ITALY, COW’S MILK
PERSONALITY: Mozzarella with soul—a rare treat with a dreamy center.
Burrata is to the cheese world what the dumpling is to Asian cuisine: the ultimate comfort food. Within each pouch of noodle-soft mozzarella is a center filled with cream and, sometimes, truffle shavings or fresh herbs. Airy and cloud-light, this fresh cheese is meant to be drizzled with olive oil, sprinkled with sea salt and black pepper, then sopped up with bread. Over the last few years, burrata (pronounced Boo-RAH-ta) has become something of a dairy darling, especially in restaurants. Along the East Coast, you’re likely to find it on summer menus served with heirloom tomatoes; on the West Coast, with sea urchin.
Di Bruno Bros. has made burrata in house for decades. It’s tied off with leek leaves and kitchen twine, just as custom dictates in Puglia, where this cheese originates. The twine holds the pouch together, and the leeks are used to help gauge freshness. Buy burrata when the leaves are emerald bright; when the leaves turn spotty or brown, toss the burrata out. Great burrata is plush, luxuriant, and cooling—a gentle balm after a sun-drenched day at the beach.
Good matches: To serve, set your burrata on a lipped plate, remove the leaves, and cut the cheese in half, vertically. Drag hunks of baguette through the cream and serve them to your beloved, preferably in a hammock.
Wine/beer: Pick up something sparkly, unless you’re serving antipasti, in which case you can ramp up to a spicy red or something fruity and supple. Young Chianti or Barbera work well with fresh cheeses. So does an icy cold Pilsner.
History is riddled with proud, noble cheeses that have had their names slandered by massproduced knock-offs. We’ve all seen them, pre-shredded, canned, or cryovac-ed, populating the dairy aisle of your local grocery store; Cheddars, Parmesan, and Swiss that bear little resemblance to their handmade originals.
But the timeline of burrata is the inverse of this familiar tale. It was originally created in the 1920s by a manufacturer in Puglia, who would take the scraps from production, whip them, and stuff them into the center of mozzarella. It was a clever way to use what would otherwise become waste, and their heavier mozzarella could be sold for more money.
Burrata existed in relative obscurity, remaining unknown to anyone outside of southern Italy. However, in recent years several artisan producers have begun to realize burrata’s full potential, and exquisite burrata is now produced throughout Italy and the United States.
–CHEESEMONGER HUNTER FIKE