“What about Carbonara?” she asked, as we rode the train home last Monday evening.
“Carbonara,” I said, thinking that was beyond my reach; it would be 10 pm before we got home.
“We have bacon and eggs and cheese and pasta.”
Challenge accepted. It would certainly keep us from going to the drive-through window, or eating a bowl of ice cream for dinner. Neither of those is necessarily terrible, but we could do better.
I’m sure the idea arose because we’d watched an episode of a cooking game show the night before. Just for fun, the host challenged one of the judges to join the competition. The meal he prepared didn’t affect the outcome of the game, but he started halfway into the cooking period and prepared a meal of spaghetti carbonara in less than 15 minutes. (Because it was also a “budget” challenge, the judge used bacon rather than the traditional pancetta.)
“How did he do that so fast?” she asked. “Did they stop the clock to let him boil the water?”
I’m pretty sure, I said, that they let all the contestants have a pot of boiling water all the time. In fact, although I can’t remember where, I’d read that every cook should set a pot of water to boil as soon as walking in the door, even if you don’t know what you’re planning to cook. It could be used for to cook pasta, potatoes, or rice; or turn into the basis for a simple soup; or a steamer basket could go over it for vegetables. I don’t always do this, but it does seem like a good idea.
“Okay,” I said, “but you can’t hold me to 15 minutes since I don’t already have boiling water.”
That seemed fair to her.
Carbonara Against the Clock.
First things first. Come in the door. Put down your bag and go straight to the stove. Put on a pot of water to boil. Feed the cat.
Now take off your coat. Hey, every second counts.
Set a skillet on medium heat.
Pull a package of bacon from the freezer; and, from the fridge, a wedge of parmesan and a carton of eggs.
Green peas are not to be included, the judge pointedly said. Heck with him. Get peas if you want them. We didn’t have any peas. I grabbed some asparagus.
Turn on the oven to low, add a couple of bowls. No cold plates for hot food.
Dice a few strips of bacon and set them in the skillet to render, stirring occasionally so nothing burns. (If the bacon is frozen, so much the better: it dices neatly and cooks slower.)
Trim the asparagus (if using) and cut it into half-inch long pieces.
Grate the cheese until you have about half a cup.
When the water is boiling, in goes a half-box of spaghetti. Stir occasionally to make sure it doesn’t clump.
When the bacon is cooked, remove it with a slotted spoon to one of the warming bowls. If Pour off the bacon fat, reserving it for another day! Leave a little fat in the skillet and sauté the if-using asparagus in it.
Cracked four eggs into a big bowl and whisk them. Stirred in most of the grated cheese and a generous amount of pepper.
When the spaghetti is al dente, drain it, add it to the eggs-and-cheese bowl, and stir vigorously. This way, the hot pasta cooks the eggs gently—rather than pouring the eggs into the pasta pot, where they’d seize up instantly. Add the bacon and completely-non-traditional asparagus, stirred a little more to combine. Divide into the warmed bowls, and sprinkle the remaining cheese on top.
Serves two, who most decidedly did not have to go to the drive-through; if there are no leftovers, I will certainly not judge.
35 minutes from walking in the door to sitting down to eat.
Cooking game shows are fun to watch, though they don’t really have the play-along factor of Jeopardy! or Wheel of Fortune—or, one that is very close to my heart, The $100,000 Pyramid. There’s no way to “get the answer” before the contestants do, and, of course, there’s no way for the home audience to “judge” the food the contestants prepare, other than by saying, “That looks good,” or “I wouldn’t eat that.”
Or—and this is particularly important for an improvisational cook like me—as a reminder of how to cook within limitations.
Whatever the challenge, first, boil some water.