I forgot I had a tortilla press. When I was recently riffling through my cabinet on the hunt for an errant springform pan, I came across it buried under a pile of Chinese delivery menus and a rolling mat. There it sat—dusty, rusty and unloved. I felt so unappreciative, especially as my tortilla press had been a gift from my mother.When I lived in Iowa in the early '90s, the only flour tortillas I could find were at the health-food co-op, and they were the color and texture of cardboard, heavy with grains and just way too nutritious for me. I wanted fluffy, thick white-flour tortillas that came spotted with brown specks from the comal, still warm in the bag they were so fresh. But that wasn't happening, so I realized I needed to take matters in my own hands and learn how to make flour tortillas at home.
After doing much research, I settled on a recipe from Diana Kennedy. I don’t know if it was my inadequacies or her directions, but something wasn't right. Working with the dough was like pulling elastic—I'd roll it out and just when I thought I’d formed a perfect tortilla, it would snap back to where I had started.
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