Burrata is the perfect food: a thin skin of mozzarella that is formed into a purse, filled with cream and shreds of more mozzarella, and sealed. I was first introduced to burrata in NJ, strangely enough, but it wasn’t until I visited Puglia a few years back that I REALLY experienced it in all its glory, devouring this milky miracle that was served to me no more than an hour after it was born. In Rome we don’t get burrata quite that fresh, but I’ve scoped out the places in town to get a pretty decent substitute. Volpetti, Roscioli (the restaurant not the forno), and Casa Bleve have this ingenious creation driven up from Andria (the city in the province of Bari from which it hails) fresh in the morning to be served that very day.
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