I must admit that duplicating the extremely specific and porky delight of spaghetti carbonara without pig was not a conundrum that kept me awake at night until a reader contacted me for help on the topic. Given that the main ingredients in traditional carbonara are cured pig and cheese, it appeared to me that they would be better off sticking to cacio e Pepe or one of the many vegan pasta recipes in the Italian repertoire, such as Aglio e olio or pasta con pangratto.
After a moment of reflection, however, it occurred to me (guiltily, I must admit) that, as delicious as those dishes are, they are delicious in a completely different way than spaghetti carbonara, and that, frankly, if someone has been brave enough to give up meat, the least I could do is provide a recipe that is comparable in that regard. Please accept my apologies, and thank you for inspiring this column, as there are few things I like more than solving a genuine culinary dilemma.
The term “pork”
Carbonara is originally cooked with guanciale or pork jowl that has been cured, but pancetta is frequently used as a substitute; both are fatty, salty, and very savory. This is difficult to replicate, as the reader in question discovered when they attempted to substitute halloumi, a similarly salty product.
However, halloumi lacks the rich, umami character of the pork, as I discover when I try a recipe from the Casually Peckish blog, despite being fried to a deep golden brown, as author Gen recommends, noting: “This caramelization process will add complexity to its flavor and, as I always say, color = flavor.” Pasta and fried halloumi are as delicious as any combination of two wonderful things, but it does not scream carbonara to me. Nor is it vegan-friendly, which is my hope in this case.
The recipe in Bad Manners Food’s cookbook Thug Kitchen 101 utilizes sun-dried tomatoes steeped in red-wine vinegar, soy sauce, liquid smoke, and garlic powder, which is, of course, considerably more vegan-friendly. However, despite my best efforts to retain an open mind about sun-dried tomatoes as a person who remembers the 1990s, they do not taste like bacon. Salty and savory, certainly, but also strongly and undeniably tomatoey, even after marinating.
In her cookbook Vegan Kids, Heather Whinney substitutes tomatoes for strips of carrot “bacon” marinated in tahini, maple syrup, black soy sauce, and liquid smoke, and then cooked till crisp. The shiitake mushrooms coated with oil, liquid smoke, smoked paprika, garlic, and onion powder in Sue Quinn’s Easy Vegan recipe are a vast improvement.
My preferred pork replacement, though, is comparable but even simpler. Daniel Gritzer writes on Serious Eats that he chose king oyster mushrooms for their mild flavor (which prevents this dish from becoming pasta ai Funghi by another name) and big stems, which can be chopped into lardon-sized pieces. Instead of having the difficulty and expense of turning on the oven, he sautés them in oil until golden brown so that they keep a juicy texture.
A dash of soy sauce for umami, some garlic (yes, I know that many carbonara recipes don’t include garlic, but mine does), and a pinch of smoked paprika, because, although guanciale isn’t smoked, as Gritzer explains: “If there’s one thing a smoky flavor can instantly evoke, it’s meat, and we need that effect here.” You might use liquid smoke in its place if you have it, although it is more difficult to get at the usual grocery.
Oh, and resist the urge to skimp on the olive oil; since the guanciale is fatty and mushrooms are not, you want the mushrooms to soak up the olive flavor. (Note that I have not tested with processed meat substitutes, even though they are undoubtedly delicious; if you have a favorite, feel free to substitute it for the mushrooms.)
The gravy
Keeping this dish vegan makes it more difficult to replicate the egg and cheese sauce, as both components are prohibited. The simplest variation I attempt, from Bad Manners, includes nutritional yeast, flakes of dried yeast with a flavor described by Bon Appetit as “cheesy and nutty,” a cornflour paste, and a dash of pasta boiling water so that the sauce thickens in the pan with the spaghetti.
While this is quite good, albeit a bit subdued, given that it lacks the black pepper that is such a fundamental component of the original meal, it does nothing to satisfy the craving for an egg-rich dish.
