"Wait, we could make them!" I said.
"We could. But I could also run to the store. Much easier," he replied.
"My dad made tortillas from scratch all the time, when he hiked the Appalachian Trail. He's famous for it in all the books about the first through-hikers. How hard can it be, if he managed in the wilderness?"
Thus began the Great Tortilla Race.
I found a recipe, knocked out these homely-but-delicious babies, cooked and consumed a quesadilla, and cleaned the kitchen. Doug's still in a sluggish checkout line, then has to face three miles of rush-hour traffic home.
|Thanks for the inspiration, Dad! And bravo to Doug for dealing with holiday hubbub!|