{ Do you not even care about my rambling? No need for tips? Totally cool! SKIP STRAIGHT TO THE RECIPE. }
Or is it fillo? Maybe phyllo. Filo? Maybe fyllo? Whatever. You know what I'm talking about – that flaky pastry you use when you want to add more butter to your diet. The other night I needed to make some appetizers and I didn't want to go to the store, so I pillaged the freezer. And the pantry and the fridge. I found mushrooms, cheese, some shallots and stuff, and a frozen box of filo dough. I couldn't remember why I had bought it because I hate things that are difficult, including phyllo, which is even difficult to spell. (One day, when I write an actual book, I'll pick a spelling, but until then, enjoy the variety!)
Anyhow, phylo isn't as difficult as you think. Here are a few tips:
Make sure the dough is completely thawed to room temperature before you lift a sheet to work with it.
Keep it covered with a wet towel at all times, but don't let the towel touch the dough.
Use as little oil or butter as possible to brush the pastry so it doesn't get too greasy.
Work carefully, but as quickly as possible so the dough doesn't dry out.
My Group Text is Better than Yours
Lucky for me, the audience for my first try was a forgiving one. They were hungry, charming, and really just there for the company. You see, I've been part of a group text for more than two years now. We are a group of women who (mostly) share the same political beliefs (with just enough disagreement to keep it interesting), enjoy many of the same foods (and cocktails), have questions and advice to spare, and never mind hearing about a bad day, a good dessert, or an intolerable co-worker. And it's all off the record. Anyhow, we live in three different states and finally had a chance to all be in the same room. It was exciting! The phyllo triangles were darn good, if a little too buttery. We also had baked brie with homemade (not by me) fig and lemon jam, some chips, a little fruit, and plenty of pimiento cheese. A good time was had by all and we stayed up too late. But I digress.
Mise en Place Makes Everything Easier
Mise en place is key when you're making individual pastries. Keep everything within reach and have a system. When I make phyllo triangles, I like to lay she sheets by the stove, and I keep my pot of butter and pastry brush nearby. If the butter starts to thicken, it goes back on the stove for a few seconds. I use a pizza slicer to cut the dough because it's quick and precise. The dough itself, happily waiting under a paper towel, goes at the top right, and my filling of choice is at the bottom right. You can come up with your own system, but make sure you have one. We are not here to play.
You can't go wrong with mushrooms sautéed in butter with shallots and thyme to stuff your fillo, unless you hate mushrooms. In that case, use something else. Obviously.
I used goat cheese for this round of phyllo triangles. I preferred the ones I made before with gruyère, so just pick your favorite cheese.
#ScrapCooking
You'll often end up with a few extra strips of phyllo when you make triangles. Don't you dare throw them away! Stuff them with something, anything. The other night, my youngest kid put prosciutto and muenster cheese in the last two and it was delightful.
Not every attempt at scrap cooking – using random bits and pieces to make something new – is a success. I had two strips of fillo left and went to the fridge for ingredients. I found smoked sprats (because my kids get smoked fish in their stockings because I like smoked fish), pimientos (because I always have them for pimiento cheese), and shredded parmesan. The results tasted good (to me), but they weren't pretty.
Anyhow, who wants to make some delicious snacks that can actually be eaten for dinner? Let's go!
Mushroom Filo Triangles
◔ Makes 16 to 20 triangles
⧖ Not gonna lie. This will take some time.
4 tablespoons butter, plus another 4 tablespoons (or more) for brushing
1 pound mushrooms, any kind, sliced
1-2 shallots, chopped
1-2 cloves garlic, minced
½ teaspoon herbal salt, like Seasonello
¼ teaspoon white pepper
½ teaspoon dried chili flakes (optional)
1 tablespoon fresh thyme, or 1 teaspoon dried
¼ cup vermouth
¾ cup grated gruyère or 4 ounces goat cheese or really any other kind of cheese you like
6-8 sheets filo dough
Thaw filo pastry to room temperature.
Melt 4 tablespoons butter in a pan and add shallots and garlic. Sauté until soft and fragrant, 4-5 minutes. Add sliced mushrooms, salt, pepper, chili flaks, and thyme.
When the mushrooms have absorbed all the butter, add vermouth. Continue to cook mushrooms until liquid is absorbed, about 10 minutes. Transfer mixture to a bowl to cool.
While the mushroom mixture cools, set your mise en place, with an open space for folding the triangles, a pizza cutter, a pot of melted butter and a pastry brush, the phyllo sheets covered in both plastic and a wet towel, and a bowl for your filling.
When the mushrooms are cooled to room temperature, pulse the mixture in a food processor until crumbly. Put mixture in a bowl and fold in the cheese.
Melt butter in a pan on the stove and remove from heat. Take out a sheet of filo. Brush pastry with melted butter using a pastry brush.
Cut the buttered sheet into 3 or 4 strips. Filo pastry comes in various sizes, so keep that in mind when you slice it. Each strip should be in the neighborhood of 3-inches wide.
Place a tablespoon of filling at the end of each strip. Fold one corner over the filling to form a triangle. Keep folding until you reach the end. When you've finished a sheet, slice off any remaining pastry and place each triangle on a baking sheet, with the last folded side down so it won't curl up when you cook.
Before cooking, brush the top of each triangle with a little more butter. Bake at 400°F for 15 to 20 minutes, until triangles are browned and crispy.
Notes:
Oil, usually olive oil, can be substituted for butter.
If you don't have herbal salt, use plain salt, reducing the amount by half, and add a teaspoon of Italian seasoning.
Use as little butter or oil as possible, as too much will make your triangles messy and greasy.
Wrap unused filo pastry in plastic, then in a wet paper towel, and keep in the fridge in a zippered bag or sealed container. Use within a week or so.
White wine can be substituted for the dry vermouth, but this is a nice way to use up vermouth because no one drinks that many martinis. Vermouth should be good in the refrigerator for several months.
If you somehow run out of butter, first ask yourself why you don't always have back-up butter. Then substitute oil to brush the rest of the pastry.
As for the rest of the filo, stay tuned and I'll tell you how to make it into a casserole, most likely using scraps you have on hand. Speaking of scraps, I really want to hear more about how you use up the bits and pieces you find in the fridge, pantry, and freezer. Can you post them? And maybe tag them with #scrapcooking? I mean, or not. But learning how to waste less food seems like a darn fine use of social media to me.
A Little News
So, I left my job in December to write full-time. But then I took a part-time position because I got an offer that was too exciting to refuse, doing work I love and working with some people I really admire. And it's only part-time! So hooray. But I'm also writing a couple of regular columns, including an advice column for Free Times called Grain of Salt, covering a range of topics from racist dogs and etiquette to kinky sex and Mad Dog. (As you might guess, I'm also learning a few things from the letter writers.) The other column, Perfectly Capable, can be found in Columbia Living, Charleston Living, and Wilmington Magazine. That one's just me writing about easier (and slacker) ways to do things well (enough). So if you want to host a last-minute dinner party or finally start exercising, enjoy!
So how are you? And what's for lunch? I'm polishing off the end of a batch of miso. I added chicken and rapini to make it a meal.