Author: Angel Littlejohn

Since it’s the Christmas Season now, ’tis the season for baklava in this house. Yes, I know, I know. That is so un-Cajun, it’s not even funny. But ya can’t argue with the taste. Fa real. My family swears I put crack in this shit. I’m not even joking. When it’s homemade, the store-bought stuff at Sam’s doesn’t even compare. It’s labor-intensive, so there’s a lot of love and sometimes a lot of cussing going into this dessert. I have had several (well, more than several) people ask me to show them how to make it. I’ll start with this blog entry and if anybody needs an in-person class at my house, that can be arranged!

There are two ingredients in this stuff that you can’t just pick up at Walmart. Phyllo dough and mazaher (which is orange blossom water in English.) The phyllo dough is easy enough to find at Albertson’s, and most likely at Cedar Deli and Grocery on Jefferson in Lafayette.  You may also find the orange blossom water at Cedar Deli. If not, there’s always Amazon. Do not pay more than 8 or 9 bucks a bottle. Anything over than that is highway robbery.  This ingredient is the key to making your syrup aromatic and have that something-you-can’t-put-your-finger-on-but-damn-it’s-good thingy. Another thing I use mazaher for is cakes. A tablespoon or two even in boxed cake mixes makes all the difference in the world!

A word on phyllo dough: It’s a bitch to work with. It’s delicate and dries out incredibly fast.  Like, you need to go pee, have a smoke, eat lunch, whatever, before you even open the package. So don’t open it until you’re ready to work with it! If you MUST leave it for more than ten minutes or so, for God’s sake, cover it with a damp cloth or damp paper towels!

Here’s the list of ingredients for the pastry you’ll need (I’ll do the ingredients for the syrup afterward so as not to confuse you):

1 lb. of phyllo dough (usually the boxes are 1 lb.)

3 or 4 sticks of butter (I said butter. Don’t get me started on margarine and oleo. Don’t you dare use that shit.)

About 4 cups of finely diced walnuts

1 tsp. cinnamon

1/3 cup of white sugar

butter-flavored cooking spray

Sheet pan (not a cookie sheet–it should have at least a 3/4″ lip on it)

Dump the walnuts into a Tupperware container and coat them lightly with the cooking spray. This helps the cinnamon and sugar stick to them. Shake in 1 tsp. of cinnamon and 1/3 cup white sugar. Close the container and shake it baby, shake it! Set it aside. You can always pick it up later if you need to shake your booty.  Melt two sticks of butter in the microwave (and again, I said butter. It doesn’t have to be Kerrygold, as long as it’s butter and NOT margarine, oleo or any of the near-plastic oil/water emulsifications on the market. And please don’t even try the “healthy” spreads. This is baklava, not vegan pizza. Stop that nonsense.) Using a pastry brush (I have a very wide one that I can cover my pan with in three swipes–saves on labor and time), coat the entire sheet pan with butter. If you even think you need to pee, go do it now. Not kidding.  NOW you can open the phyllo dough package and unroll the sheets. The package usually tells you how many sheets are in it. You’re going to layer half of those sheets at the bottom, completely brushing each sheet with butter. Every. Single. One. And don’t be stingy with the butter. If the sheet is a little wider than the pan, drape it over the side, brush the sheet with butter, and fold the edge over so it fits in the pan (and don’t forget to brush it with butter.) Alternate the draped sides so that the baklava stays relatively even. After you’ve layered half of the sheets, spread your walnut/sugar/cinnamon mix over the entire pan. Then start on the second half of the sheets. At this point, you may have to microwave another stick of butter. To make that first sheet easier, instead of brushing it with butter and risk tearing the bejeezus out of it, just spray it with butter-flavored cooking spray. I’m not kidding. You’ll find when you add subsequent sheets, it gets easier. Once every sheet is layered in buttery goodness, you’re going to preheat your oven to about 375 degrees. Maybe 350. This is not an exact science–it’s an art! Cut the baklava before you bake it. Personally, I cut 20 rectangles in the sheet pan and then cut all those rectangles from corner to corner to form two triangles per rectangle. Make sure you cut all the way to the bottom. You may have to hold the top layers in place because it’ll shift sometimes. Make sure you use a non-serated knife, such as a santoku or chef’s knife. Serations will catch the sheets at the bottom and you’ll have a shredded mess on your hands.  Cover the whole thing with foil and slide it into your preheated oven.