Quinn’s cashew-cream-based version is far more effective, possessing both the required richness and a slightly nutty, cheesy texture, but even it can’t rival Whinney and Gritzer’s silken tofu, which lives up to its name by covering the spaghetti strands with a creamy, silky sauce. However, it needs a little boost in the flavor department.
Nutritional yeast is a good place to begin due to its cheesy flavor, and I also experiment with the white miso used by Quinn, Whinney, and Gritzer. However, I find that even the mildest fermented bean paste has a distinct, earthy flavor that has nowhere to hide in such a simple dish; yeast and salt should suffice. Gritzer’s most astute move, in my opinion, was to recognize that pecorino romano, like parmesan, is not only salty and savory but also “sharp to the point of being hot, with a pretty significant lactic stink.”
He employs sauerkraut brine, which also includes lactic acid, by way of lateral thinking. This gives his sauce an obviously bitter yet slightly cabbage-like flavor that, while not terrible, isn’t what I’d anticipate from a carbonara, so I’ll stick with the white-wine vinegar he adds for further sourness.
Though an excessive amount of black pepper is required, I’ve deleted the garlic and onion powder from multiple recipes since, while I’m not a snob, they taste more like instant noodles than carbonara to me. However, I’ve maintained Whinney’s pinch of turmeric because its wonderful hue makes me immediately think of egg yolks.
The topping
Traditionally, carbonara has no topping other than additional grated cheese, which is omitted here for obvious reasons (unless you have a favorite plant-based cheese that would work in this instance, in which case load it on). Though Bad Manners Food’s sprinkle of flat-leaf parsley is likely more for cosmetic than flavor purposes, I do enjoy their crisp breadcrumbs – albeit smashed small and seasoned with salt, oil, and pepper as opposed to lemon zest, paprika, and garlic powder. Similar to the grated cheese, they are not essential to the dish and can be omitted without consequence.
Perfect meat-free spaghetti carbonara
Prep 10 min
Cook 13 min
Serves 2, and is easily scalable
80g king oyster mushrooms
1 tsp light soy sauce
¼ tsp sweet smoked paprika, or a dash of liquid smoke
Salt
150g-200g spaghetti, depending on whether you’re eating this as the main event or a pasta course
100g silken tofu
1 tsp white wine vinegar
1 pinch turmeric (optional)
10g nutritional yeast
Coarsely ground black pepper
2½ tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
2 tsp dried breadcrumbs (optional)
1 garlic clove, peeled and squashed
Bring the kettle to a boil. Cut the mushrooms into roughly 2cm × 1cm pieces after cleaning them.
Combine the soy sauce and paprika in a bowl, add the mushrooms, and lightly toss to coat (I find it easiest to use my hands).
Fill a big saucepan with boiling water from the kettle, place it over high heat, salt it well, then add the spaghetti and cook according to the package instructions until al dente.
In the meantime, combine the tofu, vinegar, and, if using, turmeric in a small dish or mini-blender.
Scoop out approximately 60ml (four tablespoons) of the pasta water, combine it with the nutritional yeast to aid in its dissolution, and then add it to the tofu mixture.
Blend to a smooth paste (if you don’t have a stick blender or tiny chopper, use a fork, but make sure it’s smooth), then season to taste with generous amounts of salt and black pepper.
For the breadcrumb topping, heat a half tablespoon of oil in a skillet over medium heat. If your breadcrumbs are coarse, grind them in a mortar until they are fine.
Season the breadcrumbs well, cook for a couple of minutes until brown, and then transfer to a bowl.
Once the remaining two tablespoons of oil are hot, add the mushrooms to the pan containing the crushed garlic clove.
Fry, stirring frequently, until golden brown on both sides; reduce heat drastically if they start to burn.
A minute or two before the pasta is done, pour the sauce mixture into the mushroom pan and heat it through while swirling to dislodge any juices from the bottom of the pan.
Add the spaghetti to the sauce and toss until well combined, if necessary adding a splash or two of the reserved cooking water to loosen and emulsify the mixture.
Divide the spaghetti among dishes, sprinkle with breadcrumbs and black pepper, if desired, and serve immediately.
