Dinner Desperation Turns into Dinner Delight

In a rare occurence, I knew what we were going to have for dinner. I was going to make one of our go-to favorite dinners, pasta alla carbonara, with some of Dave's freshly made bacon. It's simple matter of boiling water (duh!) frying bacon, stirring up some eggs and a little parmesan, then mixing it all together with whatever pasta was on hand.

And that's where dinner took a sudden left-hand turn.

There was no pasta. I looked around for someone, or something, to blame. Had our son sneaked in a midnight snack with the last box of penne? Had one of the dogs dragged off a package and buried it under the couch cushions? Maybe the cat…but then I remembered I'd made a mental note to write "pasta" on the grocery list but was momentarily, and apparently permanently, distracted by who-knows-what (A glass of wine? A clump of dog hair? A shiny object?) on my way to write it down.

A quick trip to the store crossed my mind, but the grumbling of the family's stomachs made it clear that sooner was going to be preferable to later. So I punted. I turned off the pot of pasta water, grabbed half an onion, chopped it quickly then did a speedy sauté in a sauce pan, added rice, then started ladeling in stock until the rice was just past crunchy.

The idea was to roughly replicate a dish we used to make with rice that called for cooking the rice with onion and stock, then stirring in eggs when the rice was nearly cooked to make a soft, fluffy mass reminiscent of cheesy grits or risotto or…well, dinner.

After stirring in the garlic and bacon, adding the eggs and stirring some more, what came out might not have been our beloved carbonara, but something different and actually worth playing around with some more. Maybe some spring peas, or blanched asparagus pieces? A sprinkling of garden herbs? I'll keep you posted.

Risotto alla Carbonara

1/2 lb. bacon, sliced in 1/4" strips
1 Tbsp. garlic
1/4 c. white wine or dry vermouth
2 whole eggs
2 egg yolks
1/2 c. parmesan, finely grated, plus more for sprinkling at the table
1/2 onion, chopped fine
3 Tbsp. olive oil, or a combination of butter and oil
2 c. arborio or other short-grained white rice
5 c. chicken stock

Fry bacon strips in frying pan until fat is rendered but the bacon is still tender. Add garlic and wine and bring to a brief boil. Remove from heat.

In a small mixing bowl, combine eggs, egg whites and parmesan. Set aside.

In large saucepan melt oil and butter over medium heat. Add onion and sauté till it is translucent. Add rice and sauté briefly, 1-2 min. Add stock one ladel-full at a time, stirring regularly, until rice is al dente, just past the crunchy stage. Remove from heat and add bacon mixture, stirring thoroughly, then the egg mixture. Adjust salt to taste and serve.

A Really Great Day

The e-mail's subject line was enough to grab my attention: "Oink oink."

Turns out my friend Matt Berson, winemaker under his own Love and Squalor and Behemoth labels, had bought half a pig from Chris and Amy at Square Peg Farm and was looking for some moral support. He'd observed a couple of other butcherings, and taken the hands-on pig butchering class from Melinda at Portland's Culinary Workshop, but this was his first solo effort.

I told him I'd only butchered a pig once under close supervision, but he said the company would be helpful, so I was (more than) happy to come and lend a hand. I climbed the stairs at his friend Matt Johnson's Secret Society and up to the kitchen where Peg the pig (named after its former home) was waiting on a long table.

After consulting a couple of online resources, Matt set to work cutting it into the large primal sections, leaving the leg in a single piece for prosciutto. The jowl came off, then the belly, a nice long slab of bacon-to-be. We threw scraps of meat and fat into a bin for sausage, then after removing the backbone and dividing the rib sections, I had to leave Matt to do the rest of the piecework since I was meeting my friend Kathryn for a lunch date.

Kevin was just turning the "CLOSED" sign around as I got to Evoe, so I grabbed two seats at the prep table, the better to observe the chopping, shaving and mixing of the ingredients that makes this place my personal choice for the best restaurant in town. By the time I'd perused the chalkboard with the day's offerings, Kathryn had arrived and we promptly ordered two house-made elderflower spritzers and the pickle plate.

