Because nobody else is going to save you any, that's for sure. It's just too sweet and buttery. Tender on the inside and crispy around the edges like a croissant, it has a crackly caramel top that adds just the right je-ne-sais-quois (I wrote that in French because don't know how to say it in Breton).

I'll admit that this "simple butter cake" kicked my can this week. I went into it thinking I'd be able to do it blindfolded, since I consider lamination something of a specialty. Five days, two sacks of flour and $40 worth of butter later, my pride was in the ash can, along with sixteen awful kouigns. Say what you will about the recipe I finally settled on, it's been tested!

Earlier in the week I wrote that I'd be leaving the sugar out of the folding process. However rolled-in sugar is one of the defining features of this bread. In the end I couldn't leave it out. The kouign amann that resulted didn't rise as high as the version without the rolled-in sugar, but the result is probably a lot closer to the real thing. Here's how it goes. Combine your flour and yeast in a mixer fitted with a paddle and add the melted butter...

...and the water.

Stir until everything is moistened, then switch to the dough hook and knead for about a minute. The dough will be a bit shaggy, that's OK. If it's very shaggy and won't hold together at all, add a bit more water. It will smooth out and become more elastic as it rises.

Press it together into a ball, put it into a large bowl and apply some oil or nonstick spray. Since this dough has lots of yeast and no salt, it's going to take off like a rocket. Half an hour should be plenty of time for rising.

When the dough has about ten minutes to go, make your butter block according to the directions for laminating dough under the Techniques menu. Pastry Chef Laura suggested that working a couple tablespoons of flour would help absorb moisture and make the resulting pastry flakier. Why didn't I think of that? Add it.

When the dough has risen and is nice and puffy, you're ready to roll. Literally.

Lightly flour your board...

...and pat the dough into a square.

Apply your butter. My block isn't perfect, but by this time I'd made kouign amann nine times. I was frustrated. Anyway, this is a rustic pastry, right? Oh, and I should mention that you want the best quality salted butter you can lay your hands on for this. As with every laminated dough, butter is the star, so don't skimp if you can help it. Euro-style cultured butters will not only taste better for this, they'll be drier, and that will give you a better result.

Make your butter envelope...

...roll it out...

...and letter fold it.

Lay it out on a lightly floured sheet pan (I forgot the flour here), cover it with plastic wrap and refrigerate it for 20 minutes. This is the first of your three "turns."

After twenty minutes, do another "turn", which is to say, repeat the rolling and letter fold and return the dough to the refrigerator for another twenty minutes. The dough will hold at this point, if you wish, for 2-3 days in the refrigerator and 2-3 months in the freezer, cut into pieces of course. If you don't want this much dough you can cut the below recipe in half, even half again if you only want to make one pastry.

When you're ready to make your pastries, do your final turn. This time you're going to add sugar to the top of the dough before you fold it. Here I'm adding too much. What can I say, I got excited. I brushed about a third of it off.

But Joe, you said sugar is a no-no for laminated doughs! Yes, and it is if you allow the butter and sugar to come into direct contact. However if there's a layer of dough in between, you don't get the same reaction, provided you don't allow the sugared dough to sit for very long (as in several hours).

Fold the dough and put it back into the fridge.

Prepare your pan. Line a cake layer pan with parchment.

When you're all set to roll, take the dough back out of the refrigerator and cut it into pieces (there's enough dough here for four pastries, just under 16 ounces each). Turn one piece out onto your floured board and apply the pin.

Roll it to a rough circle and place it in the pan. Let it rise for about 1 1/2 hours until puffy. Meanwhile, preheat your oven to 400.

At that point, apply your egg wash...

...and a generous amount of sugar. This is necessary to create crunchy caramel top.

Bake until the bread has risen nicely and the top is a deep brown. Say, that's not a particularly appealing picture.

Oh yeah, that's what I'm talkin' bout.

Eat it warm. With wine or spirits it's especially good, and trust me, I needed that after the week I had.

UPDATE: Reader Evan D. adds:

I wanted to mention that Kouign Amman can be made from scrap croissant dough, and that this is how a lot of bakeries do it. An extra turn or two with superfine granulated sugar is all it takes. A little jam in the center really ties it all together.

For all those who've put off getting their hands dirty with laminated doughs, kouign amann is a great place to start. Somewhere between a bread and a Danish, it only requires a couple of "turns" of the dough, and they need not be perfect. This is a rustic pastry, so your standards need not be terribly high. As I've said before in regard to laminated dough, you shouldn't let fear of failure stop you, because with this much butter there is no failing, only degrees of winning.

