There are occasions when only words will tell the story, not necessarily momentous occasions, although with the passing years I treat the moment of waking each day as increasingly momentous, but simple daily events that move me. Eating a very good supper last night fell into that category. Peace, warmth and tranquillity are the finest seasoning. Fine as they are, they need to be balanced with the same care as the fieriest chillies, the saltiest anchovies and the most pungent garlic or they overwhelm each other. A good balance of all three makes a very good aperitif which we both enjoyed.
Supper was based round a piece of cheese: burrata. It is said that this cheese is past its best after 48 hours, and this cheese was a good few hours past that date owing to geography. “OK, look, it needs to be said: it is highly likely that burrata is earth’s best cheese..” Not my words, but it sets the scene and saves me using too many superlatives. It’s the pure, unadulterated deliciousness of the thing that has made me a lifelong lover of burrata. A salad of tomatoes seasoned with sea salt and olive oil: slices of burrata: some leaves of rocket from the garden: some perfect, marble sized grenaille potatoes with a knob of butter and a couple of leaves of fresh mint. That’s it. With it we drunk several very good glasses of water.
Pudding was a mess of fresh apricots, skinned and boiled in their own syrup for about ten minutes and then cooled in the fridge. Creme fraiche was swirled through the apricots which were accompanied by a small slice of a light sponge, filled with apricot jam and thick, fresh cream.
We had more peace, warmth and tranquillity as a digestif.
Food, Photography & France 
A nod is as good as a wink… to a blind horse 😉
Was that a nod or a wink that you just gave me,,,,or the finger 🙂
Why oh why oh why do I come here when I am hungry??
I’m pleased it works:)
Ooh that was strange, no photo! But I have a wonderufl picture in my mind’s eye of this elusive Burrata of which I have heard marvellous things. No such luck to track it down here in the wilds of Andalucia, but perhaps next time I’m in the UK…? And did I read that right…water?!!!
Maybe the “water” bit was fanciful:)
And you used the words perfectly, burrata. I will look it up. Your meal was so simple, with the very best ingredients. I can feel your satisfaction and repleteness. nice.. c
Oh i am silly, ChgJohn introduced me to this cheese, much too hard for me to make, and divine!
🙂
Heaven. Simplicity itself.
It’s good when it works out:)
I do somehow think an error was made in the night’s menu . . . on the drinks side, I mean 😉 !
I was feeling ascetic…or had I run out of wine. I forget:)
One of the sorry “benefits” of making my own mozzarella, burrata’s ugly step-sister, was learning that it is heavenly when freshly made, a condition that deteriorates with each passing hour. Unless I get back to Italy, I shall never have the pleasure of tasting freshly made burrata. I can live happily not knowing what I’m missing.
This is what I’ve heard. However, even though the burrata we had was more than a few hours old, it was still delicious. Tasting fresh burrata is on my “to do” list.
YUM.
Absolutely:)
I gain weight every time I read one of your posts.
I shall try to be more careful:)
Oh please don’t. Everything looks and sounds and tastes (i have a very active imagination) so good! 🙂
Lovely, Roger. Even without a photo.
Many thanks, Michelle.
I first “discovered” burrata a few years ago in a restaurant in New York. Prior to that, I thought I knew everything about mozzarella. What a revelation and what a joy of discovery. Excellent post, even though it was bereft of a visual, your words painted the picture perfectly.
It was a great discovery for me. I’m looking forward to the chance to have fresh burrata on a visit to Italy.
Wow that was unusual. I just wrote an extremely long comment
but after I clicked submit my comment didn’t show up. Grrrr… well I’m
not writing all that over again. Anyhow, just wanted to say wonderful blog!