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Posts Tagged ‘Burrata’

Oh, happy days:  the Copley Sq. Farmer’s Market is open once again! I love the farmer’s market. Being early in the season, the produce is still somewhat light, BUT…guess what I found over at the Siena Farms stand?  No, not fava beans…but fava bean greens.

Needless to say, being a somewhat new convert to the fava bean, greens were a new concept to me.  They were piled up in a basket with a little sign that instructed you to try wilting them in olive oil and serving with lemon juice and sea salt.

Did I try it?  Well, of course…  How could I not?

And how did it go?  Let’s take a peek:

Ta dah!  Success.  And how did it taste?  Well, yummy, yes, but I don’t suppose that tells you much.  Supposedly they were to taste like fava beans themselves, but really, well, they tasted like fava bean greens.  Not like spinach, as I might have suspected, but closer to perhaps fiddleheads or maybe dandelion greens, with a subtle nutty/buttery infusion of fava. I would make them again.

Back at the farmer’s market, I made my way over to the Fiore di Nonno stand.  I actually discovered their handmade mozzarella cheese over a year ago.  Based in Somerville, MA, it’s about as fresh a cheese as you can find in these parts.  Today, however, it was time for something special:  their fig burrata!  Burrata, if you are unfamiliar with it, is basically a mozzarella cheese ball with a soft, creamy filled center.  This particular one was filled with mascarpone and fig jam, making a very sweet burrata.

And of course, you have to see the inside!

The mozzarella was wonderful, as you would expect: fresh, creamy, nicely textured. The burrata overall was a bit too sweet for my liking, however.  It actually reminded me quite a bit of the inside of a good cannoli. I should mention that, while truthfully I’m a good old-fashioned American mutt when it comes to ethnicity, there are Italians on both sides of my family. Add a childhood filled with homemade pasta, tomato sauce, sausages and pizzelles, and I generally consider myself Italian, particularly when I’m speaking about food (which I often do, clearly). That being said, I have a confession to make, which I will say very quietly: I don’t like cannolis. Now, I’m not saying I won’t eat them — there’s a big difference between not liking something and not eating something.  Unless you are my boyfriend.  But I digress. Bottom line, if you’re not crazy about the filling of cannolis, pass on the fig burrata and save it for someone who will appreciate it. They’re rare enough that they deserve to be savored appropriately. Should I happen upon the Fiore di Nonna stand again when they’ve got their roasted garlic and onion burrata, though, all bets are off.

It’s going to be a good summer. Have I mentioned I love the farmer’s market?

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