This recipe is rather large, enough for four larger 9" pastries, or up to twenty individual, Danish-like versions. Why the extra quantity? I've always felt that if I'm going to go to the trouble of laminating, I might as well make enough to freeze for some other occasion. I've also always been of the opinion that a larger quantity is easier to work with. You'll need:

1 lb. 12 ounces all-purpose flour
1 ounce melted butter
14 ounces water
1 tablespoon, two teaspoons instant yeast
1 lb. lightly salted butter
egg wash (2 beaten eggs plus two teapoons water)
1 cup granulated sugar for topping

Combine the flour, melted butter, water and yeast in the bowl of a mixer fitted with a paddle. Stir until all ingredients are moistened and switch to the dough hook. Knead for 1-2 minutes, until a dough forms. Transfer the dough to a large bowl, apply cooking spray or a small amount of oil, cover with plastic wrap, and allow it to sit for 1/2 an hour, until about doubled.

About ten minutes before the dough is ready, make your butter block according to the instructions on laminating dough under the Techniques menu. Make your dough packet, roll it out and give it two turns, resting the dough for 20 minutes in the refrigerator after each turn, covered with plastic wrap. The dough will rest happily in your refrigerator for 2-3 days days at this point, or it can be frozen for three months.

When ready to make your pastries do a final turn, this time sprinkling sugar over the dough before you fold it. Cut the dough into four pieces (just under 16 ounces each) and roll them out to 8" to 9" circles. (alternately, you can roll the dough out flat, cut it into small square and shape the squares as you would cheese Danishes). Place the circles into parchment-lined pans, cover with plastic wrap and let them rise for 1 to 1 1/2 hours, until puffy.

While the kouigns are proofing, preheat your oven to 400. When they're fully proofed, paint them with egg wash, sprinkle them liberally with sugar and bake for 20-25 minutes until browned. Serve warm.

Though a charlotte is a great choice any time of year, it's especially good in the hot summer months. For one, it's a no-bake dessert. For two, it's light and airy yet still rich and creamy, and can be adapted to just about any summer fruit. Here I've added on some sliced poached white peach, but that's just one of any number of possibilities. Begin the process a minimum of six hours ahead of serving, a day or two ahead is ideal. To prepare the mold — and I'm using a classic slope-sided mold — get yourself a two-foot long sheet of aluminum foil.

Fold it in half.

Insert it into the mold along the sides. It won't be a perfect fit...

...you'll need to tear the edges so you can fold the foil down over the lip.

Press the foil as flat as you can.

For the bottom you can use a cut circle from a pre-made waxed cake circle. If you don't have that, a piece of cardboard and a piece of wax paper work great.

Now to lay in the ladyfingers. You can see I've piped these a little longer and narrower than my last batch, this is because the sides of a classic charlotte mold are about 4" high. If you were using a different mold, say a springform pan or a cake ring, standard-sized ladyfingers are all you need. Work with them frozen if you can, they're a little easier to handle.

Trim up the edges for neatness.

Drop one ladyfinger in the mold for size.

Trim off any excess.

Then use the trimmed one as a guide for the others.

Lay them into the mold, overlapping slightly so the filling doesn't leak out the sides.

Hmm...I seem to have a few corners still poking up there, better trim them down to the level of the bavarian cream so they won't throw off the balance of the finished charlotte. Now where did I put my shears?

Ah yes, there they are.

Time to scrape the Bavarian cream into the mold and get it into the refrigerator.

It will take a good four hours for the Bavarian cream to set up. I recommend overnight.

Here's what it looks like, but as you can see it hasn't changed terribly much, except for that little rough patch where I tapped it to make sure it had thickened. To unmold it, peel back the foil around the lip and bend it outward so it won't get caught on the mold.

Now place your platter of choice over the top, upside-down of course...

...and flip everything over.

Take off the mold...

...gently remove the foil...

...and peel back the top. Those small blobs of Bavarian cream that leaked out around the top can be easily removed at this point if you wish, or you can leave them. Either way is fine. Decorate the top however you'd like. I used peaches I'd poached, canned is fine, fresh berries or piped whipped cream work cream too.

Don't that look purty on a plate? Tastes good, too.

It may not be traditional, but I can tell you how it tastes: phenomenal. The assembly goes like this: roll out your puff pastry to about 1/4" thickness and cut out your crusts. You want the circles to be as big around as the outside lip of the ramekin molds. Once they're cut, store them in the refrigerator until needed.

Now for the caramel. Pour 4 tablespoons of sugar into a small saucepan, add a tablespoon of water and place it over high heat.

Swirl the pan gently until the mixture melts, bubbles and finally turns a medium-to-dark amber (for more detailed instructions on making caramel, see the tutorial under the Pastry Components menu to the right). Remove the pan from the heat and add a 1/4 teaspoon of sherry or red wine vinegar. It will bubble a little. Swirl to combine.

