Like most Italians, Turin-born Andrea Cavaliere knows much about mozzarella, loves it with unbridled affection and isn’t hesitant to express strong thoughts about it.
He insists that the best time to eat the cheese is the very day it’s made, before it spends even a minute in the refrigerator. When fortunate enough to encounter such freshness, he will tear open a ball to look for a small drop of milk in the center. Every Italian, Cavaliere says, knows that this little dot, as precious as a pearl, is a hallmark of the best mozzarellas. He also understands, almost intuitively, how to best use mozzarella, matching preparations to the cheese so that both are seen in the very best light.
After moving to Los Angeles to open Cecconi’s, an upscale Italian restaurant in West Hollywood, Cavaliere was caught off guard by the passion for mozzarella in his new market. “I was shocked,” he said. “In L.A., there is mozzarella on every single menu,” he notes.
Americans long have had an affinity for mozzarella, a creamy cheese made by kneading fresh curds then pulling and stretching them into balls. What’s changed in the last five years is the number of options available domestically. While firm mozzarellas, both skim- and whole-milk versions so familiar on pizza, still sell briskly, cheese enthusiasts are fully under the spell of fresh, artisanal styles, be it di bufala, made with buffalo milk, fior di latte, a handmade cow’s milk version, or burrata, bundles of fresh mozzarella enriched with cream and stracciatelle, the “rags” of curds that remain after making mozzarella.
Yet even at its most extravagant, mozzarella remains an uncomplicated cheese, easy to love—and put to work in the kitchen.
Easy Does It
At Ceccioni’s, Cavaliere is a purist when serving the precious mozzarella di bufala he flies in from southern Italy’s Campania, the region surrounding Naples. “All you need is a little oil, a little sea salt,” he says. “If you do a salad, you don’t use any vinegar. You don’t add acidity. You don’t add pepper.” A slice of fresh truffle, though, would be a permissible extravagance, he conceded. Anything more threatens to mask the cheese’s distinct, delicate flavor.
With locally made fior di latte, however, he’s not so gentle. “I chop it, drain it and dry it,” he says of the cheese whose name translates to “flower of the milk.” He uses this type of mozzarella exclusively for baked preparations, he explains. The extra steps prevent the cheese from releasing too much water during cooking. Once drained, Cavaliere uses fior di latte to top pizzas or pastas, including potato gnocchi baked in tomato sauce.
Bigger, Bolder, Better
Chef Suzanne Tracht is just as enthusiastic about mozzarella, but, unlike Cavaliere, the chef/owner of Jar in Los Angeles doesn’t shy away from pairing the milky white cheese with bold flavors.
Several years ago, she invited pastry chef and baker Nancy Silverton to her restaurant kitchen on Mondays to create dishes for two forthcoming mozzarella-centric restaurants. The weekly sessions proved so popular that even after Silverton left to open Pizzeria Mozza and Osteria Mozza, “Mozzarella Monday” carries on at Jar. “It’s a fun way of eating,” Tracht concedes.
Her Monday menus flaunt more than a dozen dishes so Tracht can afford to be more aggressive with seasonings. This can mean toasted brioche topped with a fried egg and topped with melted cow’s milk mozzarella and vibrantly spiced North African chile paste. She also features Anaheim chiles, stuffed with mozzarella and salami, that then are battered and pan-fried.
While she sticks with locally made mozzarella, she has preferences. “Burrata is my favorite, especially ricotta burrata,” she says. Describing the cheese, she says it is similar to classic burrata, but rather than being stuffed with cream and shreds of mozzarella curd, it’s filled with ricotta. She especially likes it with braised artichoke hearts.
Rising Stars
Tracht isn’t the only chef who has a culinary soft spot for burrata. “It’s a rock star,” says Victor Casanova, the chef at Culina, the restaurant within the Four Seasons Los Angeles hotel in Beverly Hills. He says how the cheese is made—in small batches and by local producers—leads to its alluringly fresh flavor. His preferred preparation is drizzled with olive oil and seasoned with a pinch of salt, ready for pairing with grilled, garlic-rubbed bread. “I don’t like to mess with it too much,” he reasons.
Casanova also serves supplì al telefono, a classic Roman fritter—similar to arancini--in which risotto is shaped into balls. A bit of mozzarella is tucked in the center before they are breaded and fried. While Casanova uses imported di bufala mozzarella, he notes that other types can be used with great success. (The dish gained its named for the strings of cheese resembling a telephone cord that form when the rice balls are pulled apart.)
Casanova is quick to note that the preparation takes advantage of another lifelong American love: fried cheese. “It opens doors,” he admits. “It appeals to a lot of people.”