Solero Mediterranean bakery has stuck a poster on their door advertising their burek, a Serbian version of the Mediterranean phyllo pastry treat. It has confronted and tempted me many a time on my travels along that stretch of Dundas West.

Variations of this pastry are sold and enjoyed all over the city under many different names (often the Greek spanakopita, or the generic "spinach pie"). But the best phyllo pastry and cheese combo I ever had went by the name burek, homemade by my best friend's little sister.

She hasn't been around lately and I had a craving. So recalling that poster outside Solero, I got myself to the Junction this week for a fix.

It's bright and sunny inside Solero at 2pm. Trays of cookies and Danishes surround shelves of bread, half empty from the early morning rush.

But burek abounds. Solero's owner, Dusan Disic, enthusiastically points Alyssa and me in the direction of a glowing counter displaying fresh slices ($2.25) and entire pies. They come in meat, cheese, or spinach (the one I'm after) or sweet burek in cherry or apple.

There is no seating in Solero, so we walk around with our slices, browsing the fine looking olives and imported candy, the cheeses and homemade halva. I notice a freezer full of whole, frozen burek pies ($16.00). Mr. Disic tells me that Solero sells the pies wholesale into grocery stores all over the city.

I ask Alyssa if she wants to swap burek for a bite. She refuses, evidently satisfied with (and greedy for) her meat slice choice.

My spinach burek is exactly what I was looking for. It is buttery, flakey and rich. If I lived closer, I'd be frequenting the place for fresh slices all the time. As it is, stocking my freezer with the frozen ones is not a bad consolation.

Photos by Alyssa Bistonath