Where are we?

It's a crisp 52 degrees in November, clear skies, and you're looking at a plate of fresh burrata, parma cotto, and caciotta capra foglie noce. Being that that the table pictured is the same one from nearly every post here, it should be pretty obvious that it's C-town. Home, to be specific. All the food, though, is imported.

As down as I am with local foods (had dinner with these studs last night), there's always room to stray. When Miceli's starts busting out water buffalo burrata I'll reconsider my position, but for now this was a pretty solid lunch. All purchased at Gallucci's.

This was my first burrata experience. I'd heard much banter about how great it is, but had never been confident that I'd be able to try a good example of the stuff around town. So I waited. And when I saw the happy little balls in a deli case today I figured I'd wait some more. But I couldn't help but ask the always lovely Gallucci deli personnel about the freshness of the esteemed cheese. The old man's eyes perked up before he said "We got those in last night." Sold.

That cheese, admittedly based on my only taste of the stuff, was everything that's great about dairy. It was like the best of cream and fresh cheese and everything between all shaped up for a good time. Really great stuff.

As for the rest. I enjoyed the walnut leaf wrapped goat's milk cheese and the parma cotto well enough, but I'm not sure what could hold up next to the burrata. Also, the the parma cotto was just a place holder for something I can't seem to find around here--a cooked french ham. Not really a Bayonne ham, I don't think, although that would be nice, but a cooked, pretty pink, French deli style ham. Maybe it would help if I knew what it was called, but I don't. I still don't harbor any love for the French, but I've been craving their delightful pork. Even with the Italian stuff around.