Farm Kitchen Spanakopita
I do not like cooked spinach-fresh is fine, good even. But cook it and it becomes a mushy pile of green goo. Unless of course you cook it in a bit of olive oil along with more than a bit of garlic, stir in some freshly crumbled feta cheese and stuff it in layers of buttered pastry. Then, it’s delicious.
It is a bit cumbersome, but trust me, it’s the only right and proper way to eat cooked spinach. Unless you like your mush. If so, I leave you to it.
To begin five cloves of garlic (I did warn there’d be a lot) are minced and added to a large skillet with three tablespoons good extra virgin olive oil. They’re cooked on low a bit, just until garlic can be smelled all the house over. (Please, whatever you do, don’t burn it. And trust me, that happens quicker than you’d think. Turn your back a second, and you’ve got five cloves of sizzling bits of rancid on your hands.) Six cups fresh baby spinach is then added to the pan, which explains why the big skillet was needed. It’s tossed in lightly with a large wooden spoon and stirred continually. In no time at all that big pile will be reduced down to that mush I spoke about earlier. But don’t worry—the garlic and olive oil have done their good work—all will be right in the end. A good pinch of salt is stirred in and one of pepper, along with a smaller pinch of crushed red pepper flakes. This is set aside until it’s cool. When it is, a block of fresh feta is crumbled and a quarter cup is stirred in with the spinach. This is all that is needed for the filling. It is placed in the fridge for an hour or more, so those flavors can get to know each other a bit.
Once they’re ready, the filo dough is prepared. And by prepared, I mean a sheet of wax paper is set out with a damp towel over all, ready to cover the dough the moment the box is opened. Why? You thought I was making fresh filo dough? Even a Farmer’s Wife has limits and that’s mine. Many a dough is scratch-made on the farm; from pie to cookie to bread. But filo dough? Never. Not so long as there is a box to be found in the grocer’s freezer. When that stops happening, then maybe. Or, more than likely, the lovely filling will find its way onto a pizza or in a pie and I will call it a good day.
But for now, seeing as the grocer’s freezer is still well stocked with filo dough, it shall continue to be made the traditional way. And how it’s done is this:
One tube of dough is removed from the box (the box usually contains two) and set on the counter to defrost. What you do with the other tube is up to you. But might I suggest making Baklava? That recipe is here somewhere; I encourage you to try it.
Once the dough is thawed, it’s removed from its plastic sleeve and unrolled and quickly covered with the waiting wax paper and damp towel. It’s let to sit there a bit while the butter is melted (a half cup) and a pastry brush and chef’s knife are set beside all. The pastry brush is placed in the butter and as for the knife, that’s used to cut the filo dough into four equal strips, width wise (by that I mean the wide end, you want long skinny strips here, not short fat ones). The dough is immediately covered again, but not before one of the strips is removed and set on the counter. The strip is lightly brushed with butter and another strip is laid on top and treated the same. A teaspoon of the filling is placed on one end, at the bottom corner. The top corner is tucked over, making a small, unsealed triangle. This is flipped on itself, now making it sealed. The process is repeated back and forth down the strip until a well-formed triangle is made. There will be a small piece of dough left at the end. This is tucked in the crease, sealing that goodness in for all eternity. (If you’re reading this and have no idea what I’m describing, watch a video on honor guard flag folding and you’ll see just what I mean.) This process is repeated until all the strips are gone, or the filling runs out, whichever happens first. If it happens to be the filling that goes, a great use for any leftover filo dough is to let it dry out and crumble it—it makes great panko breadcrumbs. If it’s the dough, might I suggest a spoon and a glass of wine? The triangles are arranged on a parchment lined baking tray and baked in a preheated three-hundred-and-fifty-degree oven for fifteen to twenty minutes or until golden brown and sizzling. They are served hot but are just as good room temperature alongside a nice Greek salad. Enjoy!
