Tortilla Disaster

I've been craving flour tortillas lately.  If anyone has ever had my mom's flour tortillas, you know that store-bought just won't do.  And since my mom doesn't live anywhere near me, that meant I was going to have to make them myself.  Years ago, my mom gave me a recipe that worked perfectly. Somewhere along the way, I lost that perfect recipe.  I could easily call my mom and ask her for it again.  She's been making these tortillas forever, but since she never measures anything, making it into a recipe isn't the easiest thing for her.  But I called her anyway and she gave me the general proportions.

Like most daughters, I've inherited quite a bit from my mom.  One of these inherited traits is the inability to measure anything before throwing it into a pan or bowl.  Ok, so maybe it's not an inability; it's more like an aversion.  Either way, I didn't measure anything.

I knew almost immediately that something was wrong.  Although the dough looked and felt right, the tortillas didn't seem to be cooking up right.  I assumed it was the stove -- I've always cooked on a gas stove and my place has an electric stove.  I assumed I just had the temperature wrong.  But that wasn't it.  My house just didn't smell like my mom's does when she's making tortillas.  That "home" smell was just missing.  I made a few before tasting one, and it definitely disappointed.  I didn't bother making the rest of the dough.

On the up side, sprinkle a bit of cinnamon and sugar on them and they're not half bad.  They have a pie crust quality to them so I'm sure I can find a few other things to sprinkle on them and enjoy.  Tomorrow I'll try measuring.