Spanakopita Spring Rolls

A month into officially living together and we've settled into a rhythm that feels less like two people sharing space and more like two people building something. Megan has claimed the left side of the closet, the right side of the bed, and the top shelf of the medicine cabinet. I have everything else, which is fair because she has more shoes than I have possessions.

We had the furniture talk this week. The apartment is a mashup of my bachelor stuff and her teacher stuff and none of it matches and we don't care, except for the couch. The couch is mine — a hand-me-down from Tom that predates my birth and smells faintly of the 1990s. Megan looked at it on Tuesday and said, "Jake. The couch." I said, "It's comfortable." She said, "It's older than both of us." She's not wrong. But this couch has survived thirty years of Packers games and I'm not ready to let it go. We compromised: we'll keep the couch but throw a blanket over it. This is what love looks like at twenty-five. Blankets over old couches.

March pierogi for the new year: traditional sauerkraut and mushroom, but with a twist — I added caraway seeds, which gives it an earthy, slightly anise note that Babcia would not have used but I think she would have respected. The caraway is subtle. It's the kind of addition you feel more than taste, the way a good chord change works in a song. You don't notice it until it's gone.

At the brewery, spring production is ramping up. Same seasonal rotation — hefeweizen, pale ale, a new session IPA — but I'm also pushing for a sour beer program. Sours are having a moment in craft brewing and Lakefront hasn't jumped in yet. The head brewer is resistant. He's old-school. But old-school brewers made sours long before new-school brewers made them trendy. I just have to frame it right.

Danny's anniversary passed. Ninth year. I went to Holy Cross on a Tuesday before work. Megan kissed me on the forehead when I left and said, "Say hi for me." She says this every time now. It's not performative. She means it. She talks about Danny like he's someone she knows through me, which he is. Which he always will be.

Pierogi night taught me something I keep coming back to: the filling is the story, and the wrapper is just how you choose to tell it. After folding caraway into the sauerkraut-mushroom batch this week — a small, deliberate deviation from Babcia’s version — I had filling left over and spring roll wrappers in the back of the fridge from a run Megan did at the Asian market. So I pivoted. Spanakopita filling, spring roll crunch — two traditions borrowing from each other, which felt exactly right for an apartment that’s still figuring out whose stuff is whose.

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 14 rolls

Ingredients

14 spring roll wrappers (8-inch square)
10 oz frozen chopped spinach, thawed and squeezed very dry
1 cup crumbled feta cheese
1/2 cup ricotta cheese
2 large eggs, divided (1 for filling, 1 beaten for sealing)
3 scallions, thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons fresh dill, chopped (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for brushing
Tzatziki or marinara, for serving

Instructions

Prep the spinach. Wrap thawed spinach in a clean kitchen towel and wring firmly until nearly no moisture remains. This step is critical — wet spinach will make the wrappers soggy and blow out the seam during cooking.
Build the filling. In a medium bowl, combine the dried spinach, feta, ricotta, 1 egg, scallions, garlic, dill, lemon juice, black pepper, and nutmeg. Stir until evenly combined. Taste and adjust salt — feta is briny, so you likely won’t need any.
Wrap the rolls. Lay one spring roll wrapper on a clean surface with a corner pointing toward you (diamond orientation). Place 3 tablespoons of filling just below center. Fold the bottom corner up over the filling, then fold in both side corners snugly. Roll upward tightly. Brush the top corner with beaten egg and press to seal. Repeat with remaining wrappers and filling.
Preheat for baking. Heat oven to 425°F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment and brush lightly with olive oil.
Bake until golden. Place rolls seam-side down on the prepared sheet, spacing them at least 1 inch apart. Brush the tops and sides generously with olive oil. Bake 18 to 22 minutes, flipping once at the 12-minute mark, until deeply golden and audibly crisp.
Rest briefly and serve. Let the rolls sit for 3 to 4 minutes before serving — the filling stays extremely hot. Serve alongside tzatziki or a simple tomato dipping sauce.

Nutrition (per serving)

Spanakopita Spring Rolls — Filling Worth the Work, Like Any Good Pierogi Night