I have had a serious love affair with DeLaurenti in Pike Place Market for quite some time now; it’s the only shop I enter in Seattle and feel a semblance of being back in the land of prosciutto and Gucci (though I do have to ignore many of the uber-American tourists who frequent the market wearing tennis shoes and fanny packs if I want to retain my reverie).  It started when I moved back to Seattle from Torino a few years ago and went on the hunt for bresaola- the most amazing air-cured beef.  In Italy I had eaten it by the etto, almost daily and with reckless abandon.  One of the many things I forgot to factor into my homecoming was the utter absence of bresaola available on stateside soil.  After searching high and low to no avail, DeLaurenti came gleaming onto my radar like a beacon of brilliance.  They handily solved the first of what would become many gustatory jonesings, and I fell in love. 

This summer I went on a big gelato-making jag, and DeLaurenti was the only place in town that carried the super-top-secret-amazing-melt-in-your-mouth-ingredient I needed to make my pistachio flavor pop. They have become my go-to for everything from Marcona almonds to Valrhona chocolate.  When I discovered a while ago that they occasionally make their own burrata should the demand arise, my love affair went to a whole new level and I instantly vowed for better or worse, til death do us part.  Burrata, a cheese that consists of a mozzarella shell that encases the most amazing creamy-ooziness in the core once you slice it open, is the stuff from which dreams are made.  It should literally become global currency, transcending the euro and the yen faster than you can slip in a mouthful and beg for more.  Read more