Oven Baked 4-Ingredient Sweet Corn Burrata Pasta

This Baked corn burrata pasta is the weeknight dinner you’ll keep coming back to — minimal prep, a short ingredient list, and a payoff that tastes like you spent way more time than you did. The cream, corn, and pasta bake together into a rich, saucy dish, and the burrata goes on at the end to melt into all the right places. One dish, under an hour, and the oven does most of the work.

Why You’ll Love It

• Only 4 core ingredients — pasta, corn, burrata, and heavy cream. That’s it.
• No separate sauce to make — everything comes together right in the baking dish.
• On the table in under an hour — with minimal hands-on time while it bakes.
• Works with fresh or frozen corn — no thawing required, which makes it a true any-night option.
• Tastes genuinely impressive — creamy, sweet, lush — nothing about it reads like a shortcut.

A Few Words About the Ingredients

Corn: In July and August, use fresh. I mean it. You can cut the kernels off the cob right over a big bowl — I hold the cob upright and run a knife down the sides, and yes, corn goes everywhere, this is just how it goes — and the flavor is genuinely different from frozen. Sweeter, more milky, more like the thing itself. That said, I make this all winter with frozen corn and it is absolutely fine. Good, even. Don’t thaw it; it’ll water things down.

Burrata: Get it from somewhere that moves through a lot of it. The grocery store I usually go to started carrying it a few years back, which felt like a genuine luxury at the time, and now I’m very spoiled. It should be sold in water or whey in a little container, very fresh. If it smells like anything other than mild, fresh dairy, skip it and use fresh mozzarella instead — same idea, slightly less luxurious, still lovely.

Heavy cream: Don’t substitute. I’ve tried the half-and-half version. It separated and made a sad, watery mess that I tried to serve anyway and then quietly threw away. Just use heavy cream.

Rigatoni: My preference. The tubes catch the cream and corn. Penne or ziti work fine. I’d avoid anything too delicate — the oven is not gentle.

Ingredients

• 12 ounces rigatoni
• 3 cups sweet corn kernels (fresh or frozen — and don’t stress about measuring exactly, an ear of corn or two usually gets you close)
• 8 ounces burrata, drained (two small balls or one large one, either is fine)
• 1 cup heavy cream
• 1½ teaspoons kosher salt
• ½ teaspoon black pepper, freshly ground
• Olive oil for the pan and for drizzling (I use about 2 tablespoons total, but I eyeball it)
• Reserved pasta water, ¼ cup or so, set aside just in case

How to Make It

Heat your oven to 400°F. Oil your baking dish — I use a 9×13 ceramic one I’ve had for at least fifteen years, maybe longer, the kind with the slightly scalloped edges that I bought on sale and have since seen in approximately every kitchen I’ve ever visited.

Get a big pot of well-salted water boiling. Once it’s really going, add the rigatoni and cook it for two to three minutes less than the package says. You want it genuinely underdone — firm in the center, almost crunchy. This is harder than it sounds if you’re used to cooking pasta all the way through. Set a timer. Don’t taste it and convince yourself it’s probably fine. It is not done yet.

While the pasta cooks, add your corn to the oiled baking dish. If you’re cutting fresh corn, do that first — over a bowl is easiest, though I sometimes do it directly into the dish if I’m feeling chaotic, which I always regret a little. Whisk the cream with the salt and pepper in a measuring cup. This is the whole sauce. That’s it. That’s all you’re doing.

Before you drain the pasta, scoop out some cooking water and put it in a cup by the stove. About half a cup, though I rarely use more than a few tablespoons of it.

Drain the pasta, add it to the baking dish, pour the cream over everything, toss to coat. It should look creamy and mostly submerged but not soupy — if it seems dry and stiff, add a splash of pasta water. Cover tight with foil.

Bake eighteen to twenty minutes, until the cream is bubbling at the edges and the pasta is tender. Pull off the foil carefully — steam will come out fast. Tear the burrata into large chunks and nestle them into the pasta. Drizzle with a little olive oil. Back in the oven, uncovered, for five to seven minutes. You’re looking for the burrata to go glossy and slightly oozy. Not browned. Just warmed and starting to melt.

Let it sit for five minutes before you serve it. I know it’s hard. Do it anyway — the sauce tightens up a bit and everything settles, and it’s easier to scoop and it tastes better and you won’t burn your mouth.

Variations Worth Knowing

Fresh basil torn in at the end is a lovely summer addition — keeps it bright against all that cream. A heavy handful of Parmesan scattered on when you add the burrata is good too, though I sometimes think it crowds things out. Your call.

If you want a little heat, a pinch of red pepper flakes in with the cream is nice. Not aggressive. Just a little something.

Storing and Reheating

If there are leftovers — and there usually aren’t, but sometimes — store them covered in the fridge for up to two days. Reheat gently in a low oven or in a saucepan with a splash of cream or milk. The burrata doesn’t really survive overnight in a way that’s going to impress anyone, so if you know you’re making this ahead, hold the burrata and add it fresh when you reheat.

I will admit that I have eaten this cold, the next morning, standing at the open refrigerator. It is not bad. I’m not proud of it, but it’s not bad.

One Last Thing

Serve it family-style, from the baking dish or a big ceramic bowl. Crusty bread is good for chasing the sauce. A green salad with lemon and olive oil is all it really needs. I’ve also put sliced tomatoes alongside it in summer — just tomatoes, a little vinegar, some salt — and it’s a nice, low-effort contrast to all that cream.

This is the honest answer to what I make on Tuesdays when I don’t feel like cooking. And most Tuesdays, that’s enough.