Baklava Bundt Cake
The first time I tried to make real baklava, I cried. Not dramatic, sobbing tears—just the sort of frustrated, silent tears that come when you realize you’ve buttered yourself into a corner. Phyllo sheets tearing, sticky counters, butter pooling in places it shouldn’t. My youngest, bless him, wandered through the kitchen and asked if I was “making paper crafts or food.” That was enough to make me laugh through it, but the pan of baklava never did set right. We ate it anyway—too sweet, soggy bottom, like eating nuts wrapped in damp tissue paper. Now, my mother (who would’ve been …