Saragli - Greek individual baklava rolls
A lighter version of Greek baklavas - Σαραγλί
Published originally on my blog on 23 December 2010
Suppose you haven't seen your family for almost a year and just as you decide to book your airplane tickets to visit them for the Christmas holidays, something important comes up that requires you to stay put and now you have to wait till Easter to see them.
Suppose you have made plans to take a short trip to a romantic European city where Christmas is celebrated in a unique, beautiful manner and a couple of days before that trip you realize you're snowed in and you can't travel anywhere.
There are four possible reactions to these turn of events:
a) You moan and groan and bitch about it, being angry at the weather, at the circumstances and at life itself, until you run out of steam and you realize that you just have to deal with it and make the best you can with what you got, which is not bad at all if you really think about it.
b) You get depressed and moody, believing that there's always going to be a cloud over your head, feeling like a modern day Joe Btfsplk and that your life is doomed because your plans didn't turn out the way you wished, proceeding to ruin your holidays with your brooding and to make those around you feel deflated as well, only to realize a couple of days later, that you just have to deal with it and make the best you can with what you got, which is not bad at all if you really think about it.
c) You get angry and depressed, thinking that life's a bitch and that you probably deserve for some reason to be stuck here but, all this lasts for just fifteen minutes because you quickly realize that you just have to deal with it and make the best you can with what you got, which is not bad at all if you really think about it.
d) You say "eh" and you move on, in which case there's either something seriously wrong with you since these circumstances don't bother you at all or something seriously right with you and you need to teach me how to do that.
I'm gonna leave you guessing which one of these reactions I had when both of the aforementioned circumstances happened to me. What I'm going to tell you though is that in order to get over the fact that I'm stranded in Holland for the holidays, I had to make what I call "my Christmas blues remedy", otherwise known as my grandmother's small rolled baklavas; the ones she always makes during the holiday season.
I'm sure you have eaten a baklava before, right? Those of you who haven't, what are you waiting for? Baklava is a traditional Greek dessert categorized under the "Siropiasta" desserts—like Ravani—which are desserts that are drenched in syrup, and its ancient Greek predecessor, the "Gastrin" or "Koptoplakous", is mentioned in the literary work "Deipnosofists" by Athenaeus, in the 3rd century AD.
Traditionally, to make baklava, layers of phyllo dough are buttered and placed in a large baking tray. Chopped nuts like walnuts, hazelnuts or pistachios are spread over the phyllo sheets and then covered by more buttered layers of phyllo. My grandmother's baklava though is different. Hers are individual, small, rolled baklavas that have their own name in traditional Greek pastry making. They are called "Saragli". A single phyllo dough sheet is generously slathered with melted butter and a mix of coarsely chopped walnuts, ground cinnamon and sugar is placed along its short end. The sheet is rolled carefully and then gently pushed from both edges so the pastry gets all wrinkled and creased.
The saragli are placed in a baking tray which goes in the oven for about forty minutes, until the phyllo is crisp, puffed up and golden. The smell emanating from the oven is that of rich butter mixed with spicy cinnamon and you can hardly wait for them to come out. If you're S, you steal a piece the moment they come out of the oven, completely disregarding their need to get doused with syrup.
The lemon and cinnamon syrup is prepared and poured over the saragli and then all you have to do is wait, again. Wait until all the syrup is absorbed by the thirsty baked phyllo, until it is filled with the sweet essence of sugar and cinnamon, until the bottom of this magnificent dessert is moist and honeyed and the top is still crunchy and crisp. Thank you grandma—this is for you.
