It started, as these things do, with a seemingly bare fridge.
I was staring at the shelves trying to figure out lunch. We had eggs. We had pasta. We had some grated cheese packets from the last Prisma run. And then I noticed, tucked in the back, two packets of cubed bacon I’d bought weeks ago “for emergencies.”
This was an emergency.
The math seemed simple enough. Bacon plus eggs plus cheese plus pasta equals carbonara. A classic. Elegant. Roman.
What I failed to account for was the enthusiasm.
The bacon situation: two packets of bacon. 200 grams each. I could have used one and saved the other for another emergency. I could have exercised restraint.
I did not exercise restraint.
400 grams of bacon went into the pan. For four people. That’s nearly a 1:1 bacon-to-pasta ratio, which is not a ratio that exists in any cookbook written by a sane person.
The cheese situation was similarly unhinged. 50 grams of Romano. 140 grams of Parmesan. A small mountain of dairy, waiting to become sauce.
At this point I was committed. There was no scaling back. The bacon was rendering and it was too late for second thoughts.
The mushroom intervention: I had a box of pre-sliced mushrooms in the pantry. The kind you buy for omelets and then forget about. They needed using.
Into the pan they went. Before the bacon, so they could release their water and actually caramelize instead of turning into sad gray slugs. This is important. Mushrooms need space and heat and patience. They do not need to swim in bacon grease from the start.
The bacon went in once the mushrooms were golden. Everything sizzled. The kitchen smelled incredible.
Then, I found a second can of mushrooms in the back of the cupboard.
Look. The bacon mountain was staring at me accusatorily. The only solution was more vegetables. This is math. 400 grams of bacon divided by more mushrooms equals… still 400 grams of bacon, but now with plausible deniability.
“It’s got vegetables in it,” I could say, technically truthfully.
The second can went in. These did NOT get to dry out on the pan, but I squeezed out as much liquid as I could and figured 50% good intentions was still worth something.
Here’s the thing: despite the excess, the actual method was sound.
Mushrooms (the originally intended ones, anyway) went in first, dried out properly, got golden. Bacon crisped in the mushroom-flavored pan. Eggs and cheese were whisked together in a bowl, waiting. Pasta cooked, then got scooped directly into the pan — no draining, which means the starchy pasta water comes along automatically and helps the sauce emulsify.
Heat OFF. Egg-cheese mixture in. Toss toss toss. The residual heat cooks the eggs into silk instead of clumpy scrambles. Splash of pasta water if it needs loosening.
This is not a bastardization. This is carbonara made by someone who understood the assignment and then got a little too excited about the ingredients list. The technique was intact. The spirit of the dish was preserved. I just… added more of things that already belonged there.
That’s adaptation, not invention. I didn’t add cream (the eternal carbonara sin). I didn’t add garlic (controversial but forgivable). I definitely didn’t add ranch dressing and call it “fusion.”
I just made carbonara for people who really, really like bacon.
The sauce came together perfectly. Silky. Glossy. Clinging to every strand. No scrambled egg bits. The mushrooms had melted into the background, providing earthiness and (yes) diplomatic cover. The bacon was crispy and abundant and exactly right.
I served it. The eleven-year-old, mid-slurp, gave a thumbs up without pausing.
That’s the highest honor. That’s not polite acknowledgment. That’s active approval with mouth full.
Carbonaughty: The Recipe-Ish
For 4 people who like bacon:
- 500g spaghetti
- 400g cubed bacon (yes, really)
- 1-2 boxes/cans of sliced mushrooms, whatever needs using
- 4 whole eggs
- 190g hard cheese (I used Romano + Parmesan, use what you have)
- Black pepper (to taste — I went light for a pepper-sensitive child)
- Pasta water (the secret ingredient you already have)
The order of operations:
- Mushrooms in the pan first, medium-high heat, let them release water and get golden
- Add bacon, crisp everything together
- While that’s happening, whisk eggs and cheese in a bowl
- Cook pasta in well-salted water
- Scoop pasta directly into the bacon-mushroom pan (OFF the heat)
- Pour egg-cheese mixture over, toss continuously
- Add splashes of pasta water until it’s glossy and saucy
- Serve immediately, add more pepper at the table for those who want it
The Italians would not approve of the proportions. But the Italians aren’t standing in my kitchen watching my kid eat a full bowl of dinner with no complaints, so their opinion is noted and respectfully filed away.
We left Rome approximately 400 grams of bacon ago. No regrets.
Little Blue and White House 