You know when there is a kind of food that is so widely available around you it almost feels like it's running wild in the fields and valleys of your town? A kind of food that even the remote idea of making it yourself, at home, from scratch, seems totally absurd that you laugh at yourself and brush it off your mind like a bee off a piece of pie? To Lebanese people, Baklawa is one of those foods.

Would a french person, living next door to a Parisian bakery make his own croissants every single morning for breakfast? Thought so... Then why would a Lebanese home cook (yours truly) make her own Baklawa in her very own kitchen might you ask. 
I'll tell you why, it's because here in Japan, Baklawa is just about as easy to find as a troupe of pink hippos in green tutus dancing Swan Lake on the top of mount Fuji.

So when I first made this dessert and told my mother about it,  two predictable, inevitable questions immediately popped out of her mouth:
1- You MADE Baklawa?
2- What's the occasion?
Because that's the thing with Baklawa, it's a special-occasion-only dessert, or at least in Lebanon it is. Kilos and kilos are offered on weddings, births, engagement parties, graduations and such. But I didn't really have a special occasion on hand, would a weekday diner with my husband do? It's just that I really missed this special treat.

Oddly enough (or not that odd really), the homemade version was a million times tastier than the store bought one! It was much more light and airy and the rainbow of flavors was more distinct and addictive! So yes even YOU fellow Lebanese, expatriate or not, promise me you'll try this at home at least once?

Which brings us to the other day, when husband and I decided to offer some "Thank you" sweets to our family doctor who had always taken care of us. This doctor is not only our treating physician, but also a dear old friend to the family. And what better treat to offer than Baklawa? 

This dessert carries in itself years of collective memories of joyful celebrations. It's a happy dessert. Not to mention the incredible flavors and texture concentrated in one single bite.
It's sweet and buttery, crunchy and light, like a spray of magic on your tongue.
I dare you to eat just one.   

Baklawa:

Makes approximately 45 to 50 pieces.

• 1 pack (about 20-22 sheets) of Filo pastry cut to the size of your cookie sheet.
• 300grams / 11oz roughly chopped pistachios or any other nuts you prefer. Reserve 1/4 cup of finely chopped nuts for garnish.
• 200grams / 7oz melted butter.

For the syrup:

• 1 1/2 cups caster sugar.
• 3/4 cup of water.
• 1 tablespoon orange blossom water.
• 1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice.

Preheat your oven to 180° C / 355° F.
Brush a 24cm x 34cm / 9.4" x 13.5" cookie sheet with some melted butter taking good care not to leave any dry spot behind.
Lay the first sheet of filo dough and brush the top evenly with butter, repeat 5 times. 
Lay the 7th dough sheet without brushing the top with butter. Then spread the chopped nuts to cover all the surface. Continue layering the sheets in the same pattern until all the dough is used up. Be careful not butter up the final layer otherwise it will burn during baking.
With a sharp knife, cut the dough in a diamond shape pattern then spray lightly with mineral water. This will keep the top layers from curling up when baked.
Pop your tray in the oven and set to bake for 50 to 60 minutes or until everything's decently golden all over.

In the meantime prepare the syrup:
In a heavy bottomed pan, put the sugar and water together and bring to a simmer on a low heat. Add the lemon juice and simmer for a further 5 minutes. Turn off the heat and stir in the orange blossom water.   

Take the Baklawa out of the oven and pour the syrup on top while still hot. It will sizzle, don't worry that's perfectly normal.
When the Baklawa has cooled down, take each piece out of the tray and arrange on a serving dish then sprinkle everything with the powdered nuts.
Enjoy.