So what is burrata?

Burrata is a fresh Italian cheese from Puglia, the heel of Italy, and more precisely the town of Andria. From the outside it looks like a ball of mozzarella, soft and white and about the size of a fist. The magic is on the inside. Cut it open and it spills out a soft, creamy, almost buttery middle, which is exactly where the name comes from: burrata means buttered in Italian, from burro, the word for butter. It was invented in the 1920s by a cheesemaker in Andria who wanted to use up the leftover scraps of mozzarella and the cream from the morning milk, and it has been a southern Italian treasure ever since.

What is burrata made of?

Burrata is really two things in one. The outer shell is mozzarella, made from cow's milk in the classic pulled-curd way. Inside, it is filled with stracciatella, which is small shreds of that same mozzarella curd soaked in fresh cream. Seal that cream-filled shell into a little pouch, tie it at the top, and that is burrata. Only milk, cream, rennet and salt go into it, which is part of why freshness matters so much, and why a good one tastes of almost nothing but sweet, fresh milk.

How do you serve burrata?

The golden rule is to serve burrata at room temperature. Take it out of the fridge about half an hour before you want to eat, because the cold flattens both the flavour and that lovely soft texture. After that, keep it simple. A good burrata barely needs a thing: a slick of really good olive oil, a pinch of flaky salt, some cracked black pepper, and maybe a few ripe tomatoes and torn basil. In summer it is glorious with peaches or figs, with a few slices of prosciutto, or on grilled bread as bruschetta. If you are putting it on pizza, add it after the pizza comes out of the oven so it stays soft and does not melt away. The one thing to avoid is drowning it, since the cheese is the star of the show.

How do you find a good burrata?

Freshness is everything with burrata, more than almost any other cheese. At its best it is eaten within a day or two of being made, and it does not keep, so the first thing to check is the date. Buy it from somewhere with plenty of turnover, like a good Italian deli or a busy cheese counter, so you know it has not been sitting around. A good one feels plump and heavy for its size, soft and giving when you press it gently, and full of milk. When you cut into it, the middle should ooze out creamy and loose. If it feels firm or rubbery, or the inside barely moves, it is past its best. And if you ever spot burrata di Andria, made where it all began, snap it up.

Can you use burrata in pasta?

Yes, and it is one of the loveliest ways to eat it, though there is a small knack to it. Burrata does not want to be cooked. Heat it hard and it splits and loses that silky texture. Instead, cook your pasta and sauce as normal, then tear the burrata over the top right at the end, off the heat. The warmth of the pasta softens it just enough, and the cream melts down into the sauce and makes everything richer and rounder. It is especially good with a simple tomato pasta or anything full of summer vegetables. Stir it through gently at the table and you get little pockets of cream in every forkful.

Burrata at 27 Old Compton Street

If all this has you craving a plate, come and see us. 27 Old Compton Street is a small, family-run pasta bar in the heart of Soho, built around the Italian tavola calda tradition, where fresh food is made and served fast. Burrata has a happy home on our menu, paired with roasted aubergine, sweet cherry tomatoes and basil pesto, and sitting alongside handmade pasta made fresh every day. Come and make a meal of it, or have a nose at the full menu first.

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