This is the kind of recipe that walks into your life on a summer Wednesday evening and never leaves. Twenty-three minutes, two pots, and you end up with something that looks like what you’d order at a beach restaurant at noon. Pearl pasta with peas and burrata—that’s it.
In the bowl, the tiny round pasta rolls under the fork, still warm, coated in a bright green oil—not the pale green of a too-tame salad, but the intense green of a June garden. Peas slide in, firm to the bite. The burrata sits in the center, white as fresh milk, waiting to be pierced and spill over everything. It smells of fresh herbs, just a hint of garlic, and that citrusy edge that makes you want to dive in.
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