Carbonara

Illustration: Atsuhiro Saisho

[kar-boh-NAH-rah]

“A pasta dish of spaghetti (or other noodles) with a sauce composed of cream, eggs, Parmesan cheese and bits of bacon.”—The New Food Lover’s Companion, Fourth Edition

Essayist Calvin Trillin is so enamored of spaghetti alla carbonara, he’s waged a campaign to sub in the pasta for the Thanksgiving bird. The dish, popular with GIs stationed in Italy in the 1940s, is said to have been named for the carbonari, or charcoal makers, of Rome (the name may also refer to the copious specks of black pepper). While it’s too late to forgo turkey this year, you may consider eating carbonara at your New Year’s brunch. Prune (54 E 1st St between First and Second Aves, 212-677-6221) chef Gabrielle Hamilton’s iconic version, offered during weekend brunch only, hews to the classic recipe of pancetta, raw eggs, Parmesan and, of course, plenty of black pepper. You’ll find a similarly straight-up rendition at the enormous Accademia di Vino (1081 Third Ave between 63rd and 64th Sts, 212-888-6333), where chef Kevin Garcia uses thick bucatini and salty guanciale (cured pig’s jowls). At upscale Insieme (777 Seventh Ave between 50th and 51st Sts, 212-582-1310), chef Marco Canora serves an aquatic carbonara that mimics the pork-studded original—grated bottarga and smoked tuna loin masquerade as bacon. In the even trippier fishy rendition at Tocqueville (1 E 15th St between Fifth Ave and Union Sq West, 212-647-1515), salt-preserved seaweed and soy sauce deliver the saline notes, sea urchin and raw egg the velvety sauce, and tiny radish sprouts the peppery finish.

—Jay Cheshes