Knowing as I do that Kathryn's appetite for Kevin's food is as prodigious as mine, despite the fact that she is (quite astonishingly) petite, we set about ordering. Nettle dumplings with cream (left) were the essence of spring, three light-as-a-feather quenelles arranged in a dish of cream and briefly set under the broiler to warm and brown.

To follow that we chose a light salad. Kevin has had a way with butter lettuce salad since the early days of Castagna, and we knew this one would be the perfect mid-meal break with lightly dressed whole leaves tossed with chopped anchovies. The culmination of lunch was duck confit (right), a whole leg that had been sitting in duck fat for several days, which was then toasted to crunchy, crusted perfection and served with a spoonful of thick applesauce. After that we considered splitting the spicy pork sandwich for dessert, but decided that might be a bit too much even for us.

Dave came home that evening in the mood for a martini, so while I cubed up some of the jowl from Roger the pig that he'd cured and smoked the weekend before, he shook up a couple of his house specials. In Italy a cured, unsmoked jowl is called guanciale and, when sliced, looks a lot like bacon with ribbons of fat streaked with meat. It's used in dishes like carbonara and pasta all'amatriciana, and since I had a couple dozen of Clare's amazing eggs, I decided to go with the carbonara, a fitting tribute to Roger's home and an appropriate end to a spectacular day.

Live and Learn

I guess it's why I'm not religious in the strict sense of the word. Sure, I have my beliefs, though they're more a not-very-well-thought-out accumulation of the experiences and relationships I've had thus far. But dogma has never really worked for me, since it seems as soon as I attempt to neatly package anything up and seal it with tape, I'll find something lurking under the couch that blows my neatly organized system all to heck.

The same goes for recipes. Sure, I've got my classics, but they're always getting tweaked and fiddled with to see if maybe they can be made just a teensy, eensy bit better.

It happened the other day when I had lunch at Taste Unique, Stefania Toscano's Italian take-out diner on SE Division, which qualifies as my favorite Italian restaurant in Portland even though it only seats eight people. I'd heard her pasta carbonara (left, above) was astonishingly luscious, and since it's one of my family's favorite go-to recipes, I had to try her version.

Now, my carbonara is based on a Marcella Hazan recipe that uses whole eggs supplemented with egg yolks, along with a glug or so of white wine in the sauce. Not so Stefania's. As a matter of fact, she looked shocked when I asked if she used whole eggs, replying with an emphatic "No!" adding that she also considers cream a no-no. Her pasta is bathed in a rich sauce made with yolks and yolks alone.

So of course I came home and whipped up a yolks-only version of my own, and it gave the old recipe a run for its money, especially with Dave's home-smoked bacon. Though using six eggs yolks for a pound of pasta made the Scrooge in me wince, not to mention what to do with that many whites.

It's all about figuring out what works for you. Which is a pretty good metaphor for living your life, don't you think?

Extra-Rich Pasta Carbonara

1 lb. pasta
6 egg yolks
1/2 c. parmesan, grated, plus more for sprinkling
2/3 lb. bacon
1 Tbsp. garlic, finely chopped
1 Tbsp. parsley, finely chopped

Bring a large pot of water to boil. Add pasta and cook till al dente. While pasta is cooking, fry bacon until fat renders. Add garlic and sauté briefly but do not brown. Remove from heat. Separate egg yolks into a small mixing bowl and whip briefly with a fork till smooth. Add parmesan and stir to combine. Drain pasta and place in serving dish. Pour egg mixture over the top and toss. Add bacon mixture and stir. Sprinkle lightly with parsley and a bit of parmesan. Serve.

Betrayal, Heresy, Treason?

Though we're a pretty low-key bunch around our house, there are still lots of rules. Thou shalt not use soap to wash the cast iron pans. Thou shalt not pull "weeds" without consulting the gardener (me). Thou shalt not, under any circumstances, call anything a martini unless it's made with gin.

