South Carolina writer Anne Wolfe Postic says there's no reason to fear working with phyllo dough.
About two years ago, my sister got married. Like all Southern weddings, hers was an absolute blast, with a great party band and lots of family and friends, but you probably guessed that. What you might not expect is that the wedding also resulted in the founding of a group text that’s gone on ever since. There are eight of us, from three different states, and not a day (or an hour) goes by without someone texting an opinion, a recipe, a complaint, a cute gif, or a response to any of the above. After looking away from my phone for a couple hours, I can come back to more than 100 texts. Luckily, one of us is usually ready to offer a quick summary when someone’s been away. “1. C’s co-worker T. is still a jerk. 2. E. had an excellent lunch. 3. F. (a cat) is flipping adorable. 4. A. (that would be me) is making chicken for supper.”
The group text can be funny, comforting, serious, informative, and warm, all in the same text and I sure am glad my sister got married and birthed this thread. Speaking of birthing, she’s about to do that. In fact, by the time you read this, I might be an aunt! She had her baby shower a few weeks ago and the entire text group came to town to celebrate. For the first time, we were all able to be in the same room. And it was a room in my house, so I got cooking.
I didn’t want to go to the store, because I never want to go to the store, especially if I’m wearing my stretchy pants, which I was. I found phyllo dough in the freezer and couldn’t remember why it was there. I had a vague recollection of trying unsuccessfully to do something with phyllo years ago, but figured I might as well try again. The women in my group text would understand if I failed, and we could just order pizza. But I didn’t fail! The resulting mushroom phyllo triangles were delicious and we ate them all. The phyllo experiment went so well that I’ve been using the dough ever since, for various turnovers and even casseroles. Phyllo is kind of my new jam. (Speaking of jam, another one of the women had brought some fig and lemon jam, which we used along with pecans and a sheet of refrigerated dough to make baked brie.)
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I’ll never be intimidated by phyllo again, and I hope you won’t either. Want my tips and the mushroom triangle recipe? I'm sharing them!
Anne Wolfe Postic is a freelance writer living in South Carolina with her husband, their three sons, and a fluffy white dog. She travels with relish (and often a jar of Duke’s mayonnaise). She cooks her feelings and invites people over to eat them. Anne writes and blogs about parenting, etiquette, healthy eating, home cooking, and traveling. She recommends taking all of her advice with a huge chunk of salt.