Baking Honey and Walnut Baklava at Home
Why Baklava Is Worth Making at Home
Walk through almost any Greek town in late summer and you will smell it before you see it: butter, toasted walnut and warm honey drifting out of a bakery door. Baklava is the grandest of the Greek sweets, and it turns up at name days, Easter tables, weddings and village festivals, cut into small diamonds and handed round with tiny cups of coffee. Shop-bought versions are often cloying and soggy. Made at home, with good nuts and a properly timed syrup, it is something else entirely — crisp at the edges, fragrant in the middle, and better on the second day than the first.
The good news is that it is not difficult. It is fiddly, repetitive and demands a little patience, but there is no yeast, no proving and no tricky pastry to master. If you can brush butter and count to eight, you can make baklava.
Nuts, Spice and the Greek Way With Syrup
Walnuts are the classic Greek choice, though almonds, pistachios and hazelnuts all have their regional loyalties — pistachios in the east, almonds in Crete. Walnuts are still the best starting point because their slight bitterness balances the syrup. Buy halves rather than ready-chopped pieces if you can, and check they smell sweet rather than dusty. Toast them lightly in a dry pan, cool them completely, then chop by hand or pulse briefly in a food processor. You want a coarse, rubbly texture, not a powder — powder turns to paste and gives you a heavy filling.
For roughly a 30cm by 20cm tin you will need:
- About 20–24 sheets of filo pastry, around 500g, thawed overnight in the fridge if frozen
- 250g walnuts, toasted and coarsely chopped
- 225g unsalted butter, melted and clarified if you have the patience
- 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon and a small pinch of ground clove
- 2 tablespoons caster sugar and a pinch of fine salt for the filling
Flavour the nuts with the cinnamon, clove, sugar and salt. Keep it restrained. Greek bakers use spice as a perfume, not a statement.
Handling Filo Without Tears
Filo dries out faster than you would believe. Lay your sheets flat, cover them with a clean tea towel and then a slightly damp one on top of that. Work quickly and only ever take out the sheet you are about to use.
Melted butter is your glue, your waterproofing and your crispness all at once. Brush it thinly and evenly with a pastry brush — every sheet, right to the corners. Pools of butter make greasy patches; missed patches make pale, tough ones. Clarified butter gives the cleanest result because the milk solids are what burn, but ordinary melted butter works perfectly well if you keep the oven temperature modest.
Build in three stages: eight buttered sheets in the base, then a third of the nut mixture, then six sheets, another third of nuts, six more sheets, the last of the nuts, and finally eight sheets on top. Press each nut layer down gently with the back of a spoon so the pastry sits level. The top layer should be neat and generously buttered.
Cut Before You Bake
This is the step most people skip and most people regret. Cut the baklava into diamonds while it is still raw, using a very sharp, thin knife. Cut straight down through all the layers to the base of the tin rather than sawing sideways, which drags the filo out of line. Wipe the blade between cuts. Cut parallel lines about 4cm apart, then cut diagonally across them.
Bake at 180°C (160°C fan, gas mark 4) for 45–50 minutes, until the pastry is a deep, even gold and the edges look almost lacquered. If it is browning unevenly, rotate the tin halfway through. Pale baklava will taste of raw pastry no matter how good your syrup is, so be brave.
The Temperature Rule That Keeps It Crisp
Make the syrup while the baklava bakes. Warm 300g caster sugar, 200g runny honey, 250ml water, a strip of lemon peel and a cinnamon stick in a pan, stirring until the sugar dissolves. Simmer for 10–12 minutes without stirring, then add a tablespoon of lemon juice and take it off the heat. Let it cool to room temperature.
Now the important part: hot pastry, cool syrup. Ladle the cooled syrup slowly over the baklava the moment it comes out of the oven. You will hear it hiss and crackle as it soaks in. If both are hot, the pastry steams and goes soft; if both are cold, the syrup sits on top and never penetrates. Leave it undisturbed for at least six hours, ideally overnight, loosely covered. It will firm up and the flavour will settle.
Serving, Storing and Greek Hospitality
Baklava is rich, so cut small. Two diamonds per person is generous; one with a spoonful of thick yoghurt or a little clotted cream is lovely. In Greece it is served with strong coffee or a small glass of cold water, which is exactly the hospitality you want to copy: something sweet, something bitter, something cold, all at once.
Keep it in an airtight tin at room temperature — never the fridge, which ruins the texture. Biscuit tins with a bit of baking parchment between layers work beautifully, and it will keep for a fortnight. It genuinely improves after a day or two in the tin, as the syrup redistributes and the walnuts soften slightly. Make it on a Saturday for a Sunday lunch, and you will understand why Greek home cooks never seem in a hurry about it.













Meze Dishes
Karla Gleichauf
12 May 2017 at 05:28 pm
On the other hand, we denounce with righteous indignation and dislike men who are so beguiled and demoralized by the charms of pleasure of the moment
M Shyamalan
12 May 2017 at 05:28 pm
On the other hand, we denounce with righteous indignation and dislike men who are so beguiled and demoralized by the charms of pleasure of the moment
Liz Montano
12 May 2017 at 05:28 pm
On the other hand, we denounce with righteous indignation and dislike men who are so beguiled and demoralized by the charms of pleasure of the moment