I guess carbonara is so boring that none of my favorite bloggers bothered to scribble down the recipe.
Let’s clear it now: I come from the North of Italy and here we cannot cook carbonara. We actually do it, but we are hopeless at it. Our carbonara is a slap in the face of our culinary tradition. There was a time when we would make it quite often at home. It was probably when my mother changed job and started arriving after us at home for lunch break. So my brother, my father and I often resorted to humble carbonara to feed our empty stomachs.
I browsed a little on the internet, but found nothing really interesting to mention. At least not in the first pages of google results, then I get bored and flimsy and believe I better rumble myself as if that could be more interesting than what robots have decided is what I am supposed to read (and actually most of the time they choose rather well to my disappointment).
If you want to enjoy a tasty carbonara you should go to central Italy, perhaps in that tiny eternal spot called Rome. I had my first, scrumptious, mouth watering carbonara at Trattoria Cacio e Pepe. I still long for it: nice thick homemade pasta, perfect crispy guanciale on top, floating on a nice cream of fresh eggs and pecorino romano.
So yesterday I was in hurry, had three eggs in my fridge and thought it was a brilliant idea to have some carbonara, given that I had two cavemen coming over for lunch (a little one that has learnt to say “non mi piace pomodoro” (I don’t like tomato) every time I serve him pasta con il pomodoro and a big one that is always hovering over the frying pan and inquiring suspicious on its contents).
Well, it was not so brilliant in the end. First, this recipe will be forever eradicated from my office repertoire. The smell lingers there no matter how much aggressive and totally environmental unfriendly cleaning agents you dispense in the kitchen corner.
Then I made so many gross mistakes.I have just learned today, thanks to the internet, that you do not purchase pancetta as I have done, but guanciale. I always thought we could not cook pancetta properly. Now I understand why, we were not buying the right ingredient! I actually wonder if I can get guanciale here.
Actually my problem with carbonara are raw eggs. Now, as we are blasphemous northerners, we used to cook our eggs and get a sort of frittata. Given that even we liked creamier results, oh dear, we would add panna (cream) to it. Do not tell anyone, this is a big secret.
The best thing I have learnt in Roma, is that pecorino romano is wonderful over pasta. Thank you pecorino romano for saving my frittata carbonara.
It was a pity that I had to depart sooner than planned from my meal because my beautiful toddler decided to throw the paper bin on top of it and has torn the plate in two pieces scattering bacon fat all over my Persian rug, but alas, I guess I have saved a few calories. Thanks to the Persians that make lovely colorful rugs otherwise now I would be miserable.