Advertisement
Story ProgressBack to home

Opting out on turkey with pasta carbonara Recipe

Opting out on turkey with pasta carbonara

    Ingredients of Opting out on turkey with pasta carbonara

      How to Make Opting out on turkey with pasta carbonara

      HideShow Media
      1.
      Calvin Trillin does not like turkey. He has called it "basically something college dormitories use to punish students for hanging around on Sunday." In 1981, he suggested in The New Yorker that Americans gather around the Thanksgiving table for an unlikely substitute: pasta carbonara. He imagined that it was served at the first Thanksgiving, confounding both the Indians and the Pilgrims, who declared it "heretically tasty" and "the work of the devil."
      2.
      This has yet to catch on. But he did capture something of the spirit of carbonara.
      3.
      Unlike healthful but often bland turkey, it is not a puritanical dish; it is a deli egg-bacon-and-cheese-on-a-roll that has been pasta-fied, fancified, fetishized and turned into an Italian tradition that, like many inviolate Italian traditions, is actually far less old than the Mayflower.
      4.
      Because America may have contributed to its creation, carbonara is Exhibit A in the back-and-forth between Italy and the United States when it comes to food.
      5.
      Carbonara also inspires strong, almost religious, passions, particularly about what exactly it is. Trillin's recipe - pancetta, fontina and prosciutto - would be scoffed at in Rome. But according to one Italian food historian, there are at least 400 versions, from the most classic Roman to variations that are delicious but drive traditionalists mad.
      6.
      Though Trillin did not address the subject, carbonara can be tricky to make well, partly because it is so simple: at base, egg, cheese, cured pork, pasta and black pepper. There is little margin for error. I learned this to my great embarrassment at a poolside party a few years ago with a bunch of posh Italians and their sunburned, hungry children.
      7.
      My wife has more confidence in my cooking skills than I do. When we were posted in Italy (I was the New York Times correspondent in Rome), she volunteered me to make carbonara at a party one summer afternoon in Tuscany. The host was a contessa, the mother of one of our sons' school friends. I am American, and I could tell most of the guests did not hold much hope.
      8.
      I hadn't made much carbonara before and told her, "I'm nervous."
      9.
      She said, "You should be."
      10.
      It all went terribly. It was too hot for most Italians to enjoy heavy carbonara. I didn't bring enough guanciale, the cured pig cheeks that for many Italians have become indispensable for carbonara. I had to chuck in some pancetta (pork belly as opposed to cheek) that the host had in the fridge. For this crowd, pancetta simply was not done. I botched the eggs to the point that they were scrambled.
      11.
      No Italian adult would touch it, except the contessa, who did so with well-bred, fork-plucking politeness. But the children gobbled it down because - and this is the curse and the key to carbonara - eggs, bacon, cheese and pasta taste great, almost no matter what. It's worth the effort, though, to get right, and that's what I've striven for since, to the point of curing my own guanciale at home, which is less difficult than it sounds. No obsession here, I swear. Carbonara also inspires obsessiveness.
      12.
      "If I had to pick five dishes I would take to the grave with me, this would be one," said Fred Plotkin, the food historian and author of "Italy for the Gourmet Traveler." "It's so good, and if I'm going to the grave I don't have to worry about cholesterol."
      13.
      We can stipulate that carbonara is not health food, but now and then, it's hard to resist. The harder question is which carbonara you would take to the other side. One with guanciale, pancetta or plain bacon? Only pecorino cheese, made from sheep's milk? Or is a bit of Parmesan OK? Peas or not? Onion? Whole eggs or yolks?
      14.
      Or, heaven forbid, the ingredient that most divides devotees of a dish that, above all, aims for creaminess: actual cream?
      15.
      "No cream!" barked Andrea Dal Monte, a Roman and the owner of Campo de' Fiori in the Brooklyn borough of New York City, who used to be a manager and sommelier at the celebrated Del Posto in Manhattan. These were the first words out of his mouth, followed by many, many more.