Spoon about a tablespoon of the caramel into each ramekin.

Add three olives and a roasted garlic clove to each.

Then insert a roasted tomato half, cut side up.

Next go the caramelized onions, about one and a half tablespoons.

Salt and fresh ground pepper.

Top it all off with a puff pastry round. Don't worry if it sags in the middle.

Bake at 425 for about 20 minutes until nicely browned.

Let the tarts rest for about a minute before turning them out. Careful now, they're hot. Turn them out by placing a small plate on the top of the ramekin (don't worry if that crushes the pastry a little...you need a flat bottom anyway).

Using a towel, grasp the hot ramekin with one hand and the plate with the other and flip the whole thing over. Jiggle the mold a little to loosen the tart. If it doesn't come out, try running a sharp knife around the edge of the tart and repeating the process.

Some caramel will run down the sides and pool on the plate. You can either serve the tarts as-is for a more rustic presentation, or re-plate them as I've done above. Garnish with a sprig of fresh thyme.

Look around a little and you can find recipes for full-sized tomato tartes tatin, however I think the original mini-tarts still work the best. The New York Times' large version from 2008 calls for a pound of cherry or grape tomatoes, but I think that's still too watery, and I don't much care for the presentation. If you're hell bent on making a single large tart, dry the slow-roasted tomatoes until they're nearly caramelized in the oven, then do your best to arrange the pieces in an attractive pattern. The Colicchio version goes like this:

4 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon water
1/4 teaspoon sherry (or red wine) vinegar
4 roasted garlic cloves (see slow-roasted tomato tutorial)
1 cup caramelized onions (see caramelized onion tutorial)
12 Niçoise olives, pitted
4 roasted tomato halves (see slow-roasted tomato tutorial)
Kosher salt and fresh ground pepper to taste
8 ounces puff pastry, homemade preferred, store-bought is fine

Preheat oven to 425 (puff pastry needs big heat). Combine the sugar and water in a small saucepan and swirl over high heat until the sugar dissolves, then turns a dark amber. Remove the pan from the heat and add the vinegar, swirl to combine.

Pour equal amounts of caramel into four 4-ounce ramekins. Let the caramel cool for about a minute, then drop a roasted garlic clove, 3 olives and a tomato half into each ramekin. Sprinkle on salt and pepper, then add a generous spoonful of caramelized onions.

Roll out the puff pastry to about a 1/4" thickness. Using a round cutter, punch out holes the size of the ramekins and place the rounds on top. Put the ramekins on a sheet pan and place in the oven. Bake for about 20 minutes until the pastry is puffed and golden. Let the tarts cool for one minute, then — carefully — turn them out onto plates.

At the Grammercy Tavern, these are served as an accompaniment to steak, and that's a really, really good idea.

Beignets offer a great deal of payoff relative to time spent planning and preparing them. As long as you have a fry rig ready to go, they can take as little as two hours from mixing to frying. Start by combining your dry ingredients in a mixer bowl and giving them a whisk (you can also stir with the paddle attachment).

Combine your wet ingredients and pour them in.

Mix with the beater until everything is wet.

Then switch to the hook and knead until a dough forms. It will be quite wet and sticky, but for fried things the rule of thumb is the wetter the dough the better (that's why most fried things are coated in batter, because more flour generally means a tougher end product).

Put the dough into a lightly oiled bowl...

...and let rise until almost doubled, about 45 minutes.

Transfer the dough to a well-floured surface...

...and pat into a rectangle.

Roll it out to about 3/8"...

...then cut the dough one way...

...and the other.

Place them on a kitchen towel or proofing cloth.

Let them rise another 45 minutes to an hour until puffy, and fry 45 seconds a side until golden.

Drain them on paper towels, transfer to plates while still hot and dust them liberally with powdered sugar.

Troll around the web and you'll find all sorts of overwrought beignet recipes, loaded down with eggs, butter, sugar, even evaporated milk. They're all rather misguided to my way of seeing things. Though New Orleans beignets resemble doughnuts in many resects, they shouldn't actually be doughnuts. Rather, they should be light and airy little frivolities that you can enjoy without feeling too full or guilty afterward...'cause you've got a big dinner coming up at Antoine's, remember?

Slow-rising yeast doughs offer the most flavor, but do you honestly think a busy café has time or space to retard dough in the refrigerator? With all those hungry customers out there? Are you kiddin' me? This dough is fast to mix, fast to rise and fast to fry. The buttermilk makes up for the quick rise by adding the flavor of fermentation.

