Summer Carbonara

Destin. Beach. Sand between my toes. Gulf water on the Florida side, which is bluer than the Louisiana side because Florida doesn't have the river mud and the sediment that makes Louisiana water brown. I told Danielle that the brown water is better water because it's richer, like a dark roux versus a blonde. She said, "Tommy, it's the ocean. Stop making it about roux." She's right. But also: everything is about roux.

I cooked. In the rental condo. Of course I cooked. I found a seafood market in Destin and bought shrimp and grouper and made a pan-seared grouper with shrimp butter sauce that Danielle declared "the best thing you've ever made on vacation." I said, "It's the only thing I've ever made on vacation because this is our first vacation." Details. The grouper was excellent. The shrimp butter was excellent. And the sunset from the balcony, with the Gulf in front of us and the kids on the beach below and the sound of waves that are not hurricanes and not floods and not Katrina — just waves, just the ocean doing its job, pushing and pulling and being beautiful — the sunset was the best thing about vacation. The sunset and the fish. The sunset and the fish and the woman who booked the trip and the kids who are brown from the sun and the vacation that I didn't know I needed until I was in it.

The grouper and shrimp butter were the stars of that Destin trip, but it’s a rich, glossy sauce — the kind that coats every strand and reminds you that fat is flavor — that I keep coming back to when I want to bottle up that vacation feeling. Summer Carbonara is that recipe: quick enough to pull together in a rental condo kitchen, luxurious enough to feel like a celebration, and built around the same principle as shrimp butter — good eggs, good fat, and don’t overcomplicate it. Make it on a warm night, open the windows, and let the sauce do the work.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

12 oz spaghetti or linguine
4 oz pancetta or thick-cut bacon, diced
1 medium zucchini, cut into thin half-moons
1 cup fresh or frozen corn kernels
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
3 large eggs
1 large egg yolk
1 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for serving
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for pasta water
1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, torn

Instructions

Salt the water. Bring a large pot of generously salted water to a boil. Cook the pasta according to package directions until al dente. Before draining, reserve 1 cup of the starchy pasta water and set aside.
Make the egg mixture. While the pasta cooks, whisk together the eggs, egg yolk, Parmesan, black pepper, and salt in a medium bowl until smooth and well combined. Set aside at room temperature.
Render the pancetta. In a large skillet over medium heat, cook the pancetta until the fat has rendered and the pieces are golden and slightly crisp, about 5 to 6 minutes. Use a slotted spoon to transfer the pancetta to a paper-towel-lined plate, leaving the fat in the pan.
Saute the vegetables. Add the olive oil to the same skillet and increase heat to medium-high. Add the zucchini and corn and cook, stirring occasionally, until lightly golden, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic and cherry tomatoes and cook 2 minutes more, until the tomatoes begin to soften.
Combine pasta and sauce. Remove the skillet from heat completely — this is critical. Add the drained hot pasta to the skillet and toss to coat with the vegetables and pan fat. Working quickly, pour the egg and Parmesan mixture over the pasta. Toss constantly, adding reserved pasta water a splash at a time, until the sauce is creamy, silky, and clings to every strand. The residual heat cooks the eggs gently without scrambling them.
Finish and serve. Return the pancetta to the skillet and toss to combine. Taste and adjust salt and pepper. Divide among bowls, scatter torn basil over the top, and finish with extra Parmesan and a crack of black pepper. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Summer Carbonara — The Rich Sauce That Brought the Gulf Home