Article by the Mediterranean Culinary Academy (MCA)
Before I dive into this article and share my thoughts, let me begin by stating that I genuinely enjoy modern carbonara—it's delicious and widely popular.
It has become a ubiquitous presence on menus, akin to a burger, offering a safe and comforting choice.
While I believe carbonara's peak might be waning with dishes like Spaghetti alla Assasina gaining traction, it will likely remain a popular dish for some time to come. My primary concern with carbonara isn't the dish itself but the elitism that has grown around it.
What was once a simple and delightful dish has transformed into a litmus test for food connoisseurs, a way for some to assert their culinary superiority and look down upon any alterations to the classic recipe.
While it's important to cherish and preserve traditional recipes (even though carbonara isn't ancient), we should not disparage those who reinterpret them to suit their taste or dietary preferences.
I can already imagine the raised eyebrows of self-proclaimed experts reading this. But please, hear me out. During my recent travels to Rome, Rimini, and Veneto, I encountered intriguing variations like carbonara ai zucchini or carbonara di pesce—accepted alternatives in Italy that omit guanciale and cater to vegetarians or pescatarians. In Italy, carbonara mainly refers to an egg and cheese-based sauce, leaving room for creative adaptations.
Interestingly, guanciale wasn't always a staple ingredient in carbonara. Until the 1960s, bacon or pancetta were commonly used, and even into the late 80s and early 90s, many recipes still called for these alternatives due to the scarcity of guanciale. Therefore, a carbonara made with bacon can still be considered authentic in its own right.
Now, onto the controversial topic: cream. While its original use remains uncertain, renowned Chef Guiliero Marchesi—credited with modernising Italian cuisine—incorporated a touch of cream into his carbonara. Perhaps we shouldn't vilify cream, as it was historically part of the dish's evolution.
Regarding its origins—legend has it that Chef Renato Gualandi invented carbonara during Italy's liberation in 1944. With only spaghetti, bacon, powdered eggs, cream, cheese, and black pepper at his disposal, he aptly named it carbonara due to the black pepper resembling charcoal (carbone in Italian).
While this story is challenging to verify, the first documented mention of carbonara in a cookbook appeared in Patricia Bronté's An extraordinary guide to what’s cooking on Chicago’s Near North side in 1952. Two years later, an Italian cookbook called La cucina Italiana introduced garlic into the carbonara recipe, further evolving its culinary narrative.
My overarching point? It's essential for our culinary culture to uphold and celebrate recipes and traditions.
Everyone in the Maltese food industry should explore and promote local cuisine, ingredients, and culinary traditions. What troubles and frustrates me is witnessing individuals, both inside and outside the food industry, who deride Maltese cuisine while preaching about authenticity using carbonara as a sacred benchmark of purity and tradition.
I envision a future where we engage in debates about local specialties like fenek moqli or froġa tat-tarja, embracing and celebrating our own culinary heritage instead of idolising imported narratives.
In conclusion, enjoy carbonara, relish it in your favourite restaurants, but let's not take it too seriously. Let's embrace culinary diversity, innovation, and the rich tapestry of flavours that define our gastronomic experiences.