4 ounces (1/2 cup) whole milk, room temperature
4 ounces (1/2 cup) buttermilk, room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla
4 teaspoons instant yeast
1 1/2 ounces (3 tablespoons) granulated sugar
9 ounces (2 cups minus two tablespoons) all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
Powdered sugar for garnishing
Peanut oil for frying

Combine the liquid ingredients in a measure and stir. Put the yeast, granulated sugar, flour and salt in the bowl of a mixer fitted with a paddle and stir. Add in the dry ingredients and stir until all the ingredients are moistened. Switch to the dough hook and knead 3-4 minutes until the dough is relatively smooth. It will be rather wet and sticky. Transfer it to a lightly oiled bowl and let it rise until almost doubled, 45 minutes to an hour. The dough can be deflated and refrigerated at this point for up to 3 days.

Turn the dough out onto a well-floured board and pat it down into a rough rectangle. Roll it out to a thickness of about 3/8", then with a pizza cutter slice it into squares about 2" side to side. Lay the beignets on a sheet pan covered with a clean dish towel or proofing cloth and let rise another 45 minutes or so until puffy. Meanwhile, pour 2-3 inches of peanut oil into a heavy pot and slowly heat it to 375. Do I have to repeat that you should have a fire extinguisher close by? You should whenever you deep fry.

Fry the beignets about 45 seconds per side, closely watching your oil temperature to make sure it gets neither too hot or cool. Drain on paper towels. Serve warm with powdered sugar sprinkled all over. This recipe makes about 30 small beignets but can be doubled or tripled if you really REALY like beignets.

Having made so many clafoutises this week, er, clafoutees. No...clafouteece?

Having made so much clafoutis this week, I've learned a thing or two. Firstly, that there's simply no comparison between a clafoutis made with unpitted cherries and one made with pitted cherries. The unpitted version wins the taste, texture and appearance trifecta hands down. Second, the old adage that the simplest foods are the hardest to perfect is true, true, true.

Preheat your oven to 350. Start with about a pound of cherries. Wash and stem them. A little more or less than a pound is fine, you want whatever amount fills your 9" skillet or baking form. Yes, you can use a 9" pie plate or tart pan if you want. Lightly grease it with butter before you start.

Next, combine your batter ingredients in a food processor or blender...

...and blend about 30 seconds until fully combined. Let the batter sit for ten minutes or so to let the bubbles rise and the froth die down, since a fine froth can create a rough-looking surface when baked.

Gently pour the batter into the pan. Don't pour "around", just stick to one spot so as not to coat too many cherries with batter. The batter is thin. Just let it rise around the fruit.

Keep going until all the batter is in. Unpitted cherries will float, so you need not worry about covering them.

Bake for 45 minutes to an hour and you're done! Serve warm or cold with a dollop of whipped cream or a sprinkling of powdered sugar.

For those of you who prefer to make clafoutis with pitted cherries, I have three tips. First, do as Julia Child recommends and pour about a quarter inch of batter into your greased pan. Bake it in your preheated oven for about five minutes to thicken it, this will form a sort of platform for the pitted cherries so they don't sink in the batter. Second, leave the salt out of the batter, since even a small amount of salt will help draw juice out of the cherries. Third, reconsider using unpitted cherries.

This is a slightly doctored version of Julia Child's recipe. I know, I'm fiddling with a classic, but almond and cherries go together just too well (hence a little Amaretto in the mix). I'm also "country-ing" up the thing by adding some brown sugar. Note that in another divergence from the original, I suggest that the cherries be left intact, not pitted. Pit them if you wish, but the end product won't be as appealing, either to taste or to look at. And anyway, what's a little pit-spitting among friends?

10 ounces (1 1/4 cups) milk
2.5 ounces (1/3 cup) white sugar
2.5 ounces (1/3 cup) light brown sugar
3 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla
splash of Amaretto or 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
1/8 teaspoon salt
2.5 ounces (1/2 cup) flour*
1 pound (3 cups) cherries with pits left in
powdered sugar for dusting

Preheat oven to 350. Wash cherries and pull off any stems. In a blender or food processor, combine the milk, sugars, eggs, vanilla, salt and flour. Process until homogenous. Pour cherries into a 9" cast iron skillet or 8-cup baking dish. Gently pour the batter into the dish. Don't worry if the batter is deeper than the circumference of the cherries, they'll float. Bake for 45 minutes to an hour until the clafoutis is browned and slightly puffed. Allow to cool, sprinkle with powdered sugar and serve.

* For an even more interesting flavor and texture, replace half of the wheat flour with almond flour or ground almonds.

