Grilled Peach and Burrata Salad with Hot Honey and Basil is what a Brooklyn chef set down in front of me at a barn outside Hudson, New York, last August. I was supposed to be making a quick gas-and-coffee stop on the drive back to JFK. I left three hours later, full.
The roadside place was a farm stand with a kitchen attached. Hand-painted sign, peaches in flats out front, the smell of warm fruit hanging in the open air. I pulled over because the line of cars looked promising and because I had eaten nothing since breakfast.
How I Stumbled Into a Hudson Valley Private Dinner
Inside, a woman behind the counter looked me up and down and said the chef was doing a private prix-fixe in the barn around back, and one couple had cancelled, and did I want their seats. I said yes before I had the math on it. She slid open a screen door and there I was. Eight strangers at a long wooden table.
He was visiting from Brooklyn. His own place was closed for the week and he was running pop-ups in his cousin’s farm barn. He came around to the table with a wide platter and just set it down in the middle. Did not say a word about it. He let us figure it out.
A Brooklyn Chef and a Pile of Peaches
What he set down was Grilled Peach and Burrata Salad with Hot Honey and Basil. Charred halves of yellow peach, two big balls of burrata torn open and bleeding cream, hot honey running into the grooves the grill had left in the fruit. Big green basil leaves on top. Flaky salt I could see from a few seats away.
I took one bite and asked who made the honey. He grinned and said Mike’s. He had been buying it since the early 2010s, before every wine bar in America had a jar on the shelf.
I learned a few things at that table. Mike Kurtz started Mike’s Hot Honey in Brooklyn in 2010 after tasting chili-infused honey at a Swiss-owned pizzeria in Brazil. It is not a Brazilian folk tradition. It is one guy from Brooklyn who paid attention. And the burrata he was using was Burrata di Andria, the PGI-protected one from Puglia, made the way Lorenzo Bianchino first did it around 1956 to use up leftover mozzarella curd with cream.
So it is not a traditional Italian salad. Not really. It is a modern American summer plate built on a Pugliese cheese and a Brooklyn condiment, riffing on insalata caprese. I love that about it.
Bringing the Grilled Peach Salad Home
I got back to my apartment two days later, hauled a flat of peaches home from the Sunday market on Fairfax, and tried to rebuild it. The peaches there are honestly as good as the ones I had in upstate New York. Maybe better. Heresy, probably.
First attempt I picked peaches that were too soft. They collapsed on the grill into something closer to jam. Lesson learned. Fragrant at the stem, slight give when you press, no further. Hard peaches will not caramelize and mushy peaches will not hold their shape. There is about a day’s window per peach. Get it wrong and you have stew.
Second thing I learned. Cold burrata is rubbery and almost flavorless. You have to pull it out of the fridge thirty minutes before you plan to eat. That is the rule. Half an hour on the counter and the inside relaxes into something silky.
What I Used
- Four ripe yellow peaches, picked up from the Fairfax farmers market, fragrant at the stem
- Two balls of burrata, around eight ounces each, Burrata di Andria when I can find it at the Italian shop on Larchmont
- Three tablespoons of good olive oil, split between the peaches and the finishing drizzle
- Three tablespoons of Mike’s Hot Honey, the original, not the extra hot
- A loose half cup of basil leaves, torn at the last second
- Maldon salt, the flaky stuff, never table salt here
- Freshly cracked black pepper
Grilling and Building the Platter
Heat your grill or cast iron pan until it is properly hot. Mine is the cast iron my mum built up over twenty years before she passed it to me. It can take serious heat without complaining.
Halve the peaches along the seam, twist, and pop out the pits. Brush the cut sides with olive oil. Lay them face down on the hot grates.
Now stay close. Inside the pan something nice is happening. The peach’s sugars are touching iron at high heat, water is flashing off the surface, fructose is browning and turning slightly bitter at the edges in the best possible way. The grooves of the grill are caramelizing into dark lines. Two and a half minutes is usually right. Three at the most. Flip onto the skin side for another two minutes, mostly just to warm the fruit through.
Lay the peach halves cut-side up on a big platter. Do not arrange them like a magazine. Just nudge them into a happy crowd. Tear the burrata with your hands over the peaches so the cream and stracciatella spills exactly where you want it. Do not slice burrata. You waste half the inside on the cutting board.
Drizzle the hot honey heavily. More than you think. Then the last spoonful of olive oil. Tear the basil over everything at the very end so it does not blacken. Flaky salt. Black pepper. I always toss this kind of salad. Except not this one. Tossing tears the burrata and bruises the peaches. Compose, do not toss.
Twists, Wine, and Why You Eat It Now
I have done this with grilled apricots when peaches were not at their best in late June. Smaller, more tart, fine but not as good. I tried nectarines once. They have less perfume and I missed it.
A few thin slices of prosciutto di Parma laid alongside is excellent. Grilled sourdough underneath turns it into a proper light dinner. A cold glass of Vermentino or a dry rosé and you are done.
This does not keep. Make it and eat it. Leftover burrata in the fridge overnight goes sad and the peaches weep. Cold leftovers, eaten standing up at the counter the next morning. Honestly still pretty good. I take it back.
That is the whole story. A roadside stop, a chef who would not explain his food, a jar of Brooklyn honey, and the best fifteen-minute thing I make all summer.
Grilled Peach And Burrata Salad With Hot Honey And Basil
Ingredients
Equipment
Method
- Pull the burrata from the refrigerator and let it sit on the counter for 30 minutes before you plan to serve. Room-temperature burrata releases its creamy interior properly when torn.
- Heat an outdoor grill or cast iron grill pan over high heat until very hot, about 5 minutes. Clean and lightly oil the grates so the peaches do not stick.
- Halve each peach along the natural seam and twist to separate. Remove the pits with a paring knife.
- Brush the cut sides of the peaches generously with 2 tablespoons of the olive oil.
- Place the peaches cut-side down on the hot grill. Sear undisturbed for 2 to 3 minutes until deep grill marks form and the sugars caramelize.
- Turn the peaches and grill on the skin side for another 2 minutes. They should be warm through but still hold their shape. Transfer to a plate.
- Arrange the warm peach halves cut-side up across a large serving platter.
- Tear the burrata open over the peaches with your hands so the stracciatella and cream spill out and pool between the fruit. Do not slice it.
- Drizzle the hot honey generously over the peaches and burrata, then finish with the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil.
- Scatter the torn basil leaves over the top. Finish with flaky sea salt and freshly cracked black pepper.
- Serve immediately while the peaches are still warm and the burrata is creamy at room temperature.