My co-worker let me taste her lunch a week ago and it was delicious. She shared the recipe. I got the ingredients and started to assemble the dish tonight. It included Phyllo dough, which I have no experience with.
As I opened the package of dough I was struck with a moment of terror. I am a fairly confident cook, so this feeling of fear was unusual. And then I was suddenly swept back in time. I was in my childhood home. My mother (a good but unadventurous cook) was having an afternoon cocktail with some other woman, perhaps one of my aunts.I could hear the clink of ice on glass and smell the cigarrette smoke in the air. It was in the 1960's, and one of the women said, "Phyllo dough! It is the latest thing. Delicious but you have to be so careful with it. It must not dry out or it's disaster. You have to cover it with a wet towel while you work, imagine!" They discussed how difficult the process was. Apparently the conversation made quite an impression on me!
I plodded on with my cooking... layering dough with butter, spooning in a mix of seasoned vegetables, layering cheese, topping with more phyllo. And it wasn't all that tricky.
The end results were delicious! I had to laugh as I ate... for an unknown number of years I've been afraid of phyllo dough. All because of a conversation I overheard long ago. I wonder what else I have been avoiding because of some past experience?
1 comment:
Looks delicious!! Mmmmmm.....u sharing the recipe!!??!!
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