Back to Basics

Though this blog has been inactive for a disgracefully long time and no doubt forgotten in the cobwebbed oubliette of the Internet, we are back.  Or at least I am.  So let's pick up from here and agree to forget that whole hiatus thing ever happened, shall we?

That said, it occurred to me that we kinda jumped into this thing full-throttle.  Not that there's anything wrong with enthusiasm and a bit of reckless abandon, but I mean, I remember MY first forays into culinary experimentation, and in hindsight I really could've used some easy starting points before delving into full-on recipes.  Doug can attest to one of our earliest attempts to be all sophisticated and non-clueless-bachelory by making, from scratch, Grilled Chicken Pasta Carbonara with Broccoli, the recipe for which went almost exactly like this:

1. In a medium grocery store, stare at shelves of ingredients.
2. Purchase 12-pack of Warsteiner and three boxes of Count Chocula.  Combine vigorously in mouth.
3. Pray for death.

Fast-forward many years later to whenever it was we started this blog, and what do we do?  We chuck you unceremoniously into the deep end of the taco tank and assume that everybody already possesses the skills to comfortably bob along.   In all likelihood, most of you do; I can name several of you who's culinary prowess is such that the very existence of an instructional Tex-Mex cookery blog from the likes of my silly ass must be insulting.  But this is the Inernet, and we must be mindful of all levels of experience.  That said, let's back up a few steps and learn how to make the most basic and critical element of the taco, without which the whole thing kinda goes to pieces.  I refer, of course, to the noble CORN TORTILLA!

Everything we've given you so far includes a tortilla, and I guess most people take it on faith that tortillas come from the grocery store in either the corn or flour and soft or hard-shell varieties.  These will get you by.  But here's the thing; they kind of suck.  Nothing against them, you understand, but how enthusiastic can we be expected to get over food that comes out of a plastic bag or a cardboard box?  And those commercials where the fake Mexican family stares hopelessly at the dining room table, trying to figure out how to keep their fake Mexican taco shells from falling over?  What the f*ck is THAT?

Here's the other thing:  YOU can make awesome tortillas all by yourself, with a process so simple and ingenious that MacGuyver would soil his duct tape underpants in shock and admiration.

WHAT YOU NEED:

• 1 3/4 cups Masa Harina, also known as Motherf*cking Corn Flour.  This can be found (you guessed it) in the Mexican or International aisle at your local grocery store, among many other places.
• 1 1/8 cups warm potable water.  Tap water, filtered water, anything you're reasonably confident in consuming will do.
• Wax paper
• Large mixing bowl
• Large skillet, preferably cast iron
• Cooking oil (corn, vegetable, something with a relatively neutral flavor and high flash point, so it doesn't catch on fire or taste as though it did)
• Tortilla press.  Or, you know, any two broad flat surfaces, like cutting boards or large books.  Specialty equipment is nice and all, but it can be expensive and inconvenient to obtain.  Besides, we've already set the mood here by mentioning MacGuyver.  

WHAT TO DO:

1. Empty the corn flour into the mixing bowl.  
2. Add the warm water and mix thoroughly.  TIP:  Follow the instructions on the bag of corn flour, as it is almost guaranteed to have this exact same recipe on the back.  
3. Properly mixed into an even doughy consistency, roll up the mixture into evenly sized balls, about 1.5 to 2 inches in diameter.  You should get about 12-15 balls.
4. Make immature joke about balls.
5. Place wax paper on top of one of your broad flat surfaces.  Put a dough ball in the middle of said surface.  Put another piece of wax paper on top of that, and press down firmly with the other broad flat surface.  You'll wind up with a neat little disk of proto-tortilla, about 5 inches in diameter and about an eighth of an inch thick. 
6. Take each of these neat little disks and place it in a hot, well-oiled skillet for about, oh, thirty seconds on each side.  Bam!  Tortillas.

I like to get a little creative for no good reason, so sometimes I'll take an orchid or other edible flower and press it into the center of the tortilla, about 3/4 of the way through the initial pressing process.  Do that, and everybody will think you're cool and sophisticated, even if you're not!  Just make sure that whatever you press into your tortilla is edible, preferably tasty but at least neutral-flavored, and most of all not poisonous.  Nobody appreciates a hemlock and pine cone tortilla, no matter how artfully rustic it may appear.

Simple.  Tasty.  Replete with feelings of accomplishment.  What more could you want, aside from something to put on top of it?  That, of course, is a story for next time.

I know we keep promising pictures and videos and other stuff that, you know, makes blogs tolerable.  And we WILL deliver, eventually.  But right now I'm on a train to DC and haven't slept in several years, so this is about all I have the willpower to handle.  Call it laziness.  Call it a lack of pride.  Both are fair.  But hang in there, remaining and improbably loyal readers!  Soon this will resemble an ACTUAL BLOG made by ACTUAL HALF-HEARTED SLACKERS!  Oh, and I might even start testing all of my recipes before posting them, too.  But lets not get ahead of ourselves.