Eat your
hearts out: I'm in Italy. If all goes as scheduled (she says, checking
the itinerary that somebody else put together) today I'll be in a villa somewhere
north of Florence, touring the Chini pottery museum and listening to lectures
on Renaissance Humanism and Italian Villas of the Renaissance, or
"chilling out" or taking a siesta (both items included on the
schedule). And eating a lot.
When I was
growing up my mother did not cook anything ethnic. It's a wonder she cooked at all, since her
mother never learned. She did well with
meat/starch/veg, but there were seldom sauces involved. I don't think I saw her make a basic
spaghetti sauce until I was well into my twenties.
She and my
father ate out (now and then we kiddies would be included, on our best behavior),
but mainly in "Continental" restaurants in New York. When we children were included we'd go to
Trader Vic's (pupu platter!) or occasionally Mama Leone's (where Ed Sullivan
was said to dine, not that we ever saw him).
For lunch it was The Women's Exchange or Robert Day Dean's or
Rumplemayer's. On a couple of memorable
occasions, we were taken to Peacock Alley at the Waldorf Hotel. Apart from the
pupu platter I can't remember anything I ate at any of them.
Isn't it a
wonder I grew up loving to cook? I'll be
the first to admit that I didn't "get" it until my first trip to
Europe, the year I was 21. I didn't
visit Italy until the following year, but I'd broken the ice by then. One seminal moment that I remember well: stopping at a street vendor for an ice cream,
on my first day in Florence. I had no
clue what half the flavors were, so I boldly said, "nocciola." One taste and I knew immediately: hazelnut.
In fact, incredible hazelnut. It
was amazing, and I've never forgotten the Italian word. In fact, about the half
of my Italian vocabulary comes from food terms (the other half is from art
history, although one is seldom called upon to use terms such as chiaroscuro or sfumato in ordinary conversation).
Most of the
Italian cooking I've done comes from only one or two well-used cookbooks: the Sunset Italian Cook Book (1972), which I bought first, and Marcella
Hazan's The Classic Italian Cookbook
(1973). I'll admit I haven't been very
adventurous, and the recipes I've used most often have been for pasta sauces (I
gave you one for a vegetable cream sauce in an earlier post here) or simple
pasta dishes. Once my household
discovered pesto, we've eaten it once or twice a month. Spaghetti alla carbonara is another
favorite. (Guess what: my husband makes both!) They're quick and simple dishes, as long as
you have the ingredients (fresh basil is a must for pesto!).
Spaghetti
alla carbonara is a handy recipe because you can use up all the bits and pieces
of sausage, bacon, ham, etc., that you have on hand. If you want to be authentic, you can use
prosciutto or pancetta, both more widely available in American markets than it
was back when I started making this. One
more note: this dish involves raw
eggs. Ideally the heat of the cooked
spaghetti will cook the eggs. There have
been concerns about the safety of undercooked eggs, but I think these have been
addressed by people who raise chickens.
If you have any issues, you might want to avoid this dish, but if you're
an "over-easy" egg eater, go for it!
Spaghetti
alla carbonara
¼ pound
mild pork sausage
¼ pound
prosciutto/pancetta/ham, diced
4 Tblsp
butter
½ pound
spaghetti (half a box, usually), cooked and drained
½ cup
parsley, minced
3
well-beaten eggs
½ cup
grated Parmesan cheese
Black
pepper
Dice the
meat and sauté it in half the butter over medium-low heat (you don't want it to be crisp).
Cook your
spaghetti according to your taste. Drain
it and return it to the cooking pot, then immediately add the cooked meats, the
rest of the butter, and the parsley. Mix
to blend.
Quickly
pour in the beaten eggs and lift and toss to coat the spaghetti evenly. Sprinkle on the cheese, add pepper, and toss
again. Serve immediately. Mangia!
I am
informed that on my trip I will have the opportunity to sample regional Italian
delicacies such as farinata, garganelli, trofie and sgabei. I have no clue what they are, but I'll find
out!
