September 8th
I grew up cooking tortillas on an antique cast iron stove plate (like the ones on this guy). One day, before Ally and I were dating, we were talking on the phone and she mentioned that she had just stuck her quesadilla in the microwave. I was dumbfounded. What an abomination of tortilla cooking, I thought.
My snobbery has since taken a back seat to the convenience of microwave ovens. I’ve been primarily microwaving my quesadillas now for probably around 6 years, but my parents, the original preachers of my former philosophy, found Ally and me a tortilla plate (I can’t remember where, but it was detached from its original stove-top during the acquisition). It shall now forever live on our back right burner (which is too small to cook anything of any real substance or significant size/portion anyway), calling to us to throw a tortilla on it. Go ahead, it says. Lay one on me.
Today, I abided.