      16.
      One problem is that the exact origin of carbonara is unknown, which leaves room for endless variations and opinions.
      17.
      What seems clear is that carbonara, like many so-called old standards in Italy, is a fairly new invention. Al dente pasta became the benchmark relatively recently. Pizza was often considered revolting, some food historians say, until Queen Margherita of Savoy sanctified it in a trip to Naples in 1889, inspiring the name of the most famous pizza. Some old Italian cookbooks treat even garlic with suspicion.
      18.
      Tradition is often invoked in Italy, but often it means what you kind of like or what Mamma made.
      19.
      There is a lovely story that carbonara was created by fetching Roman ladies hoping to lure U.S. soldiers at the end of World War II, whipping up a U.S. breakfast into pasta. There is, alas, not much evidence, and much dispute that the U.S. had anything to do with it. As Plotkin notes, many dishes in Roman cooking are close to carbonara, if not in that exact combination.
      20.
      Emilio Dente Ferracci, an Italian food historian and son of a great Roman cook, Anna Dente of Osteria di San Cesario outside Rome, has collected scores of stories of how carbonara came to be: He doesn't believe it existed before 1944, based on cookbooks and Roman menus. He does think that, in the deprived days after the war, Romans used U.S. food aid (bacon and powdered egg yolks) to gussy up pasta dishes.
      21.
      "The Americans left, and the Romans perfected the recipe," Ferracci wrote in an email.
      22.
      "Instead of bacon, pancetta or still better, guanciale; in place of powered egg yolks, fresh eggs; and for the cheese, pecorino Romano."
      23.
      "While in other parts of Italy and the world, garlic, onion, butter or cream are added, in Rome these ingredients are forbidden," he said. "There are only five permitted ingredients: pasta, guanciale, egg yolk, pecorino Romano and black pepper."
      24.
      And so, "tradition," or so it seems, was born. And the starting point for an argument: As much as many Italians love their connection with America (what would their cooking be without New World crops like tomatoes, potatoes and corn?), many are mightily skeptical that we can offer more than raw materials.
      25.
      "The suggestion that Americans had something do with it is enough to inspire frustrations, among other things," said Mark R. Ladner, the executive chef at Del Posto.
      26.
      Ladner is largely a traditionalist. But his carbonara deviates with a half-and-half mixture of pecorino and Parmesan. For reasons he is not sure of, he also adds scallions at the end. When Dal Monte worked at Del Posto, he refused, as a proud Roman, to touch it with anything green.
      27.
      Andrew Carmellini, the chef and owner of Locanda Verde in Manhattan, studied cooking in Italy but has gone his own way, while keeping true to the dish's nature. In his version, which he calls Spaghetti Friuliano, after the region in Italy where part of his family comes from, he uses speck, which is like prosciutto, as well as onions, cabbage, eggs, smoked pecorino from Sardinia and, yes, cream. He even finishes it with a little grappa.
      28.
      An unapologetic apostate ("I'm going to get angry emails," he said as he made it one recent night), he invokes science for the use of cream: It makes it less likely, he said, for the eggs to scramble under the heat of the fat and pasta. That is vital, he added, in a dish that is either great or wrecked right at the end.
      29.
      "This dish really is about the last three minutes," he said.
      30.
      Here are a few other tips for making this simple but difficult dish, from experts and years of trying to redeem my contessa debacle. Remember: The main goal is creaminess, with or without it.
      31.
      As with everything in Italian cooking, use the best ingredients you can afford.
      32.
      Carbonara is best made in small batches, probably no more than four servings. This, by the way, makes it an unlikely Thanksgiving meal. Sorry, Calvin.
      33.
      Bring the eggs to room temperature.
      34.
      Spaghetti is the choice of traditionalists, but any pasta that holds the sauce, like rigatoni or bucatini, can work.
      35.
      Slice the guanciale, pancetta or bacon to about the size of your pinkie's nail. Let it sizzle over medium heat just until the fat renders. Do not let it get too crispy.
