Artistry in the Kitchen: Working with Phyllo

I came across this sign I made using Print Shop a while back and was reminded of the cooking class I gave at our local culinary art club. I called the class "No Fear of Phyllo"; and it was very well-received.

In fact, several of the first-class cooks attending sought me out later to tell me they had always been daunted by phyllo and had either been afraid to try it or quite unsuccessful in their attempts.

They went on to follow my "No Fear of Phyllo" secrets and now love cooking with these delicate lighter-than-air leaves of pastry.

I look at working with phyllo leaves as just another form of crafting. The first thing I instructed the group – after marching through the audience with my "No Fear of Phyllo" sign – was to forget all the cautions they had heard about using phyllo dough.

Forget the damp towel to cover (and uncover and cover and uncover ...) the dough as you work. Forget working as fast as you can, which only makes you a nervous wreck and results in lots of torn ugly bits of phyllo floating around your kitchen.

Relax!

Here are my secrets for working with phyllo leaves.

[Oh, I should interject this health disclaimer. Most foods made with phyllo should be consumed in moderation. Please indulge responsibly.]

1. Butter, butter, butter – until I work all the kinks out of a phyllo recipe, I assume it needs twice the amount of melted butter called for.

2. Forget the pastry brush – drizzle butter over the leaves and with (scrupulously-sanitized) fingers, spread the butter over the surface.

3. Do not work with one sheet at a time (too thin, too time-consuming). Rather use two sheets at a time. Much less tearing, much easier to handle. My theory is that if you slather butter on a double layer of leaves and then layer another double layer, every layer is well-coated with butter.

Please come back tomorrow for my prize winning recipe for Greek Cheese Pie in Phyllo Crust.