Remembering and Reliving: Tortillas

I have a strong memory of my mother making homemade tortillas for us to eat. We use to sneak a tortilla or two right off of the stove, slather it with butter, roll it up and enjoy the warm and soft treat. My mom made tortillas like an expert. After she remarried her knack for cooking delicious Mexican food dwindled and she stopped making tortillas.

Last year, my Mother moved in with my partner and I. My mom stayed here for a year and it was great. We cooked and laughed and taught each other a lot. After exactly a year my mom made the decision to move back to Las Vegas. I remember the day she left Brian and I wished her well and watched her walk across the security check-in at the airport. I held it together, but Brian didn't. As soon as we got into the car and started on the drive home I cried. I cried when we got home. I cried the next day and the day after that. Brian and I took a long weekend in North Carolina and had a good time. The day we came back to Ohio and our home I cried again. To me our home and my kitchen did not feel the same. I cooked side-by-side with her for a year and had grown to love this time together. The first time I cooked something in the kitchen without her I stood there for about five minutes in silence just staring and wishing she would come down from her room and ask me, "What are we cooking?" I remember just staring and staring.

I consciously avoided returning to normal life and everyday tasks. My grocery partner was gone, so I stopped buying groceries. A trip to Wal-Mart turned into me being sad because I was there alone. It has been three weeks since my mom has left and I have slowly begun to stop avoiding doing the things that I use to do with her.

One thing my mom tried to remaster while she was here was tortilla making. She tried to recall the recipe she used and threw some ingredients into a bowl and rolled them out like a champ. We both crunched on those over-sized flavorless jawbreakers and smiled a bit we did not touch them again. She had lost her touch for making those warm delicate treats.

The best cook I have ever met was my Nana Gastelum (My Dad's mother). She fed all of us. For her, feeding us was to show us how much she loved us. Every Sunday we would go to her house for breakfast. We would eat a big delicious breakfast and clear the table by the time the table was cleared she would begin cooking us lunch. We were all stuffed from breakfast, but we enjoyed the time with her and her cooking.

I remember when she was very, very sick right before she passed away and my Dad went to visit her. She was in bed and when my dad arrived she asked him if he had eaten yet. He responded, "no" and that he was not hungry. I remember her trying to get out of the bed and coughing and coughing because she was so upset that her son had not eaten. I remember my dad telling her to stay in bed and rest and he went into the kitchen and ate something just to appease her so she could rest. I have adopted that same philosophy. Anyone who comes into our home is usually fed well. When I cook I try and make it the best it can be and I hope each and every one of our guest feel satisfied and cared for.

I have slowly made my way back into the kitchen with my mom gone. The item I have decided to tackle pays homage to both my mother and my grandmother, tortillas. Have a look:

The ingredients for tortillas can be found in any pantry and the process is very easy.

4 C. All Purpose Flour
2 Tsp Salt
1 TBS Baking Powder
1/4 Vegetable Shortening
1 1/2 - 2 C. Very Hot Water


1. All of the dry ingredients are combined by hand in a large bowl.

2. The vegetable shorting is then cut into the flour by hand until it is evenly distributed throughout the flour.

3. Slowly add the hot water 1/2 a cup at a time mixing with your hand. You will probably not use all 2 cups of the water.

4. Mix the dough until it becomes a smooth ball. I kneaded it by hand for about 5 minutes. I used all but about 3/4 C. of the water. The dough should be a little sticky, but not stick to your hands.


If you look at the bowl all of the flour is incorporated and the ball is a little tacky. The Ball of dough should rest for half an hour. After the resting period I pinched the dough into balls the size of golf balls, I had 18.


Each ball must be rolled out very thin. I tried using a regular rolling pin, but did not have much luck.


Here is my very first tortilla cooking away on a cast iron griddle. My grandmother had a Comal to cook her tortillas in. A comal is a very well seasoned, thin and usually very old cast iron skillet.


I used a dry towel to press the tortilla onto the griddle. The griddle was hot and I flipped the tortilla after about 30 seconds.


This tortilla would not get my grandma's seal of approval! It was thick and misshaped!


I switched to a french rolling pin and that worked much better. I rolled each tortilla out very flat. A few tricks which helped me were to use enough bench/dusting flour to make sure the tortilla does not stick to either the surface of the counter or my rolling pin and to turn the tortilla a quarter of a turn after each roll. MUCH BETTER AND ROUNDER!


You can see that my tortillas improved as I made them.


Here is my stack of warm and beautiful tortillas. They were not crunchy and they reminded me of the delicious ones my mother and grandmother use to make.

I made Nicole get the butter and eat one while it was still warm.


I could not resist making each of us a quesadilla while the tortillas were fresh and the griddle was still warm.


The tortilla toasted up beautifully and the cheese melted and became gooey!


Some sour cream and salsa topped off this wonderful treat.


This is the only picture I have of my grandmother. I have it in my bedroom in a frame that says, "I love you!" It reminds me of the wonderful woman my grandmother was and just how much she loved us. I am not sure about my feelings of the afterlife and/or ghosts, but every now and again I am overtaken by a feeling of pure love. I can only describe it as being hugged and told, "I love you!" In my heart I know that it is my grandmother telling me that she loves me and is watching me and my response is, I love you too....