(The following is a short piece I wrote last year after tasting burrata for the first time. What's scary is that the only way I could stop myself from eating it everyday was to write about it. I'm currently in Burrata recovery and celebrating my 12-month anniversary. I think I'm gonna be just fine.)
An Open Letter To My Paramour
I don't really know the best way to address this, so I guess I'm going to jump right in. I've been relatively silent about this because I didn't want to hurt your feelings, but I can't keep this bottled up inside me a moment longer.
I want to break up with you.
Please, just hear me out. I want independence, I want to move on, I want to be free to see others, and above all you must know it's no reflection on you. In fact, I'll only speak good things about you to family and friends, and I'll remember our times with a smile on my face.
Burrata, I remember the day I met you like it was yesterday. Until that point I'd never met a cheese like you; a fresh milk cheese with a soft, buttery center made from fresh cream and unspun mozzarella curds, all living inside that luscious firm mozzarella casing. You really knocked me off my socks that first time. Never had I met a cheese so young, so fresh, so relatively new. It was love at first sight. And taste.
Our first few dates were simply amazing and they are times that I will treasure for the rest of my life. Do you remember that time this past summer we hung out with those heirlooms and olive oil? Absolutely delicious. Or how about that time we met up with those toasted filberts and haricot vert? Magical. But the best times we had were just us alone, extra ingredients not allowed. I realized I didn't need anyone else but you and I think that's where things went south.
Please don't take this the wrong way, but I kind of feel suckered into your charm and good taste. Sure, our dates 3 or 4 times a week were fine at first, but I just can't do it anymore. Do you realize the pressure your 5-day shelf life puts on me? Do you even know that I've been totally ignoring all other cheeses since we met? I'd usually hang out at least once a week with Zamorano and Cabrales, but I've all but shunned them for you. Stilton won't even return my phone calls. And I know for a fact that Dry Jack wouldn't even consider me a friend anymore. I'm not telling you this to make you turn sour, I'm only saying it because I want you to realize the powerful hold you had on me and my tastebuds. But not anymore.
I know this isn't easy and we're bound to run into each other in the future. Please know that I don't have any bad feelings about you, in fact I do look forward to seeing you at the occasional dinner and cheese tray. And if those sweet, fresh milky memories come flooding back into my heart, go easy on me. With your flavor, it's the least you can do.
I'll always love you, my sweet Burrata.