Strawberry shortcake was a plated dessert in America before Americans even knew what plated desserts were. Here I'm continuing in that tradition, though I respect the single "big biscuit" approach that grannies all over North America have been employing for generations. You can adapt this recipe to make a single, large shortcake if you wish, just bake up the biscuit dough in an 8" or 9" round cake pan.

Begin your shortcake by preheating your oven to 500 and arranging a rack on the very top shelf. Combine your flour and leavening and sifting it together over a bowl.

Press your cooked egg yolks through a fine mesh strainer into the bowl...

...and add your sugar and salt.

Whisk to combine.

Add your cold butter pieces...

...and work the mixture until it's about this consistency:

Now pour in the buttermilk...

...and gently bring the mixture together with a scraper or spoon. You'll want to knead it a bit by hand to form the final dough.

Pat the dough down into a mass about 3/4" high...

...and using a large, 2 3/4" cutter, cut out some nice, large biscuits.

Place them on a parchment-lined sheet pan, brush them with melted butter...

...and sprinkle them with sugar.

While the biscuits are baking, sprinkle your sliced strawberries with sugar (this is obviously a very small quantity, since I was just making shortcake for myself on Sunday) and set them aside. Some people like to mash half the berries to create more of a sauce. Feel free to do that if you wish. A squeeze of lemon can be nice here, or a jot of some sort of liqueur. It's completely up to you.

When the biscuits are nicely browned, remove them from the oven. As they're cooling, whip up your Chantilly cream.

When they've cooled completely, split them in half.

Lay the bottom half down on a plate and spread on a layer of cream. I like mine firmer rather than soupier, so the cake layers don't slide apart. If you like you can pipe the cream on for a more refined appearance.

Spoon on some macerated berries, which will have created their own "sauce" by now. I should add here that if you're the type of person that likes a sauce-soaked shortcake, you can reverse the order of the layers. Since I like all my layers distinct, I lay down the cream first to prevent the syrup from soaking in.

Apply the top of the biscuit...

...and another layer of cream, plus more berries. Top with a final dollop of Chantilly cream if you'd like.

Done!

Biscuits, strawberries, whipped cream. Those are the base components of a classic strawberry shortcake. I vary it a little by using Chantilly cream which is a more indulgent version of whipped cream: heavy cream whipped with sugar and vanilla extract. The biscuits are a variation of my go-to recipe, but sweeter and incorporating Rose Levey Beranbaum's trick of adding hard-cooked egg yolk for extra color, lightness and tenderness (the regular version also works very well, though I suggest using all butter versus half butter and half lard). You'll need:

11 ounces (2 cups) White Lily all-purpose (NOT self-rising) flour OR a combination of 5 ounces (1 cup) all-purpose flour plus 6 ounces (1 1/4 cups) cake flour
2 hard-cooked egg yolks, pressed through a fine mesh strainer
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 ounce sugar
2 ounces cold butter, cut into small pieces
6 ounces (3/4 cup) buttermilk

About 4 cups fresh strawberries, sliced
4 tablespoons sugar

1 recipe Chantilly Cream (see Components Menu)

Preheat oven to 500 degrees, arranging a rack on the top shelf of the oven. Once that's done, combine the fruit and the sugar and allow to sit (macerate).

Sift the flour and leavening together into a bowl. Add the salt and egg yolk and whisk to combine. Add butter and rub between your fingers until the mixture looks like coarse meal. Add cold buttermilk and with a spatula, slowly and gently bring the dough together. Turn out onto a lightly floured board and knead once or twice to form a smooth dough. Pat into a mass about 3/4" inch thick and using a biscuit cutter, cut into 2 3/4" rounds. You'll have 7-8 portions. Brush with melted butter, sprinkle with sugar and bake 10-12 minutes until golden.

Prepare the Chantilly cream. When the biscuits have cooled, split them and lay them on individual plates. Spoon on some of the Chantilly cream, then a layer of the macerated strawberries, then apply the tops of the biscuits. Add another layer of Chantilly cream and finish with more strawberries. Consume immediately, with gusto.

My style of baklava is nut-heavy, as you can see. I like it that way, though it does produce a baklava that isn't easy to eat according to formal Turkish baklava etiquette. If you're a stickler for formality, cut down the nuts. The result will be pieces of baklava that are easier to spear with a fork and pop into your mouth.

Start with the nuts. I use an equal mix of walnuts, almonds, pistachios and pine nuts. Here I've got about 1 3/4 pounds, but you can use less if you wish. You'll want an absolute minimum of a pound.

Pulse them in your food processor until they're finely chopped by not ground down to a paste.

Add your brown sugar and spices...

...and stir. Now tend to the filo. Gently unroll the sheets...

