Burrata is like that friend-of-a-friend you’re always running into suddenly everywhere.
When did the soft cheese show up? You squint, remembering cheeses past. There’s brie in the distance. And chevre, in that ’90s getup. You flip through Polaroids of tender taleggios and gritty manchegos. There’s a snapshot of fresh mozzarella loping toward the kitchen. It’s the hardworking sort that hustles lasagna onto the table.
But there — in that faded black-and-white. Doesn’t that look like mozzarella, yet different, more glam? It’s even got a topknot. That’s burrata — fresh mozzarella outside, creamy curds inside. The cheese-making technique dates back nearly a century; the pale cheese it produces only lasts a day.
Burrata, Italian for buttered. Right! Now you remember you were introduced before, that time, at that thing. You didn’t catch the name then, but you’ll make a point of remembering: burrata, the (sorta) new cheese in town.
Burrata Bites
Prep: 15 minutes; Cook: 15 minutes; Makes: 12 appetizers.
1 ripe pear
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 coin fresh ginger, 1¼ inches thick
¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper
Olive oil
1 clove garlic, whole but bruised
Kosher salt
12 slices baguette, each ½ inch thick
Orange marmalade
1 ball (4 ounces) burrata
6 thin slices prosciutto
Quarter pear the long way and cut out the core. (Leave skin on.) Cut crosswise into thin slices. Heat butter in a nonstick skillet over medium. Add pear slices, ginger and red pepper. Cook until pears are caramel-brown, about 10 minutes. Discard ginger.