Probably no-one makes baklava quite like the guys at Karak[omul]y, who stack them in trays and scoop them up on a slice in serried rows, like regimented dormice, and use walnuts and pistachio and hazelnut and honey which oozes from the base. Which still, inexplicably, stays crisp. What – you prefer the little shop over in Balat? Really? Which just goes to show that it’s all a matter of taste.
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