Late Night Cooking: Pita Chips

The other night I decided I wanted something to eat. Typical night, right? Something that did not need very many ingredients, including butter. Because when it's been a very long time since you've gone to the store, you don't have many things. Anyways, I decided I wanted pita chips. Because what could be easier?

I assumed I had all the ingredients. After all flour, water, salt, what more would you need for a flat bread? Well, apparently pita bread is not flat. Pita bread rises. Which means it needs yeast. Something I do not have on hand at my apartment. However, I did not give up. I looked up recipes for pita bread without yeast and struck gold. According to two recipes that I found, you don't need yeast to make pita bread! After several more hours of debating I decided I would just go for it.

I used a recipe I found on a blog with pictures:
Three cups of flour
One teaspoon of salt
One cup of water
A few teaspoons of oil (optional)

Mix, let sit, and fry. Easy.

Well, whoever wrote that blog post must have very different luck cooking than I do. If you remember from two previous posts Cooking Fails and Cooking Fails Part Two I don't always have the best luck in the kitchen. This time was no different.

I mixed the flour and salt. I then added the water. Now, last time I checked (the other day) one cup of water is not enough water to dampen three cups of flour. Not even a little bit. So I added a little more water. And a little more. And then a bit more after that. Much more than one cup. But just enough to make a dough. Then I threw in some unmeasured amount of oil. At this point I realized there's no point even looking at the recipe, I'm flying in the dark. By now it's about 11:30, so, not too late, but late enough. And I crept out into the kitchen to fry the dough. Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention. I wasn't even in the kitchen to begin with. I didn't want to bother my studying roommate who was in the living room, so I was trying to stay extra quiet for her.

I flattened out the dough. No problems there. I didn't even need flour. Because I had only just made a dough the flour water ratio wasn't very sticky. And fried it in the pan. I was afraid my roommate was going to look over and judge me for frying some sort of dough mixture at 11:30 at night, but she was too busy studying to care. I took it out and put the next one in. As soon as it was cool enough to bite into, actually a bit too soon for that, my mouth is still burnt, I took a huge bite. PITA. IT TASTED LIKE PITA. I was very excited. And continued to fry up dough.

By the time I got to the second one I realized that I had not actually ever been hungry. Just bored and wanting to eat. But, of course, I go for it anyways. It soooorta tasted like pita. I recognized the taste as closer to the homemade tortillas my older sister and I used to make on our tortilla maker. At this point I'm slightly less excited about frying them all up. However, I ate the second "pita" and continued frying. The third "pita" did not taste good. Not even a little bit good. It had no redeeming qualities. I kept frying. Sooner, well, actually later, I had fried all of the disgusting dough. I had still not gotten one glance from my roommate. (sound familiar?) I took it into my room and tried another one. Blargh. Gross.

The next day I threw them all away. Realizing, that I don't really like pita much anyways.

Baking with Ashton/Guest Blogging

Slow does not begin to cover how my computer has been acting. I'm pretty sure it has to do with the video software itself because when it's not trying to install my computer works fine. And by fine I mean buggy but enough fine. Anyways....

I spent much of the other day with my good friend Ashton. Part of it included baking cookies. As you know, from a few previous posts here and (especially) here, cooking with her is always an experience. Of course right before and as soon as I turned off the camera funny stuff happened. But luckily I did get a few good clips which I have put together for your viewing pleasure. And you better like it. Because it took a long-ass time to get a video editor. At first I was holding my phone/camera but then it moved to the counter.

Note: "Crack" is an amazing snack - that I make - that is not illegal. And is delicious.
And no, the title wasn't supposed to be sideways, but then it happened and it was easier not to fix it.

I was pretty surprised at the quality. I ended up using an online video editor called FileLab Video Editor, and I was not expecting much, but it turned out pretty well, right?

Changing the subject completely....

I've seen a large number of blogs who allow others to write guest posts for them from time to time. Now that I'm starting to get a higher number of viewers, I ask, is anyone interested?

If you are interested in writing a guest post - let me know.

Or, if your blog features guest bloggers and you would like me to write a post for you - let me know then too. I will write about almost anything. Just give me a topic, and I will give you content.

And I will leave you with a line I heard yesterday in Starbucks

I dedicated my life to a shrubbery.

Was it finding the shrubbery? Growing a shrubbery? I will never know, thoughts?

Cooking Fails Part Two

I didn't know I was going to need a part two. Remember when I said I don't usually have problems in the kitchen? Well, I think those days are over... I sort of had an accident.

I've used beaters tons of times but not the ones that go by themselves (except in a commercial building, but that thing could take off your arm). Anyways, I was at Ashton's house last night and using her mixer and... well, I think only pictures would do it justice.

Doesn't it look kind of pretty?

I think it's artsy. Definitely something that could be sold on Fretsy.

These are the same beaters that her mom has been using since before she was born. They're older than I am. They went all that time without being mangled. And then I came along.

