Impossible to photograph, but trust me.
This is a skull-sized blob of burrata, the incomparable fresh mozzarella balloon shot through with cream and left to percolate into an overindulgent interior of gooshy, macaroni-like, stringy goodness.
I didn't know what to do with it. The cheese lady suggested pasta, but at $12+ for a pint of this madness, I was hardly about to toss it with noodles.
So I pulled it from the refrigerator an hour before lunchtime, and let it gently come to room temperature. Then I coaxed it from the plastic container, where it had expanded to fill all the possible space, and placed it on a plate — where it continued to burgeon.
Uncut, it made for a horrible picture. I hacked a gash into one side and the interior splooshed out, all tubes and wires and — Good heavens, Miss Sakamoto, you're beautiful!
Well, even so, I wouldn't say that this is a beautiful picture.
But it made for such fun eating.
Can you believe that with all this cow fat, we felt the need to douse it with olive oil? A crack of black pepper, and it was total decadence on a fork.
We do have leftovers. Maybe I'll boil up some penne after all.