Coal Miner’s Fodder

My introduction to spaghetti alla carbonara was nothing less than ignoble. In the early ‘90s, I encountered the recipe in a low-fat, low-cholesterol cookbook I had borrowed from my friend Diane, a stick-thin Stairmaster mistress. Diane, who has an impeccable palate, nonetheless wanted slim-down versions of her favorite dishes during the week so that she could splurge on the real thing during weekends.

The recipe--which in its unadulterated form is rich with eggs, pancetta, grated cheese and plenty of freshly ground pepper--was an anemic version of itself. The final dish was a concoction of egg-substitute, artificial bacon bits and low-fat grated cheese. After a few bites, I decided to steer clear of the dish--and the book.

Five years later, on a trip to Italy, several friends and I were dining at Vecchia Roma, on the Piazza Campitelli in Rome, and there on the menu was spaghetti alla carbonara. I was resolute in my aversion, and instead ordered risotto with shrimp and whitefish--utterly delicious, but like an ABBA song, I couldn’t get carbonara out of my head.

A week later in Bellagio in the Lake Como region, it appeared again on the menu of a small lakeside restaurant whose name I can’t remember, thanks to a bottle of Franciacorta spumante. I was going to pass it up until I read its description.

“Alla carbonara,” the menu said, means “in the manner of the coal miners.” According to legend, the dish was popular with miners because the few ingredients could easily be carried or, in the case of eggs, pocketed from henhouses on the way to work. When appetites knocked, a simple campfire in the woods was all that was needed to make an elegant meal. The liberal use of pepper is considered a modern-day metaphor for the specks of coal that would inevitably drop from the miners’ clothing onto the plates of pasta.

A sucker for a good story, I committed myself to finding the best spaghetti alla carbonara our trip had to offer. From Bellagio to Milan to Venice, I ordered the same dish, and each time something different was placed in front of me. Some contained cream; others, wild boar; still others had the temerity to sport sauteed onions and garlic, which tipped the balance of flavors.

After arriving home and discovering I had gained 14 pounds (the hazards of research), I briefly entertained the idea of Diane’s denuded version from years ago. But the real thing in all its iterations had wooed me and won. Would someone pass the Parmigiano-Reggiano, please?

*

Spaghetti alla Carbonara

Serves 4

1 tablespoon olive oil

6 ounces thickly sliced pancetta, diced into 1/4-inch pieces

2 tablespoons salt

1 pound spaghetti

3 eggs plus 1 egg yolk, well beaten

3/4 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano combined with 1/4 cup grated Pecorino Romano

3/4 cup of boiling pasta water

Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

In a large skillet, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add pancetta and cook, stirring often, until it is crisp. Set pan aside.

Bring 6 quarts of water to a boil. Add the salt and the spaghetti and cook until al dente. Drain, reserving the 3/4 cup of pasta water, and return pasta while it’s very hot to the pan, set over very low heat. Immediately add the eggs, half the cheese, reserved pancetta and any rendered fat, and toss well. Add just enough of the pasta water to make the mixture creamy. Sprinkle liberally with pepper and serve at once. Pass the remaining cheese at the table.

*

David Leite last wrote for the magazine about Sno Balls.