Disconnected

I have no internet connectivity at my house, yet. There's something both weirdly isolating and weirdly liberating about it.

Worth every penny

Some may recall that during my last professional trip to Chicago, I had a mind-blowing dish at The Green Zebra, a burrata cheese slab melting over basil pappardele and drizzled with lemon oil, with roasted pine nuts and beet shavings sprinkled all over. I've been on a quest ever since for burrata cheese, which proves difficult to find. The cheesemonger at my local upscale foodstore told me he doesn't usually order it until the good tomatoes begin to come in. This last week, he called to say that he had burrata. I raced over and bought a little pouch of it for $15. Now, that's not really all that much for good cheese, but I'm feeling particularly frugal these days, what with supporting two households and all. But, reader, I bought it. Or should I say, reader, I married it, because I totally would if cheese could take human form, and eating it is practically an erotic experience. It's like a smooth wet cloud of creamy cheeseness in every bite. Last night: a toasted sandwich of burrata, arugula, tomatos, and roasted piquanté peppers. Today, I've plopped a couple of spoonsful on my leftover rhubarb risotto experiment, which I hope to heat and eat shortly. And tonight? Who knows?.... It may sound like cheese overkill, but it has a very short shelf-life (about 4 days), and if you look at it that way, I have a financial obligation to eat as much of it as I can very quickly.