A crisp raspberry, brown butter and pistachio crinkle pie ...
... that's perfect for the holiday weekend. Plus some other lovely ideas for using filo, an underrated pastry (in some quarters)
I’m late to the party on crinkle pies. Apparently they went viral on TikTok more than a year ago, but perhaps I’m so behind the times the concept is fresh again. Like scrunchies. Who knows? And, really, who cares when the crinkle method turns out fantastically easy and delicious filo pies.
I find working with filo quietly thrilling. I mean, it’s like cooking with sheets of paper, isn’t it? Every time I unfurl filo from its packaging I’m tickled by its gossamer-thin-ness and the fact that in some parts the world, there are absolute heroes still making the stuff by hand, stretching it out on big tables without a single tear. How is it that flour, water and olive oil can be transformed into something so extraordinary and other-worldly?
Obviously, it makes good eating, too. The pastry directly exposed to the heat of the oven turns crisp, golden and flaky in a way no other pastry does; the filling-adjacent parts, meanwhile, remain tender and almost doughy. To my mind, this contrast of textures is very tasty, and one that worked especially well in a recipe for little filo hand pies I developed a few years ago.
These involved baked filo wrapped around feta, thyme, aniseeds and honey, and drenched in warm date syrup and topped with walnuts. The various elements of crisp and soft, sweet and salty makes a delicious grownup dessert. (I don’t have an image and there’s no online recipe for me to link to, but if you’d like it just let me know in the comments and I’ll send it to you.)
Filo also makes handsome savoury centrepiece dishes, like this curried cauliflower cheese pie by Ottolenghi, that boasts a crisp, burnished pastry crown. I’m taken by Diana Henry’s Greek courgette and herb pie recipe, too, which deploys filo pastry galette-style, jus as you would use shortcrust. And I recently made Özlem Warren’s divine stove-top herb borek from her new Turkish cook book, Sebze (it’s a great book and incredibly useful if you’re looking for interesting vegetable meals).
Today’s recipe appeals to the lazy cook in me, who sometimes can’t be bothered to brush a stack of filo pastry sheets individually with butter. On occasion, this just seems unfeasibly laborious, even though in reality it’s the work of moments.
Anyway, in this version of a crinkle pie, there’s no butter brushing. Because the filo sheets are pleated, concertina-like, the folds readily accept butter spooned in and/or drizzled over. Some versions of crinkle pie do involve buttering but I don’t think it’s necessary when you’re pouring custard over the whole thing, as you are here.
What you end up with is a pie that’s crunchy on top and tender inside, almost like a clafoutis; the filo kind of melts into the custard filling. I’ve used raspberries - the smell in the kitchen while they’re roasting is genuinely ambrosial - and the pop of tart juiciness when they’re cooked is delicious.
But, as ever in on these pages, swap and add ingredients and flavours as you like. A drop of rosewater in the custard would work beautifully, and a grating of dark chocolate over the top would be acceptable, too. Swap the raspberries for cherries or other berries, if you like. Or change direction completely. Wafer-thin slivers of apple tucked into the filo, cinnamon sprinkled in the custard, walnuts scattered on top and Demerara sugar strewn over for extra crunch: that would be a fine thing, too.
Have a lovely long weekend.