..and trim them down to size using a ruler. For a 9" x 13" pan you'll want sheets that are about 8 1/4" x 11 1/2" since the bottom of the pan is smaller then the top. I generally cut two piles, making the second heap a bit larger, since the pan gets wider toward toward the top.

Since filo will get brittle with only a few minutes' exposure to the air, you'll want to cover it with a kitchen towel...

...spritzed lightly with water.

Now for the fun part. First, melt your butter and clarify it by skimming off the white foam that rises to the top. Why is this step important? Because that white foam is made of protein, and proteins brown with heat. Paint those little clumps onto the top few layers of your baklava, and the result will be uneven brown streaks and splotches. I doesn't look good, no sir.

Apply butter to the bottom of your pan.

Drop in a filo layer and butter it liberally. Do this a total of eight times.

Spread on half your nut mixture...

...and pat it down gently.

Now start layering on more buttered sheets of filo. Four of them this time. Here I should insert that frozen filo can be fussy stuff. Often it will want to tear as you peel off individual sheets. The reason for this is frequently because it's not quite thawed. If you experience several sheets tearing in a row, let the filo sit for ten minutes or so and try again. If the tearing won't stop, just do your best to patch them together. Truth be told, you only need a couple of nice, unbroken sheets for the very top. If I'm having a bad day with filo, I'll save one or two perfect sheets under a towel to use for the final layers. No one knows the difference. But where was I? Oh yes, four layers...

...then the remaining half of your nuts...

...then eight more buttered layers. The pattern is 8-nuts-4-nuts-8. Got it? Good. Butter the top amply.

Now then. Put the pan in the refrigerator and chill it for a minimum of half an hour, this will make it easier to cut. The baklava will store nicely this way for a day or more, covered if you wish. When you're ready to bake, cut the baklava. Cut it five times horizontally...

...and then cut it diagonally. Doesn't slicing a baklava this way give you lots of odd-shaped, un-servable pieces? you might ask. Indeed so. You think I intend to let my wife's department eat all of this?

Put the baklava in the oven to bake, about 45 minutes. Meanwhile, combine your syrup ingredients in a small sauce pan and simmer for 15 minutes or so until slightly thickened.

When the baklava is lightly browned, remove it from the oven...

...then carefully pour on the syrup, being careful to coat the top of every piece. Don't make the baklava swim, just moisten everything. You may only want to use about two-thirds of the syrup. That's fine.

Let the finished baklava sit for a minimum of 12 hours and up to 48 hours if you wish at room temperature. Chilling it before serving will help firm the individual pieces. Before serving, re-cut the entire baklava to shore up the filling. Consumer according to proper Turkish etiquette — or not!

...is how I like my baklava. Commercially-made filo dough doesn't taste like much, so why not go where the flavor is? Like any simple recipe, the better your base ingredients, the better the end product will be, so get good butter, grind your spices fresh, you know the drill. This recipe fits a 9" x 13" casserole pan.

For the baklava:

1 lb. filo dough, thawed overnight
1 1/2 lbs. nuts (walnuts, almonds, pistachios, cashews, pine nuts or blend thereof)
2/3 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon allspice
1/2 teaspoon cloves
8 ounces good quality butter, melted and white solids skimmed off (i.e. "clarified")

Preheat your oven to 350. Put the nuts in the bowl of a food processor and pulse until they're finely chopped (but not to they point they're a powder or paste). Combine the chopped nuts, sugar and spices in a large bowl and stir to combine. Set aside.

Remove the thawed filo from the packaging and unroll it. Since the bottom of your 9" x 13" casserole pan is more like 8 1/2" x 12", you'll want to cut the dough to match the size. I generally divide the total quantity of dough into two stacks, cut one stack to that size, and the other to a slightly larger size since the pan broadens at the top. Once your filo is cut, cover it with a kitchen towel spritzed lightly with water.

Using a pastry brush, butter the pan and lay in your first sheet of dough. Butter that, add another sheet and so on until you've got a 8 sheets stacked. Spoon on half your nut mixture and pat it down evenly. Lay on four more sheets of buttered dough, the other half of the nuts, and finally 8 more sheets of filo. Put the pan in the refrigerator for at least half an hour to firm the butter so it's easier to cut. When ready, cut the pastry, five times from end-to-end and as many times diagonally as you need to cut all the pieces to shape.

Put the baklava in the oven on a low rack and bake for 40-50 minutes until the filo is flaky and lightly browned.

