Is this what a British carbonara is actually trying to be?
Pasta with cream and morty-d (pasta panna e mortadella)
OK let’s just start by clearing one thing up: British carbonara isn’t actually bad… it’s just not carbonara. The issue people (Gino D’Acampo, myself) take with it is that it’s just not anything near to what a carbonara is supposed to be yet claims the title. The ingredients for one are completely different, typically containing cream, bacon, sometimes mushrooms, parsley, garlic, onion - honestly the list could go on. Is it carbonara? Absolutely not. But is it tasty? Actually, yes it is.
I mean, what’s not to love - cream, salty bacon, pasta - it’s luxe but approachable, quick and easy to make, impossible to mess up. I feel like this is a safe space so I’ll confess - when I was 18 I went to Malia on an 18-30s holiday and ate a “carbonara” as described above every single day as my one single meal. I survived for a week on that and that alone! And it was glorious, I regret nothing.
Anglicised takes on Italian food, particularly pasta, are notorious for provoking strong reactions from native Italians. A lot of the time I think this gets dismissed as a result of traditionalist views and a lot of passion for keeping things as they are supposed to be, and while I’m sure there is a little bit of that I can’t help but think about how Italian cuisine is one of the most culturally appropriated foods in the world. Then add to that the intricacies of many dishes being a product of a country that is so hyper-regional that their existence and invention becomes a point of both intense dispute and pride, and you can understand why a British carbonara is a bit of an insult.
I first stumbled upon panna e mortadella in Evan Funke’s cookbook American Sfoglino. Anyone familiar with Funke will observe that he is very much into mortadella, so it was hardly a surprise to find a recipe featuring Bologna’s queen of deli meats within the pages of his book. He opens the recipe with “I f*cking love mortadella”, just to share some of his energy with you. So when I got back to London from a short trip to Bologna, armed with a 500g hunk of mortadella, I had to make my version of it.
The dish is delightfully simple, relying solely on the core ingredients for flavour - and there’s only a handful of them. Mortadella - preferably in a large piece so it can be cut into lovely, chunky cubes, cream, black pepper, and some Parmigiano Reggiano to serve. As soon as I took a bite I turned to my husband and exclaimed - absolutely shooketh I might add - that it tasted like the British carbonara that I have quietly loved so dearly all of these years. But better.
The mortadella becomes a little crispy after a stint in the pan before the cream is added. It has the most wonderful texture, far superior to bacon but with all the saltiness that makes bacon so wonderful. I like to use a single/pouring cream over a heavy cream, and finish cooking the pasta in the sauce for the final couple of minutes. It will appear to be far too thin initially, but the pasta will absorb some of that liquid and in return share some of its starch with the sauce, which I find creates a slightly lighter yet very creamy finished dish. You can add a little Parmigiano to the sauce to emulsify, however I prefer to sprinkle over a handful before serving.
In terms of pasta shape, this is really down to your preference but I think a short shape would work best here. I used some of the gramigna that I brought back from Bologna, however farfalle (as suggested in Funke’s book), or penne would be ideal IMO.
The best part? This cooks at the same time as the pasta, so truly a 10 minute meal. I promise this will become your new quick and easy, lazy day dinner.
Watch the video of this pasta coming together, here!
The Recipe
Serves 4
Ingredients
300g pasta of choice
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
200g mortadella, cut into cubes (I ask the deli counter to cut me off a thick slice, but if you can’t get this just buy sliced mortadella and cut into pieces)
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
300ml single/pouring cream
Parmigiano Reggiano to serve
Method
Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil and salt generously. Add the pasta and aim to cook for approx 2 minutes less than al dente.
Meanwhile, heat the olive oil in a frying pan (large enough to eventually add the pasta to), and start by frying the mortadella cubes for several minutes until crispy.
Add the black pepper and let this become a little fragrant and toasty - a minute - before adding the cream.
As the pasta continues to cook, allow the sauce to reduce slightly, and when the pasta is a couple of minutes from al dente, add it to the sauce (scoop it out with a slotted spoon to take some pasta water with it), and let the pasta finish cooking in the cream. The sauce will appear too thin initially, but you’ll see that it quite quickly is absorbed by the pasta as it finishes cooking.
As noted above, you can add a handful of grated Parmigiano to the sauce to emulsify before serving, or just adorn each plate with a scattering to serve. Up to you - personally I find the cream sauce perfect as it is, but if you want to amp up the decadence, add the extra parm.