One hand in my pocket-bread

It's a slippery slope, this whole cooking from scratch thing.  One day you're in a restaurant when your spouse turns and declares that your own version is better, or that you could make it better, cheaper, healthier at home. 

You order a $6 grilled cuban sandwich at the hoity-toity grocery store only to discover that it's dry, boring, and nowhere near as tasty as the ones you've made at home.

You bake your own bread and the store-stuff starts tasting bland and boring.  You skim the paragraph of unpronounceable ingredients on the packaging, mentally comparing it to the 5-6 items it takes to make nearly any kind of bread, and decide that it really it worthwhile to make your own.

Then you make your own pizza, including the crust.  Every pizza you create is tasty, fresh, loaded with your favorite ingredients.  Sometimes you make pizza just to use up what's left in the fridge.  And it is good. 

Maybe it happens on a rainy Sunday.  You look at your bank account, consider the oh-so-distant payday, and decide that the $4 package of pita bread is an unnecessary splurge for the shakshuka, in and of itself a splurge with all its feta and peppers.

But then you remember that pita bread is just a simple flat bread that people have eaten for centuries.  None of those people had Safeway with pita bread sold in plastic bags.  You think to yourself, "pita bread can't be that hard, can it?"  You flick on the computer and search for pita bread recipes.  Your suspicions are confirmed: pita bread is very, very easy.

You, my friend, have gone to the fringe.

Welcome to the dark side of the oven.

Homemade pita bread