For the syrup:

2 cups sugar
2 cups water
1/2 cup honey (tupelo, orange blossom or other NON-clover, single-pollen variety)
juice of 1/2 lemon
2 large strips orange or lemon peel
1 cinnamon stick
3 whole cloves

While the baklava is baking, make the syrup. Combine all ingredients in a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Simmer 10-15 minutes until the syrup thickens somewhat. Take the syrup off the heat, strain it and pour over the baklava, making sure to coat every piece. You want the baklava moistened, remember, not swimming. If you use two-thirds or less of the syrup, that's OK.

Let the finished baklava sit overnight (at least) before serving.

If I were to try to describe Joe Pastry heaven to you, it would go a little something like this: a warm spring afternoon, the kids and the missus are taking a nap. There's a cold bottle of suds open, and a big ol' pastry to build.

That was my Sunday, friends, and here's what it looked like. I used a spatula to loosen the cake (you can also employ meringue, recipe below) from the sides of the sheet pan, then slid it — still on the parchment — onto my work surface.

I got out my ruler and cut the cake into four equal strips (the exact size isn't really important as long as the dimensions match)...

...then I trimmed off the hard, crusty ends...

...and started stacking. I took one layer and placed it on a serving plate.

Then I cut two narrow pieces of parchment about the length of the bottom layer and tucked one under each edge. These were my "drop cloths", so to speak.

On the bottom went the ganache. I applied a nice thick layer, about 1/4 inch thick, paying special attention to the corners because the tendency is always to heap up filling in the center (this ends up giving the pastry a drop-shouldered look that isn't terribly appealing).

Once the ganache was applied, I put on the next layer...

...and applied my prailine filling. Again, I put it on fairly thick, and squared off the corners and edges.

Then I put on the next sheet...

...and the rum pastry cream.

Then I applied the top layer. At this point I had several choices. I could have left the pastry as-is with maybe a dusting of powdered sugar on the top, however I decided to get a bit more jiggy widdit.

I had just enough ganache left in the bowl to do the top. I gave the ganache — literally — a two-second shot in the microwave to loosen it, then spread it quickly on. (I should point out here that ganaches tend to seize when you heat them like that, so if yours takes on a grainy or greasy texture, whisk in a couple of drops of cream to re-establish the emulsion).

Since I didn't have enough ganache to do the whole thing, I applied some extra pastry cream to the sides...

...then patted on some peeled and sliced almonds.

It's a nice look, I think. What were my other options? Some people frost theirs completely with ganache or buttercream. Others cover theirs top-to-bottom with pastry cream and nuts. It occurred to me that pastry cream with patted-on leftover praline would be very nice too.

But where was I now? Oh yes, I gently slid out my strips of parchment paper...

...then went around and stuck on a few extra almond slices where there were bald spots. Done!

This finished pastry benefits from an overnight in the fridge, and can be kept as long as four or five days. It's best served chilled, though I like to take it out of the refrigerator perhaps twenty minutes before serving to allow the ganache top to soften.

So, it's the day of your marjolaine "build" and it's time to make your fillings. Marjolaine typically has two different cream fillings (usually pastry cream or buttercream, but I've also seen whipped cream versions), one flavored with nuts, nut paste or praline, and the other flavored with vanilla and a liqueur of some type. What's below is what I like to do. I put about a cup and a half of pastry cream in a bowl and add maybe half the ground praline.

And stir.

Next I put another cup and a half of pastry cream in another bowl. To that I add about half a teaspoon of vanilla extract and maybe a tablespoon of rum.

And stir.

And now I'm ready to rock and roll.

Since opinion is divided on which version of marjolaine is superior, the one made with sponge cake or the one made with meringue, I decided to demonstrate both:

For Sponge Cake Layers

You'll need:

6 egg whites
3 ounces (1 cup) toasted, sliced almonds
4.5 ounces (1 cup) toasted hazlenuts
7 ounces (1 cup) sugar
1.25 ounces (1/4 cup) flour

Begin by preheating your oven to 450. Then grease a sheet pan lined with parchment paper (trim it if you must in order to ensure it lays flat). Combine the nuts, sugar and flour in the bowl of your food processor and process until finely ground.

Now put six room-temperature egg whites into the bowl of your mixer fitted with the whip.

Whip on medium-high to about the soft peak stage and add 1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar to help stabilize the foam.

Whip until stiff (but not dry).

Now start folding in your nut mixture in three or four additions.

You'll have something that looks about like this when you're done. Don't worry about incorporating every last tiny pocket of nuts into the batter, since you'll do the last bit of mixing as you spread the batter around on the pan.

Speaking of which, get a little fussy about this step. Spread the batter around as evenly as you can. Pay particular attention to the corners, since they usually get short-changed. If you've ever watched a contractor smoothing concrete, that's about the level of scrutiny you should apply here. A toothpick is a handy tool for checking your batter depth at different spots around the pan.

