to go through with this you poor, silly fool.
Stage 5: Roll out the first one and plop it in the pan to dry fry.
Stage 6: Feel a little smug that you're making homemade tortillas that will taste so much better than the store bought ones.
Stage 7: Stop feeling smug and realize you've got the get the next one rolled out while the first one is cooking.
Stage 8: Realize you've got the pan too hot. Fuck. Put that one aside for the dog.
Stage 9: Adjust the temperature and get right down to business humming along with the music and having fun with your own personal assembly line of roll one out, flip, the one in the pan, spank the excess flour off of the next one to go into the pan, and repeat.
Stage 10: You starting to get tired now aren't you? You look over at your tray of dough balls and realize you're only half way through them.
Stage 11: You roll one out that looks like a Base ship from Galactica and giggle.
Stage 12: You look over at the one in the pan and it's blown up like a big balloon and you look over at your dog, hold up your arms and say, "eeeeeet's aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive!".
Stage 13: You keep going but the next ones are pretty plain and some even annoy you by sticking to the rolling pin. You start thinking how cheap it is to actually buy a package of tortillas.
Stage 14: Can't slow down...gotta keep up the pace...roll, flip, spank....roll, flip, spank...
Stage 15: OMG it's getting hot over the stove and my head itches. MUST.NOT.SCRATCH. Can't dirty my hands now...gotta keep going.
Stage 16: Getting tired of having to wipe the burning excess flour (that didn't come off in the spanking process) out of the pan every so often. My apartment now smells like burning flour.
Stage 17: Sweet Jesus there's flour everywhere. I wonder if you can die from inhaling too much flour. I wonder to myself if I went out and got stopped by a cop right now, would he/she think I was snorting coke?
Stage 18: Oh god no more...back hurts...it's hot...so much flour...but they'll taste soooo frikken good.
Stage 19: Look over at the tray....there's only a few left. I look at my dog and say, "WE'RE IN THE HOME STRETCH BUDDY!"
Stage 20: Finally the last one is in the pan. I survey the tortilla aftermath in my kitchen. There's a thick coating of flour everywhere. I know the mess will take FOREVER to clean up and I wonder why I bother doing this.
Stage 21: I take one off the stack, rip it in half, give half to the dog and try the other half. OMG THESE ARE SO FREAKING AMAZING!!!!! NO WONDER I LOVE TO MAKE THESE SO MUCH!!!
Stage 22: Eat dinner. Lap up compliments. Think to myself, " I should make these more often".
Stage 23: Come back downstairs to my apartment for the night, look again at the tortilla aftermath in the kitchen and realize there's no way you're going to clean it up tonight. Fuck it. It can wait until tomorrow.
This is what tortilla aftermath looks like.
They were really good.
I'd post the recipe but I'm too tired.
