Ah, Carbonara
When I was about 4, my mother made spaghetti alla carbonara (very exotic at the time) and I *hated* it. I called it "slimy noodles" and taking a cue from George the Hippopotamus, I kicked off my Buster Browns and discretely stuffed a fistful of pasta into each one.
It was not until I was a teenager in Rome that I tasted carbonara again. Oh what a difference! Maybe it was the more mature tastebuds, maybe it was just Rome. : ) The texture was smooth, not slimy, just a touch gritty with cheese, and the occasional morsels of pork like a little treasure. I was converted. And it's funny, since I hate eggs, but it's hardly eggy at all.
It's so hard to find proper carbonara in American restaurants. For some reason, the sauce is usually adulterated with cream. Fie on that! Frequently there are other interlopers like peas, mushroom or onions. I'm not a purist when it comes to the pork -- bacon and pancetta are both all right in my book. I've not knowingly had guanciale, but I certainly wouldn't turn it down.
I was struck with the desire to make carbonara this week after reading this rendition from The Pioneer Woman. Wine? Chicken stock? Butter? What? And all the commenters who were disgusted by the raw eggs.
I mostly use Ruth Reichl's recipe from Garlic and Sapphires.
Start by cooking a pound of spaghetti. While the water is boiling, chop half a pound of bacon into half-inch pieces and peel two cloves of garlic. If you need to grate cheese, do it now. You'll need a half cup of parmesan or pecorino (the later is more Roman), plus more for serving.
Once the pasta is cooking, throw the bacon in a pan. After a couple of minutes, toss in the garlic cloves.
Crack two eggs into a large serving bowl and beat well. Grind in some pepper and put the bowl near the sink. Put the colander in the sink if you haven't done so already.
When the bacon is getting brown and so is the garlic, fish out the garlic. Ms. Reichl says to discard it, but I chop it up and toss it back in the pan just before the bacon's done. The bacon shouldn't be too crispy. If it looks like there's way too much bacon fat, drain some, but not all of it.
The pasta's done! Drain it quickly and immediately dump the noodles into the bowl with the eggs and toss, toss, toss. Pour in the bacon, garlic, & bacon fat. Toss, toss, toss. Add the grated cheese. Toss some more.
Devour happily.
Serves about 4.
It was not until I was a teenager in Rome that I tasted carbonara again. Oh what a difference! Maybe it was the more mature tastebuds, maybe it was just Rome. : ) The texture was smooth, not slimy, just a touch gritty with cheese, and the occasional morsels of pork like a little treasure. I was converted. And it's funny, since I hate eggs, but it's hardly eggy at all.
It's so hard to find proper carbonara in American restaurants. For some reason, the sauce is usually adulterated with cream. Fie on that! Frequently there are other interlopers like peas, mushroom or onions. I'm not a purist when it comes to the pork -- bacon and pancetta are both all right in my book. I've not knowingly had guanciale, but I certainly wouldn't turn it down.
I was struck with the desire to make carbonara this week after reading this rendition from The Pioneer Woman. Wine? Chicken stock? Butter? What? And all the commenters who were disgusted by the raw eggs.
I mostly use Ruth Reichl's recipe from Garlic and Sapphires.
Start by cooking a pound of spaghetti. While the water is boiling, chop half a pound of bacon into half-inch pieces and peel two cloves of garlic. If you need to grate cheese, do it now. You'll need a half cup of parmesan or pecorino (the later is more Roman), plus more for serving.
Once the pasta is cooking, throw the bacon in a pan. After a couple of minutes, toss in the garlic cloves.
Crack two eggs into a large serving bowl and beat well. Grind in some pepper and put the bowl near the sink. Put the colander in the sink if you haven't done so already.
When the bacon is getting brown and so is the garlic, fish out the garlic. Ms. Reichl says to discard it, but I chop it up and toss it back in the pan just before the bacon's done. The bacon shouldn't be too crispy. If it looks like there's way too much bacon fat, drain some, but not all of it.
The pasta's done! Drain it quickly and immediately dump the noodles into the bowl with the eggs and toss, toss, toss. Pour in the bacon, garlic, & bacon fat. Toss, toss, toss. Add the grated cheese. Toss some more.
Devour happily.
Serves about 4.