Hello Lunch!
As I ponder your mozzarella goodness I am transported my childhood on Easter Island, where my parents had a modest mozzarella farm. Growing up digging in the dirt for the succulent white pearls that only bloom there during late spring were the happiest days of my life. I am getting misty as I write.
The bed of olive oil floating on balsamic vinegar is a gift from Riot Kitty who rescued me from the island hovel made of driftwood and cut marble.
2 comments:
I doubt very much that this is a gift from Riot Kitty - I hear she is quite stingy with fresh mozzarella and its accouterments. In fact I think she has eaten up all of the fresh mozzarella in the world, and this picture is a fake. Surely that is a marshmallow or golf ball posing as a mozzarella boconcino.
mmm...mozzarella...
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