I’m a big fan of spinach. I’m like Popeye, with coffee.
When Carolyn mentioned spanakopita last week, I thought it would be a brilliant idea to make spanakopita. We traveled to Hy-Vee and purchased spinach, cheese, cheese, and cheese. And (what soon would become the enemy) phyllo pastry dough.
I’m convinced phyllo isn’t actually dough — it’s an innuendo of dough. It’s like the puny, 1/2-ply toilet paper found only in public restrooms.
It didn’t want to cooperate with our spanakopita efforts. It wanted to disintegrate. However, we soon discovered the transparent sheets of dough would stick together with enough butter. This seemed like a good idea at first — coat each sheet of phyllo with a nice layer of butter. And, with enough butter, we were able to create little dough pockets of spinach (and cheese, cheese, and cheese).
Aren’t they cute? Ok…some of them weren’t that cute.
Some of them had tails.
By the time we managed to create little spanakopitas and cook them, we were starving. So, we feasted.
Then, we realized we were ingesting all the butter used to hold the little dough pockets together. We realized this when our culinary creations began peeing butter. All over us. Paula Deen is my favorite cook on the Food Network, but there are limits to the amount of butter one person can consume. We reached that level. The good news is our hair probably got a little shinier. The bad news is we felt sick.
Overall, the spanakopita adventure was probably a bust. But, spanakopita is a really fun word to say. Spanakopita. Spanakopita. Spanakopita!
And, when an entre doesn’t work out…there’s always wine. The wine was excellent.