Anger Burger

I think Non-Cookers are so awed by us Cookers in that they truly believe that we memorize and follow some kind of elaborate instructions.   Am I letting the secret out when I say that we aren’t?  Maybe some of you are.  At least, generally the first two or three times I make a recipe I follow it pretty closely, but even then I’ll skip certain ingredients and automatically — mindlessly, really — reach for others.  And then its a damn free-for-all.

A perfect example of this is spaghetti carbonara.  It’s one of those meals any college student worth their loans should learn, being reasonably cheap, easy, and suitably impressive after a long night of early-relationship fucking¹.

The concept of carbonara is very basic: fry some bacon, throw some cooked pasta in it, and off the heat stir in eggs and cheese and let the residual heat of the pasta turn the egg and cheese into a rich, creamy sauce.  Like chocolate chip cookies, the variations thereafter are endless and personal.  My version includes whole eggs, mostly because I don’t see the point of wasting the whites and also?  Even if the pan is too hot and the whites harden?  It’s still awesome.  Sort of like egg-drop soup, but as pasta.  I also don’t like cream sauces a hell of a lot, but for some reason I like carbonara – it might also be because I add lemon zest and juice along with the vermouth.

Its also a meal that feels pretty good to make.  I don’t know what it is about tossing pasta in a frying pan with a pair of tongs, but when I’m sleepy and hungry and sort of worn out with the whole world, as I was tonight, it becomes a focal point for my brain to calm the fuck down.   It is completely different from and yet not totally unlike approaching a campfire with a hotdog.  This is food, and you’re cooking it.  It’s practically a Neanderthal act.

And it shouldn’t take a genius to figure out that this shit tastes good when you’ve been drinking.  I tried to think of a vegetarian alternative, but I’m afraid I can’t offer one: the bacon and the pork fat seem crucial.  Hopefully when science starts offering vat-grown pig, you vegetarians will be able to share in the miracle.

Carbonara, Give or Take
serves two-ish

1/2 lb. thin spaghetti noodles
1/2 package bacon
2 whole eggs
1/4 C. parmesan cheese
1/4 C. half-n-half or milk
1/3 C. dry vermouth (white wine is fine, too)
an obscene amount of pepper
zest of one small lemon
juice of said small lemon
handful of fresh parsley

• Start a pot of water to boil for the pasta.

• Meanwhile, chop the bacon into smaller pieces and fry up until almost crispy.  Pour off most but not all of the fat and return to the heat.  Add the vermouth and allow it to cook down until it’s pretty much gone.  Turn off the heat.

• Since your water is probably boiling now, add the pasta and start cooking it according to the package.

• While the pasta is cooking, in a small bowl mix the eggs, cheese, cream/milk, pepper, lemon zest, and lemon juice.  Stir vigorously with a fork and set aside.

• The pasta is probably not yet cooked, so pluck off a bunch of parsley leaves and chop it up.

• When the pasta is done, turn the heat off  and then return the bacon to the heat.  I know, you’ll never get this right when you’re drunk, so practice now while you’re sober.  Anyway, with tongs or a pasta spoon, transfer all the pasta to the bacony-frying-pan.  It’ll sizzle a little.   Pour a slosh of the pasta water over it to help the sauce form in a minute.

• Remove the pan from the heat again and stir in the egg-and-cheese mix you made, making sure to actively stir it.  Keep it moving, and it will turn creamy and smooth.  Add the chopped parsley and then taste; even though there is salty bacon and cheese in the pasta, it will very likely need more salt.  It can handle a lot.  Taste, add a pinch, then taste again.  Repeat as needed.

¹That just reminded me of a gross article I read where Katie Holmes bragged that Tom Cruise had wooed her in part by whipping up some amazing carbonara without a recipe:  “He knows exactly how to do it. A pinch of this, a pinch of that. He has a recipe, but he also kind of improvises by himself. You have to do the egg at a certain time.” BLERG.  Gag.  Because you know what she’s talking about.  Also — carbonara isn’t hard.  “You have to do the egg at a certain time”?  It’s like bragging that he knows how to press the toaster button on the toaster right before the bread gets toasted.