Zuppa di Carbonara

What’s not to like? An oozy farm fresh egg swimming in a sea of chicken broth fortified with rinds from Parmigiano Reggiano cheese? SlIces of Prosciutto di Parma slowly coaxed into crisp salty perfection perched on top? Homemade crusty croutons begging to be bathed in the broken yolk showered with a cracked peppercorn storm?

It’s quite a simple concept really. The idea was hatched from a hankering for Spaghetti alla Carbonara on a cold day. But we wanted to make it lighter and warmer, something that you would eat, slurping down every last sip and not be full but instead a little sorry that it was finished.

At first we rendered guanciale, cured pieces of pork jowl fattier than pancetta, and a little funkier. But the soup became too fatty, and so standing in the kitchen, spoons in hand we turned around and spotted the 24 month Antica Salumeria Rosi Proscuitto di Parma batting it’s eyelashes at us. Its flavor is complex and porky enough to demand a presence in the soup but demure and smooth enough not to overshadow it. We sliced it and cut into julienne, and then gently warmed it in some olive oil so that it opened up the flavor and added it to the soup.

With the addition of the crouton as the starch and some chopped fresh chives on top we were almost there. We sprinkled the soup with some grated Pecorino Romano to finish. Too acidic. So we switched to Parmigiano Reggiano and it worked. It needed one last thing.

“Maybe we a-make-a the chip to put.” Cesare asserted. We responded in our usual way. “What?”

“The chip. We make-a-the chip with the Prosciutto. It come crispy and then you put it in and it suck-a- the broth.”

Within two seconds we had sheet trays and Silpats and started laying silky slices of Proscuitto in a single layer. We set the oven at 250 and waited. The wait was a bust. The chips got too dark and it undermined the sweetness of the ham. Meredith suggested we put them instead on the shelf over the plancha, so it would be hot enough to dry but not cook the chips. They came out thin and translucent, and the moment they hit your tongue was pure bliss. Then the chip cracks and starts to dissolve upon contact with your saliva, leaving behind the porky essence as you wash it away with the savory broth.

Don’t forget a few cranks of freshly cracked peppercorn. I think I need a cold shower now.

-Alexis Pisciotta, Chef
Salumeria Rosi