Bake the batter for 7-9 minutes until it turns a golden brown, a bit longer if you'd like your layers a little firmer and drier.

Let the finished layer cool in the pan. Lightly covered, it will keep overnight at room temperature.

For Meringue Layers

Most people in the know believe meringue layers are truer to Fernand Point's original. They have a different texture of course, but one of the big advantages to them is that they give you a finished pastry with more distinct layers. Begin by preheating your oven to 350, You'll need:

8 egg whites
3/4 cup of your toasted nut mixture (hazelnuts or almonds or a mixture of both)
5.25 ounces (3/4 cup) sugar, divided
3 tablespoons (about 1 ounce) all-purpose flour

Combine the nuts, flour and HALF the sugar in the bowl of a food processor...

...and process until finely ground.

Now put your egg whites into the bowl of your mixer fitted with the whip.

Whip on medium-high to about the soft peak stage and add 1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar to help stabilize the foam.

Whip for a few seconds, then add the rest of the sugar in a steady stream with the machine running.

About 30 seconds later you'll have a meringue:

Now start folding in your nut mixture in three or four additions.

You'll have something that looks about like this when you're done. Again, don't worry about incorporating every last tiny pocket of nuts into the batter, since you'll do the last bit of mixing as you spread the batter around on the pan.

Scoop the batter onto your greased sheet pan and spread the batter as evenly as you can.

Bake for 12-15 minutes until the meringue turns a golden brown.

Let the finished layer cool in the pan for at least an hour, until it's not longer sticky to the touch. Lightly covered, it will keep very well overnight at room temperature.

What, you mean you didn't know you could make ganache with crème fraîche? Indeed you can, and a splendidly rich, smooth, sweet and tangy experience it is too. Some people make ganache using nothing but crème fraîche (or sour cream) for the dairy component. I myself prefer a mellower 50-50 blend of crème fraîche and heavy cream. For this week's marjolaine project you'll use half a cup (4 ounces) of crème fraîche, half a cup (4 ounces) of heavy cream and 8 ounces of bittersweet chocolate chips.

Most of the time when I make ganache I use a microwave to slowly heat my mixture of cream and chocolate. For a "sour" ganache, however, I bring the dairy to a boil first. Why? Partly because it helps liquify the crème fraîche or sour cream, but also because I'm planning to let this ganache cool at room temperature overnight and I'd just as soon all the lactic acid bacteria in the bowl were dead. They don't really pose much of a threat, and they'd have a hard time surviving amid all that sugar and fat anyway, but they way I see it, the fewer active bacteria in my finished pastry, the better. So adiós muchachos.

Combine the dairy ingredients in a small sauce pan...

...whisk them together and put the pan over medium-high heat until the mixture comes to a boil.

Pour it over your chips...

...and stir...

...until it looks about like this.

I make this the evening before I make marjolaine, then let it sit on the counter to slowly firm until I use it the next day.

Praline is what we're going to use to flavor one of the layers of pastry cream. It's a simple, fun and kinda silly part of the marjolaine-making process. Start by greasing a sheet pan or cookie sheet. You can use butter, oil or cooking spray like I'm doing here. (A Silpat comes in very handy here if you own one).

Mix together half a cup of your toasted almonds and hazelnuts and pour them onto the greased pan.

Now make a good, smoky caramel out of half a cup of sugar and a two or three tablespoons of water (instructions on caramel-making are under the Pastry Components menu to the right). All you really need to do is swirl your moistened sugar over high heat in a non-stick pan until it looks about like this:

Pour that over your nut mixture...

...and allow it to cool. Kinda pretty, yes?

Now wreck it. Scrape it up with a heavy scraper, not caring at all if it breaks...

...because all you're going to do is put it into your food processor...

...and grind it to pieces.

This is the silly part I mentioned. Why go to the trouble of making something only to destroy it? I dunno, ask Fernand Point. Keep this in an airtight container for many days if need be.

One batch of pastry cream as listed on the components menu to the right, with one exception: leave out the vanilla bean. You can keep this in the fridge, covered, for days. Oh, and if you prefer making your marjolaine with buttercream, make a batch of plain Swiss or Italian meringue buttercream. I know, this is a French pastry. Classic French buttercream, however, is too heavy for this pastry.

This is one of those small steps that has a big impact on flavor. Yes, it's an extra step, but I think it's worth it since nuts play such a big part in the overall flavor profile. Preheat your oven to 400 and toast 1 1/2 cups (4.5 ounces) of sliced almonds for 7-8 minutes until they look about like this:

Then toast 1 1/2 cups (6.75 ounces) of hazelnuts until they look about like this:

Cool and...done! You'll use these in two different components of the pastry. These will keep for several days.