While the baklava is baking, start making the syrup. These are the ingredients to make the syrup:

1 cup water

1 cup white sugar

1/2 cup honey

2 tablespoons mazaher/orange blossom water

1 teaspoon lemon juice (optional–personally I omit it)

Mix water, sugar and honey in a sauce pan on medium heat until it comes to a gentle, very low boil. Stir it constantly. More like a vigorous simmer. Continue for about 15 to 20 minutes until the liquid starts to coat your spoon. This stirring releases some of the water and reduces the liquid to a slight syrup. Remove from heat and add 2 tablespoons of mazaher (and lemon juice if you’re so inclined). Let the syrup cool until the baklava is done.

Check on your baklava at about 30 minutes. If the edges are starting to brown but the middle is not, it’s time to take off the foil so it can all brown. You have to watch it carefully because the bottom layers will brown quickly and burn if you’re not observant. Add another 10 to 20 minutes, watching the baklava to make sure it isn’t burning to a crisp. When it’s nice and golden brown on top, it’s ready! Pull the pan out of the oven and spoon the syrup evenly over the hot baklava. It’ll sizzle and maybe rise a little bit. What’s happening is that the syrup is cooling the baklava and forcing it to soak up the syrup. Let the pan cool. For serving, I use paper baking cups. I flatten one, place a triangle piece of baklava on it, and fold the edges along the triangle edges.  Enjoy!

I have been told that leftover baklava freezes very well. I’m confused. What the hell is leftover baklava???

With every gumbo I make comes the obligatory potato salad. Some people eat it on the side. Some people spoon it right into the gumbo. This particular recipe/technique comes from my Aunt Goldie. I say “recipe/technique” because just saying “recipe” implies that there are measurements and precision. Ain’t nothin’ precise about Aunt Goldie’s potato salad.

A note about the potatoes: use only red potatoes–the freshest you can find (and that’s usually at Joyce’s in St. Martinville.) Russet potatoes are too mushy and are more suited for baked potatoes. Red potatoes are sturdy and hold their shape and when they’re chunked after boiling. You can use the peeling or not–everybody’s got their own taste. This post will refer to a “5-pound” potato salad meaning I use five pounds of red potatoes.  Use a dozen eggs for every five pounds of potatoes you get.  And don’t be stingy–get those big ol’ jumbo eggs. While I know fresh yard eggs are delicious—we used to have chickens so I know–they are a bitch to peel after they’re hard boiled since not enough time has passed to allow an air pocket to form inside the shell. If you buy the eggs at the local grocery store, you should be good to go. If you have only fresh eggs, you lucky bastard, then you should probably wait about a week or so to use them for potato salad, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Peel the potatoes, if so desired, and try to cut them all to the same size. The easy way to do this is to just pile all the raw potatoes in a pot and pick the smallest one, then cut the rest to that size so that they all cook at the same rate. Boil the whole dozen eggs in a separate pot. Be sure and salt the water you boil the potatoes in, otherwise the potato salad will be bland (even after adding seasoning.) There’s a reason why high blood pressure is prevalent down here–we are saltaholics. Now, I’m not going to tell you to boil the potatoes for X amount of minutes. Just keep checking them every so often and when you can easily pass a fork all the way through a large piece, then you should be good.

Drain the potatoes and place in a bowl–preferably something non-metallic. Aluminum and the starch in the potatoes don’t play well together. Using a steak knife, chunk the potatoes to the consistency desired. If you prefer a mushy potato salad, ain’t no judgin’ going on here–just mash them, ya heathen! Peel the eggs (do I really have to say that? Yes. Yes I do.) Add them to the potatoes and cut them up with the steak knife as well. Why a steak knife? Because prep knives are liable to slice into the plastic of your bowl. Steak knives have just enough of an edge without ending up with shards of plastic in your potato salad.

Next (and this is VERY important) let the potato/egg mixture cool off a bit. If you start mixing mayonnaise with hot potatoes and eggs, the mayo will separate and it will make the potato salad greasy, and ain’t nothing worse than greasy potato salad. Well, there is, but we won’t get into that. Another note: use only Blue Plate mayo. If you simply MUST use that Yankee Kraft shit, then go ahead, but there’s something about Blue Plate’s taste. Hellmann’s is a close second but I find it separates too easily. Besides, Blue Plate is a Reily Foods product–a company based out of New Orleans. If you can’t support local Louisiana companies, what the hell are you doing reading my blog? Mix in as much mayo as you want to the consistency you want.

Now for the seasoning. Garlic powder, onion powder and cayenne pepper to taste. That’s it. No pickles. No olives. Don’t you dare….put that damn vinegar back in the cabinet–that’s a travesty.  And this goes without saying…..for the love of God please don’t leave the potato salad out too long. Unless you’re feeding a sample to your husband to judge the amount of seasoning, put the damn bowl in the fridge. And cover it tightly. Nobody likes dried-out crusty potato salad. Or maybe there’s a freak or two out there who does, but none of them live in this house.