      36.
      Some experts suggest not oversalting the pasta water. It is often used to moisten the pasta, and guanciale and cheese are plenty salty.
      37.
      Avoid scrambling the eggs. Chefs use various techniques, and this is mine when cooking for more than one: Warm a large serving bowl with hot water, then empty it just as the pasta is ready. Turn the heat off the guanciale, and stir in the drained pasta, covering with the fat and meat and cooking for a minute or two. Add all this to the warmed bowl, then quickly stir in the eggs and cheese. Add pasta water if needed.
      38.
      Don't skimp on the pepper.
      39.
      Eat right away. Part of the dish's mystery is that it's good for only a few minutes. For all the fuss.
      40.
      Spaghetti Carbonara
      41.
      Time: 25 minutes
      42.
      43.
      Salt
      44.
      2 large eggs and 2 large yolks, room temperature
      45.
      1 ounce (about 1/3 packed cup) grated pecorino Romano, plus additional for serving
      46.
      1 ounce (about 1/3 packed cup) grated Parmesan
      47.
      Coarsely ground black pepper
      48.
      1 tablespoon olive oil
      49.
      1/4 pound slab guanciale, pancetta or bacon, sliced into pieces about 1/4-inch thick by
      50.
      1/3-inch square
      51.
      12 ounces spaghetti (about 3/4 box)
      52.
      1. Place a large pot of lightly salted water (no more than 1 tablespoon salt) over high heat, and bring to a boil. Fill a large bowl with hot water, and set aside.
      53.
      2. In a mixing bowl, whisk together the eggs, yolks and pecorino and Parmesan. Season with a pinch of salt and generous black pepper.
      54.
      3. Set the water to boil. Meanwhile, heat oil in a large skillet over medium heat, add the pork, and saute until the fat just renders, on the edge of crispness but not hard. Remove from heat and set aside.
      55.
      4. Add pasta to the water and boil until a bit firmer than al dente. Just before pasta is ready, reheat guanciale in skillet, if needed. Reserve 1 cup of pasta water, then drain pasta and add to the skillet over low heat. Stir for a minute or so.
      56.
      5. Empty serving bowl of hot water. Dry it and add hot pasta mixture. Stir in cheese mixture, adding some reserved pasta water if needed for creaminess. Serve immediately, dressing it with a bit of additional grated pecorino and pepper.
      57.
      Yield: 4 servings
      58.
      Spaghetti Friuliano
      59.
      Adapted from Andrew Carmellini, Locanda Verde
      60.
      Time: 25 minutes
      61.
      62.
      Salt
      63.
      3 large egg yolks
      64.
      1/2 cup heavy cream
      65.
      1 pound spaghetti
      66.
      2 tablespoons butter
      67.
      1 large onion, halved and thinly sliced
      68.
      4 ounces (about 1/2 cup) sliced speck, cut into short ribbons
      69.
      4 cups shredded savoy cabbage
      70.
      3/4 teaspoon ground juniper
      71.
      1 1/2 teaspoons coarsely ground black pepper, or as needed
      72.
      1/2 cup grappa
      73.
      1/2 cup grated fiore sardo or similar aged sheep's milk cheese, plus additional for serving
      74.
      1. Bring a large pot of salted water (2 to 3 tablespoons salt per gallon) to a rolling boil. Meanwhile, in a small bowl, whisk together the egg yolks and heavy cream.
      75.
      2. Add the spaghetti to the boiling water and cook until al dente (usually about a minute less than the package recommends). In a large saucepan over medium heat, melt the butter. Add onions and saute until beginning to soften, about 2 minutes. Add speck and saute for another minute. Add cabbage and saute for 2 minutes. Add juniper, pepper and half the grappa. Stir well.
      76.
      3. When pasta is ready, reserve about a cup of the cooking water. Drain pasta and add to pan with the cabbage mixture. Add the egg and cream mixture and cook over medium heat for about 1 minute. Add just enough of the reserved cooking water to make a creamy sauce; all may not be needed. Turn off heat and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
      77.
      4. Add 1/2 cup of the cheese and remaining grappa. Stir well. Serve with additional cheese.
      78.
      Yield: 4 to 6 servings
      79.
      © 2012 New York Times News Service
      80.
      81.
      82.
      Advertisement
      Language
      Dark / Light mode