Ask most Australians to name a Greek dessert and they will say baklava. Fair enough. Baklava is magnificent and it deserves its fame. But Greek dessert culture extends far beyond those layers of nuts and filo, and some of the best sweets in the tradition are barely known outside of Greek communities.

Here are the desserts I think deserve wider recognition, the ones that my family made for special occasions, holidays, and those ordinary weekday evenings when something sweet was needed after dinner.

Galaktoboureko

If I had to choose one Greek dessert above all others, it would be galaktoboureko. It is a custard pie made with semolina custard wrapped in buttery filo pastry, soaked in citrus syrup. When made well, it is transcendent.

The custard is made from milk, semolina, sugar, eggs, butter, and vanilla, cooked until thick and poured between layers of filo. The whole thing is baked until the filo is golden and shattering, then doused in a warm syrup flavoured with lemon peel.

The contrast between the crispy, syrup-soaked pastry and the smooth, warm custard is extraordinary. It is served at room temperature, cut into squares or diamonds, and it is the kind of dessert that silences a table.

My tip: make it the day before you need it. It improves as the syrup soaks in and the flavours meld.

Loukoumades

Greek doughnuts. Small balls of yeasted dough, deep fried until golden and puffed, then drenched in honey and sprinkled with cinnamon and crushed walnuts. They are pillowy, sticky, and addictive.

Loukoumades are best eaten immediately, while they are still hot and the honey is dripping off them. They are festival food in Greece, sold from stalls at fairs and celebrations, eaten standing up with napkins that are never quite enough.

In Sydney, a few Greek bakeries and dessert shops serve fresh loukoumades. There has been a resurgence of interest in them recently, which is wonderful. But making them at home is straightforward if you are comfortable with deep frying.

The batter is simple: flour, yeast, water, and a pinch of salt. Let it rise, then drop small spoonfuls into hot oil. They puff up and turn golden in about 2 minutes. Drain them briefly and drown them in warm honey.

Spoon Sweets (Glyko tou Koutaliou)

This is a uniquely Greek tradition that I wish more Australians knew about. Spoon sweets are fruit preserves made by simmering whole or sliced fruit in sugar syrup until the fruit is translucent and candied. They are served in small quantities, literally a spoonful, alongside a glass of cold water and sometimes a small cup of Greek coffee.

Traditionally, when a guest arrived at your home, you would offer them a spoon sweet as a gesture of welcome. My grandmother kept jars of cherry, quince, sour cherry, fig, and grape spoon sweets in her pantry at all times.

The most common varieties include:

• Vyssino (sour cherry) - Deep ruby red, intensely flavoured
• Kythoni (quince) - Turns a beautiful amber colour when cooked
• Syko (fig) - Rich and honeyed
• Stafyli (grape) - Made from small seedless grapes
• Nerantzi (bitter orange) - The peel of bitter oranges, rolled and simmered

Making spoon sweets is time-consuming but not difficult. The key is patience with the syrup. It needs to reach the right consistency: thick enough to coat a spoon, thin enough to pour.

Kourabiedes

Butter cookies coated in a thick layer of powdered sugar, traditionally made at Christmas. They are short, crumbly, and intensely buttery, flavoured with vanilla and sometimes brandy or almond.

A properly made kourabiedes should practically dissolve in your mouth. The butter-to-flour ratio is high, which gives them their melt-in-the-mouth quality. When you bite into one, the powdered sugar clouds around your face and gets on your clothes, which is part of the charm.

Melomakarona

The other Greek Christmas biscuit. These are oval-shaped cookies made with olive oil, honey, orange juice, and spices, soaked in honey syrup after baking, and topped with crushed walnuts. They are denser than kourabiedes, more aromatic, and deeply satisfying.

The name comes from “meli” (honey) and “makarona” (blessed), and they have been part of Greek Christmas celebrations for centuries.

Rizogalo

Greek rice pudding. Made with short-grain rice, milk, sugar, and sometimes egg yolk, flavoured with vanilla and finished with a dusting of cinnamon. It is served cold, in individual bowls, and it is simple comfort food at its best.

Unlike some rice puddings that are heavy and stodgy, the Greek version is creamy and light, with the rice still having a slight bite. It is one of the first things Greek mothers make for sick children, and eating it as an adult still carries that sense of being looked after.

Halva

Two types exist in Greece. Semolina halva is made by toasting semolina in butter, then adding sugar syrup and cooking until it forms a dense, fragrant pudding. It is flavoured with cinnamon and sometimes studded with almonds or raisins. It is a Lenten dessert because the butter can be replaced with olive oil.

The other type is tahini halva, a dense confection made from sesame paste and sugar. It comes in slabs and is eaten in thin slices with coffee. You can find it at Greek and Middle Eastern grocery stores.

The Philosophy of Greek Sweets

Greek desserts are not designed to be the main event of a meal. They are gestures of hospitality, markers of seasons and celebrations, and small pleasures to be shared. A spoonful of cherry preserve with a glass of water. A loukoumades at a festival. A kourabiedes at Christmas. Each one carries meaning beyond its ingredients.

That, more than any recipe, is what makes Greek desserts special.

Kali orexi.