The first Fig Burrata Crostini I ever had cost me two euros and came wrapped in a square of butcher paper at a market stall in Andria. The vendor was a woman named Rosa. She had the kind of forearms you get from tearing mozzarella curds for forty years.
A Stall in Andria That Ruined Supermarket Burrata for Me
Andria sits in Puglia, in the heel of Italy, and its old market smells like ripe stone fruit and warm bread by nine in the morning. I got there in late August, jetlagged and cranky, having taken a slow regional train from Bari that stopped roughly every seven minutes. The heat was already sitting on the pavement like a wet towel.
Rosa’s stall was two folding tables under a canvas awning. A chalkboard read “crostino con burrata e fichi, 2 EUR” in a leaning hand. She was slicing figs with a paring knife straight into her palm, which made me nervous and then not nervous, in that order.
I ate it standing up. That was the point of the paper wrapper.
Why This Fig Burrata Crostini Belongs to Two Different Italys
The dish sounds like one thing but it is really a marriage of two regions that would probably argue over dinner. Crostini (literally “little crusts”) come from medieval Tuscany, where peasants used stale bread as edible plates and heaped whatever was cheap on top. Burrata is much younger. It was invented in Andria itself, around the 1920s, by the Bianchino family, as a way to save mozzarella scraps by wrapping them around fresh cream.
So what Rosa handed me was a Tuscan idea carrying a Pugliese cheese, topped with figs that had ripened on trees I could probably see from the edge of town. The whole thing is protected now. “Burrata di Andria” carries IGP status, and locals will happily tell you the supermarket stuff you buy elsewhere is a cousin, not the same person.
One thing I did not know until Rosa corrected me. Crostini and bruschetta are not the same. Crostini are smaller, thinner, cut from a baguette-style loaf. Bruschetta is thick country bread. She was very firm about this. I nodded and did not argue with the woman holding the knife.
What I Used
- 1 loaf of rustic Italian bread or a good baguette, day-old is ideal
- 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, the good bottle
- 1 clove garlic, peeled, for rubbing the warm toasts
- 8 ounces fresh burrata, about two balls, at room temperature
- 6 ripe fresh figs, Black Mission or Brown Turkey
- 2 tablespoons wildflower honey
- 1/4 cup aged balsamic vinegar, for the reduction
- 1 teaspoon flaky sea salt, Maldon if you have it
- 1/2 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
- 8 fresh basil leaves, torn, plus small ones for the top
Bringing It Home to My California Kitchen
Back in Los Angeles, the problem was never the recipe. There is almost nothing to a crostino. The problem was the figs. Andria figs in late August taste like someone reduced honey and pressed it into fruit shape. The California ones need scouting.
I find mine at the Hollywood farmers’ market on Sunday mornings, at a stand run by an older man who only sells three things and always sells out by ten. If I miss him I go to the Silver Lake one on Tuesday. In a pinch, Whole Foods, but only Black Mission and only if they actually smell like something when you lift them. If a fig has no smell, it will taste like nothing on the toast. I learned that the expensive way.
The burrata I get at the Italian deli on Sunset near my apartment. They get it in on Wednesdays. So I only make this dish on a Wednesday or Thursday now.
The Timing Is the Whole Trick
This dish punishes impatience in three quiet ways.
First, the burrata has to come out of the fridge twenty to thirty minutes before you plate. Cold burrata is squeaky and dull. Warm burrata, and I mean cool-room-warm, spills open in a way that catches the honey. Do not skip this step.
Second, the balsamic reduction. Pour a quarter cup of good aged vinegar into a small saucepan and simmer on medium-low for four to six minutes, until it coats the back of a spoon. Walk away for one phone call and you have balsamic candy stuck to the pan. My cast iron is fine. My saucepan has a scar. I use the squeeze-bottle “glaze” only when I am tired and no one is watching, and yes, it is fine, but the real reduction is deeper and quieter and worth the five minutes.
Third, the assembly window. Once the toast comes out of the oven, you have maybe eight minutes before the bread starts to soften under the cheese. So I toast last, not first. Bread into a 400 F oven for five to seven minutes, rub the warm tops with the cut side of the garlic clove, spoon the torn burrata across, lay down the fig quarters, drizzle the honey and then a few drops of the balsamic, flaky salt, cracked pepper, basil. Onto the platter. Onto the table.
Eaten standing up, if you want to be honest about it.
Small Twists Worth Knowing
I keep it plain most nights. When friends are over I sometimes drape a thin ribbon of prosciutto di Parma over each one, or scatter a small handful of toasted pistachios for crunch. Both are good. Neither is required.
If figs are out of season, do not reach for jam. Roast halved figs briefly with a splash of balsamic instead. The point of this dish is fresh fruit against cold cream, and jam turns the whole thing into a dessert crostino, which is a different animal. I almost skipped that note. I am glad I did not.
Rosa never wrote her recipe down. I do not think she would have understood the question. But this is close, sent back across an ocean, with fewer flies and slightly better basil.
Fig Burrata Crostini
Ingredients
Equipment
Method
- Take the burrata out of the refrigerator 20 to 30 minutes before serving and let it rest on the counter so the creamy interior softens.
- Pour the balsamic vinegar into a small saucepan and simmer over medium-low heat for 4 to 6 minutes until it thickens and coats the back of a spoon. Remove from the heat and let it cool; it will thicken further as it sits.
- Heat the oven to 400 F or fire up a grill to medium-high. Slice the bread on a sharp diagonal into pieces about half an inch thick.
- Arrange the slices on a sheet pan and brush the tops lightly with the olive oil. Toast for 5 to 7 minutes in the oven, or grill for about 1 minute per side, until the surfaces are golden and crisp but the centers still have a little give.
- While the toasts are still warm, rub the top of each one briefly with the cut side of the garlic clove for a whisper of flavor.
- Tear the burrata open over a bowl and spoon the creamy stracciatella and curd generously onto each crostino, letting it spill slightly over the edges.
- Quarter or thickly slice the fresh figs and arrange 2 or 3 pieces on top of the burrata on each toast.
- Drizzle each crostino with wildflower honey and a few drops of the balsamic reduction. Finish with a pinch of flaky sea salt, a grind of black pepper, and a scatter of torn basil leaves.
- Transfer to a serving platter and eat right away, while the bread is crisp and the burrata is soft and cool.