And that goes for food, too. As in thou shalt not try to substitute tea for coffee in the morning because "someone" forgot to get beans at the store. Or allow any "industrial" beers to cross the threshold (especially PBR). And get ready for a full scale call-the-pope-on-the-red-phone moment if you mess with the holiest of holies, spaghetti carbonara.

Now, I have to say that there are certain liberties that are allowed, such as substituting penne for the spaghetti in carbonara. (Even though David Anderson, chef at Genoa, told me once that anything except bucatini was definitely not OK. Fine.) But if I suggest the addition of even some parsley as more than a garnish, rest assured I'm prepared to duck because there will be an unpleasant substance hitting a fan in the vicinity.

But a fan of one-dish dining I am, so when I came back from the farmers' market the other day with some tender collard greens, it seemed like another mooning-of-the-rules might be in order. And oddly enough, whether it was the episode of "The West Wing" (via Netflix) that was particularly engaging or simply hunger-related obliviousness, not a word was said. Maybe I should try to sneak in some chai one of these mornings…

Pasta Carbonara with Greens
Adapted from Marcella Hazan’s Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking

Water for pasta
1 lb. dried penne or other pasta
2 eggs
2 egg yolks
1 1/2 c. grated parmesan, or a mixture of parmesan and romano
1/2 to 3/4 lb. bacon, sliced into 1/4” strips
1 Tbsp. garlic, minced
Several leaves of kale, collards or other greens, sliced into 1/8" by 2" strips
1/4 c. dry white wine or dry vermouth
Salt and pepper to taste

Put the water on to boil. In a small bowl, beat the eggs and egg yolks together, then add 1/2 c. of the cheese and beat in.

In a skillet, fry the bacon till it is cooked but still tender. Add the garlic to the bacon and saute briefly, then add the greens. When they have wilted slightly, add the wine and allow to come to a simmer, then take off the heat. While the bacon is frying, add pasta to the boiling water. When the pasta is done, pour it into a colander to drain and then place it in a serving bowl. Pour the egg mixture over the top and stir to combine. Add the bacon mixture and stir briefly just to mix. Add salt and pepper to taste, then sprinkle some of the remaining cheese on top and put the rest in a small bowl on the table. Serve.

Do You Love Bacon?

Like we love bacon? Well, we love it so much that when I saw these bacon bandages, I had to get some. They're quite the fashion statement when you're in the checkout line at the store or in a client meeting. And a great conversation starter. (As in "What kind of nut would wear that in public?") They're occasionally available at New Seasons, and you can get them online at Archie McPhee, which has some other quite cool stuff (check out the bandages poster from India).

In other bacon-related news, we've become hooked on Beeler's Hickory Smoked Uncured Bacon, which is perfect in my adaptation of Marcella Hazan's carbonara recipe (below). And sorry, dearest brother, but we actually prefer the bacon to pancetta. The smoke rules.

Carbonara
Adapted from a recipe in Marcella Hazan’s "Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking"

Water for pasta
1 lb. dried penne or other pasta
2 eggs
2 egg yolks
1 1/2 c. grated parmesan, or a mixture of parmesan and romano
1/2 to 3/4 lb. bacon, sliced into 1/4” strips
1 Tbsp. garlic, minced
1/4 c. dry white wine or dry vermouth
Salt and pepper to taste

Put the water on to boil. In a small bowl, beat the eggs and egg yolks together, then add 1/2 c. of the cheese and beat in.

In a skillet, fry the bacon till it is cooked but still tender. Add the garlic to the bacon and saute briefly, then add the wine and allow to come to a simmer. While the bacon is frying, add pasta to the boiling water.

When the pasta is done, pour it into a colander to drain and then place it in a serving bowl. Pour the egg mixture over the top and stir to combine. Add the bacon mixture and stir briefly just to mix. Add salt and pepper to taste, then sprinkle some of the remaining cheese on top and put the rest in a small bowl on the table. Serve.

Serves about four as an entree.