The Not Carbonara Game

I have a strange story to tell, the story of a breakfast I invented late last Sunday night. I haven’t gotten around to eating it for breakfast yet, even though I’ve made it for myself over and over again this week. It all started eighteen hours earlier when I made a very dinner-like breakfast.

I woke up on Sunday too early. I was hungry and I knew my body wouldn’t let me go back to sleep until I ate. So I got up and thought about what I could make that would be fast and tasty and exciting to cook. I think there’s room for fun and experimentation even when I’m in a hurry. A quick round of The Kitchen Game. What would allow me to get back to bed soon but also let me play the game a bit?

I decided on “Not Carbonara.” As I described a few weeks ago in my post, The Carbonara Game, I pine for carbonara. And since I won’t eat pork, and since pork fat is an essential ingredient, pine for it is all I can do.

I don’t think it’s possible to make vegetarian Carbonara, which is the only kind I’d be willing to eat. But, as I stood in my kitchen at 5:00 in the morning, I thought I might be able to make something that was good in at least some of the same ways as Carbonara by 5:15.

So I beat an egg, grated parmesan, and cracked pepper into a bowl. I took precooked udon noodles from the fridge and boiled them for a minute or two. I drained most of the water and mixed in butter, miso, and gochujang with the noodles. Then I poured in the egg mixture and whisked.

I ate the result straight from the pot. It wasn’t half bad, either. I’d used too much pasta water, and so the sauce was on the edge of being a broth. Still, it was deliciously slurpy, full of pleasant heat and umami. The sauce was worth saving, which was fortunate, because there was a good amount left after I’d eaten all the noodles.

For dinner that night, I decided to use the rest of that sauce. I took out a small, round baking dish, laid two slices of sourdough in it and poured my Not Carbonara sauce over them. What emerged from a 350° oven a few minutes later was like savory french toast. The middle of the slices were saturated with cheesy sauce while the crust had browned beautifully and the egg mixture had puffed up on top. The tang of green olives set off the deeply savory sauce.

I wolfed down my new invention, making the noises I make when I eat something surprisingly delicious all by myself. And because I am a maximalist, I immediately started thinking about how I could push the recipe further. For dinner the very next night, I made it again, this time roasting onion and tomatoes first and then sprinkling them on top with more olives.

I encourage you all to make Not Carbonara Toast at home. You can substitute the pasta water I used in my first, serendipitous making with a splash of water and a little flour. If you have miso, use it. If not, the parmesan will do all the umami work you really need. You don’t need to use gochujang, but it’s a great way to introduce complex heat into a sauce. Red pepper flakes would do in a pinch—pun intended. Use an egg per large slice of bread and keep grating parmesan until your arm gets tired. Just as in Carbonara, freshly cracked black pepper here moves beyond its usual accenting role to shine as a star player, so don’t be stingy with it. A slick of olive oil in the baking dish will get your slices that much more deliciously browned, and letting the egg mixture soak into the bread before you bake couldn’t hurt either.