Light Linguine Carbonara

November 8. Kevin's two-year anniversary. I've been carrying the date like a stone in my pocket for weeks, turning it over, feeling its weight, and now it's here ╬ôçö landing on a Sunday, quiet and unremarkable, the way the most important days often are. He called me Saturday night, not about the anniversary but about a new single-origin Kenyan lot he's roasting, bright and citric, and I listened to him talk about development time and first crack and I thought: this is what two years sounds like. It sounds like a man who calls his sister to talk about coffee because his life is full enough that sobriety isn't the headline anymore. It's the ground he stands on. I didn't say happy anniversary. He wouldn't have wanted me to. But when we hung up, I said, "I'm proud of you, Kev," and he was quiet for a second and said, "Yeah. Me too." That was enough.

The other thing that happened this week was the election, which I am not going to write about except to say that James and I sat on the couch Tuesday night refreshing maps on our phones like the numbers might change faster if we looked harder, and I made pajeon ╬ôçö scallion pancakes, crispy and greasy and dipped in a soy-vinegar sauce ╬ôçö because I needed something to do with my hands that wasn't refreshing a map. We ate the entire batch by midnight. Wednesday morning the race was still uncalled and I made another batch. Pajeon is election food now. That's just what it is.

Dr. Yoon asked me this week what I want to do with the space that opens up when I stop counting Kevin's days. I said I didn't know. She said, "You do. You're just not ready to say it." She's infuriating in the way that only someone who knows you too well can be. I think she means the birth search. I think she means Korea. I think she means the thing I've been circling for two years of therapy and twenty-seven years of life ╬ôçö the question of where I come from, which is different from the question of who I am, though they're tangled together like roots under a sidewalk. I'm not ready to say it. But I'm closer than I was.

Sunday I made kongnamul-bap ╬ôçö soybean sprout rice, cooked together in a stone pot so the bottom gets crispy, topped with a gochujang sauce and a fried egg. Simple, warm, the kind of food that asks nothing of you except that you sit down and eat. James and I ate it watching the rain, two people in a one-bedroom condo in a pandemic in a country that couldn't decide what it wanted to be, eating rice and feeling, somehow, okay.

The kongnamul-bap I made that rainy Sunday — rice, sprouts, a fried egg, gochujang — was the kind of meal I reach for when I need the world to ask less of me for a few minutes. When I don’t have a stone pot or the right sprouts on hand, this Light Linguine Carbonara fills exactly the same role: egg-rich, warm, quietly satisfying, the kind of dish that comes together fast and tastes like someone thought about you. James and I have eaten it at the kitchen counter more times than I can count, and that’s the whole point.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

8 oz linguine
3 strips turkey bacon, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 large eggs
1 large egg yolk
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for serving
1/4 cup low-sodium chicken broth
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped

Instructions

Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook linguine according to package directions until al dente. Before draining, reserve 1/2 cup pasta water. Drain and set aside.
Cook the bacon. While pasta cooks, heat a large skillet over medium heat. Add turkey bacon and cook, stirring occasionally, until crisp, about 5–6 minutes. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant. Remove pan from heat.
Make the sauce. In a medium bowl, whisk together eggs, egg yolk, Parmesan, chicken broth, salt, and pepper until smooth and well combined.
Combine. Add the drained hot linguine to the skillet with the bacon and garlic. Pour the egg mixture over the pasta and toss quickly and continuously, adding reserved pasta water a splash at a time as needed, until the sauce is creamy and clings to the noodles. The residual heat cooks the eggs — do not return the pan to high heat or the eggs will scramble.
Finish and serve. Toss in the parsley. Divide among bowls, top with extra Parmesan and a generous grind of black pepper, and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Light Linguine Carbonara — The Comfort of Sitting Down and Eating