Needless to say, I am on restriction in her kitchen.

Cooking Fails

I wrote this post around the same time as the last post. Except I figured it was too soon to post another one. So of course that resulted in me waiting about a month to post it. It's only logical.

Usually I'm pretty good at cooking. Cooking with me is never an adventure. I get everything or most everything out. And right after I use it, I put it away. Which is annoying sometimes, especially if things are timed. It also results in me eating cold food a lot because things are put away before I eat. But it's just what I have to do. The rest of my life is not neat, but for some reason while cooking it is. If someone else cooks I couldn't care less about the mess. But, I make what I made and that's it. Easy.

Meanwhile, cooking with my roommate from last year, I'll call her... Joe (until she gives me a better name... that's right, pressure is on) nevermind, she's already used her name so, Ashton, is always an adventure. I frequently get texts from her saying crazy things that happened in her kitchen. She always has a story. When I'm at her house and she's in the kitchen, she's probably swearing about making a huge mess or injuring herself.

However, things for me can't always go well. Sunday night I was trying to decide what to make before going to her house and I decided on something easy, frozen pizza. Very healthy, I know. Usually when this happens I end up eating the entire pizza, but I promised myself that I would eat only half of it and save the other half for Monday night.

I preheated the oven, put the pizza in, and waited. When the pizza was done I realize, as I did all the times before, I don't actually have any oven mitts. However, I solved the problem the same way I did all the other times before, I used a towel to grab it and my other hand to sort of scoot it on to the towel. Now, I have no idea what happened. I may have touched the oven rack. The pizza might have been hotter than usual. Maybe I just had bigger reflexes or less of a pain tolerance. I don't know. Whatever the reason, the result was the same. My pizza did not stay nicely balanced on my hand with the cloth. Instead it fell back into the oven. Except it did not land on its back - it landed on its face. Within seconds, before my very eyes, all the cheese had melted off of the crust into the oven. Oops. I grabbed the crust as quickly as I could, but it was too late. In my hand was a plain crust with only a few traces of sauce and in the bottom of the oven was cheese - a lot of cheese. In retrospect, I wish I had taken a picture of the glorious mess I had made.

I glanced over at the roommates watching TV on the couch - I hadn't gotten a single look from them. Which was weird because I think they have some sort of remote monitoring device in the kitchen. Every time I use it one of them shows up and watches me. I'm dead serious. The other day one of them sat with the TV on, watching me, and as soon as I went back to my room, she turned the TV off and went to hers. It's like they don't think I can use the kitchen or something. I mean, had the pizza thing happened first, I totally would have understood. But it didn't. Every time one of them (same one who was watching me that time) uses the oven she sets off the fire alarm. They cook everything in the microwave or eat something frozen up in the oven, they're the ones who can't cook. The most complicated thing they can cook is pancakes from a mix... and my sisters can make better ones from scratch without a recipe. Yes, that's right. My younger (and older) sisters can cook better than me. But I spend more time not moving. And that is clearly the more important life skill.

Anyways... I looked at my phone and realized Joe Ashton was going to be there soon. And I somehow had to clean the oven before anyone noticed. Even though they were all in the living room. Probably watching me when I wasn't looking. I turned off the oven and use the rag that had failed me to scoop cheese off the bottom of the oven. I actually would recommend this method if you ever decide to get pizza all over your oven. Go back and forth between the oven and the sink washing off what cheese you can from the rag using cold water. It took a really long time. I mean a really long time. And every time I looked over the roommates hadn't moved. Weird, right? The rag then ended up in my shower for a few weeks until it went in the washing machine. When I don't want to deal with something, I put it in my shower. If you live with me, I promise I never put trash bags in the shower. Never.

So, for the record, this is something I do not recommend. I would give it 1/10. I can't give it a 0/10 because I learned how to clean cheese out of the oven. If you do this you will 1. burn your fingers 2. have to clean the oven and, of course, the most tragic 3. not get any pizza.

Then on Tuesday, at Joe's Ashton's house, I burnt my arm making ice cream.
Yes, you read that correctly. I burnt my arm making ice cream.
'nuff said.


Since then I have not had any kitchen disasters, that I remember. And it drives me crazy that they watch me. And then have conversations about why the fire alarm isn't going off. Trying to explain that when I cook there's steam and not smoke did not help. Oh well, maybe they're just jealous of my skills because I know that there are things that can be eaten that do not come pre-made, frozen. Probably.

I am also working on a political cartoon. And by working on it I mean made it up yesterday and tried to draw it a few times. Remember my drawing skills? Yeeah. Later I will probably draw it a few more times, pick the best one, and call it a day. And then I will post it. And we will all pretend that it's supposed to look like that, and not that I can't draw to save my life. Or no one will care because it will be that awesome. And now I will go back to reading Allie Brosh's book, Hyperbole and a Half, who, if you haven't been to her blog, you should. The link should be over that way ----> (see, I can even draw arrows well).

For more accidents in the kitchen see part two.