Spread straight on to bread, baked, used in puds or scoffed in lumps, lovely versatile ricotta is a source of joy
I made myself a slice of thick toast, its crumb chewy, its crust as black as soot, then spread the surface with a snowy mound of ricotta and pieces of jelly-fleshed apricot. This treat never quite made it to the table and I ate it while standing at the kitchen counter. Then, a few minutes later, a second piece of bread, this time untoasted with a swirl of the ricotta, its crest pushed down into a hollow deep enough to hold a pool of olive oil. Unmediated, almost spontaneous. Eaten out of pure greed after coming home with a fresh loaf and white cheese as soft as cream.
Ricotta barely makes it as a cheese. Traditionally made from the whey left behind after the curds that will become cheese are removed and start their journey to the maturing room, this is the lightest, gentlest-tasting dairy product, next to milk. It has no body to speak of, and can be spread like whipped cream. I like it with strawberries. You can make ricotta al caffe, the famous desert with ricotta and espresso, or use it in a cheesecake to lighten the mixture of eggs, mascarpone or cream cheese.
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