We are such Gringos

There is nothing to help you remember just how "white" you are than to attempt to make tortillas from scratch. I finally broke out the Pokeno gift I won (yes that was in early 2006, I believe) and the kids and I made fresh, homemade tortillas.

We mixed the "special" flour with just the right amount of water and waited the right amount of time for the dough to rise. We divided up the big ball into smaller balls, just like the directions said. We rolled them just so ... Notice the fabulous redneck rolling pin. My "real" rolling pen was covered in Play-doh and I was too lazy to clean it up. The cup worked just fine. We rolled, and rolled, and rolled some more. When they appeared to be just right, we plopped them on the flat iron skillet and let them cook just a little.

Did I mention what a mess this makes? When Dad came home and saw the left over "war zone", he was totally stressed out. I looked at the "war zone" and thought I had been a good mother that afternoon. The kids love it! There philosophy seems to be "The bigger the mess we can make, the better".

Oh, I think I failed to mention how HORRIBLE they tasted! I think we failed to get them flat enough. Most of them were still raw on the inside. Next time, I think I will left Mrs. Rosa's do the tortilla making.