The balsamic maple sauce was a different beast altogether, but I blame the balsamic. When we moved into together, I entered this sinful situation without balsamic in my pantry. I'd finally run out of the fancy stuff I bought for far too much money at a tasting and was steadfastly refusing to replenish my stores at the *gasp* grocery store. Josh, however, came with some. I quizzed him on the quality, which he guaranteed was good, but it wasn't. It smelled like 7 week old opened wine. I don't know why I believed him, though. The man doesn't even like balsamic. Great.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Moroccan Phyllo Rolls
I've been eying these moroccan phyllo rolls for quite some time. Somehow--mostly due my own fear of phyllo in all honesty--I've managed to put them off and now it's just about past the roasted vegetable time of year. So despite my very legitimate fear of phyllo, they came out good. I didn't even mind the fennel which, as it turns out, is the stuff that grew in the fields behind my house growing up and we used to punish kids by making them sit in big batches of it when they were tagged out. But, the seasoning was perfect and they mostly stayed together despite the fact that I forgot to protect the phyllo and ended up cobbling pieces together with olive oil to make frankenphyllo.
The balsamic maple sauce was a different beast altogether, but I blame the balsamic. When we moved into together, I entered this sinful situation without balsamic in my pantry. I'd finally run out of the fancy stuff I bought for far too much money at a tasting and was steadfastly refusing to replenish my stores at the *gasp* grocery store. Josh, however, came with some. I quizzed him on the quality, which he guaranteed was good, but it wasn't. It smelled like 7 week old opened wine. I don't know why I believed him, though. The man doesn't even like balsamic. Great.
The balsamic maple sauce was a different beast altogether, but I blame the balsamic. When we moved into together, I entered this sinful situation without balsamic in my pantry. I'd finally run out of the fancy stuff I bought for far too much money at a tasting and was steadfastly refusing to replenish my stores at the *gasp* grocery store. Josh, however, came with some. I quizzed him on the quality, which he guaranteed was good, but it wasn't. It smelled like 7 week old opened wine. I don't know why I believed him, though. The man doesn't even like balsamic. Great.
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1 comment:
I am phyllophobic as well. I refuse to cook with it all because it infuriates me its crumbling and falling apart at the drop of a hat. I will gladly goble it up when someone else does all the work though, ha!
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