It was a baking kind of a day, but I felt like breaking my routine, no more of my usual loafs and baguettes. I thought about what I should make, vaguely remembering this post by the Frantic Foodie, unofficial de facto event planner of the Seattle food blogging scene. Soon my kitchen was under a thin blanket of flour, floating about in the air like lost snowflakes as I mixed, rolled and baked. There was, literally, pita everywhere. I made little tiny ones for breakfasts, big ones for sandwiches, a pita for every day and way.
As much as I’ve enjoyed all my baking forays, there hasn’t been anything quite so exciting as watching my first pitas puff up and form their pockets.