For me, there is nothing as satisfying as a perfectly executed burrata, accompanied by basil, beets and pistachios, dressed simply with a glug of good olive oil and sprinkled with salt. Che Fico Parco Menlo rose to the occasion last week at brunch after I had ordered a chopped salad that was precariously packed with peppery salami, peppery cheese, pepperoncini and chickpeas, seasoned with a black peppery vinaigrette. After three bites, accompanied by a three-alarm fire called in by my mouth, which had decided to spare my stomach the aftermath, the accommodating server offered to replace it with something I could actually eat. This is a sign of hospitality, and it is much appreciated. The burrata was perfect.

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