Baklava (original)

Somehow both ubiquitous and unforgettable, no Greek festival, restaurant, or street food stall would be complete without it. Baklava is a dessert of contrasts—light and flaky, yet dense and rich, shattering at the touch of a fork yet soaked through with sweet syrup that clings to your fingers.

The moment you press down, the golden layers crumble into a constellation of crisp, delicate shards. For a fleeting second, you consider using your hands instead—until you lift the piece and realize just how impossibly saturated it is, each bite a cascade of honeyed excess. You will go through this ritual every time, convinced there is no good way to eat it. But here’s the truth: there is no wrong way to eat baklava.

It is an experience. A delightfully messy one. And when you embrace that, when you give in to the syrup and the crumbs and the inevitable sticky fingers, it becomes something even greater—a small, golden lesson in savoring the moment.