My boyfriend couldn’t have been happier. I brought pig into the house. Thinly sliced, smoked pig. Bacon. Bacon. Bacon.
The oven was home to our first usage—bacon baked quickly and at a high temperature for an evenly cooked crisp. We bit at the bacon in between bites of eggs and toast. A simple introduction.
We thought we’d keep it easy. Let bacon flavor an angel hair carbonara.
I looked up a few recipes on Epicurious and understood, well, thought I understood, the gist of a carbonara.
Cook bacon. Remove bacon. Cook onion in its grease. Boil Pasta. Combine parm and egg in separate bowl. Combine hot pasta, onion, bacon and parm-egg mixture. Toss. Creamy deliciousness.
Of course, it wasn’t that simple. My carbonara got fucked.
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