Cristina Bowerman, a Michelin-star chef who owns the Glass restaurant in Rome, said it was impossible to produce carbonara in a tin and described it as “a bastardisation” of one of the country’s most beloved dishes.
“There is no way spaghetti carbonara can be handled in a can,” Bowerman told The Telegraph.
“I am totally against it. It’s a bastardisation.”
She said the majority of pastas, including spaghetti, could not be prepared in advance and the timing required to produce a tasty carbonara was quite particular.
“If you get to eat the real carbonara, there is no way you will be satisfied with one in a can,” she said.
Moreno Cedroni, a Michelin-star chef who has three restaurants near Ancona on the Adriatic Coast, also questioned how carbonara could be served in a can, while noting Heinz was the same company that bottled mayonnaise and ketchup.
“We are a country accustomed to preparing our dishes according to tradition and we are always among the best,” he said. “I don’t think this will be successful, I certainly wouldn’t buy it. But the market will decide.”
While Romans like to claim spaghetti carbonara as one of their own, its origins are hotly disputed. The dish has been eaten throughout central Italy over the years but according to local legend, it became a Roman staple after being popularised by American soldiers when they liberated the Italian capital in 1944.
Aldo Zilli, who became one of Britain’s best loved Italian chefs after moving here at the age of 20, told The Telegraph he was “appalled” at the idea of spaghetti carbonara in a can.
“What is going on with the world? They must be mad putting the beauty and simplicity of a dish like carbonara in a can,” he said. “Heinz pasta hoops in a tin were fun at least. This sounds disgusting.”
Zilli, who has opened several restaurants and written 10 books on Italian cooking, said: “I come from Abruzzo, which is not far from Rome, where carbonara comes from, and my mother taught me how to make that dish using the guanciale [pork jowl] from the pigs we reared. My mother is probably turning in her grave at the thought of it being in a can now”.
The chef, now 68, added: “For me it was a growing up recipe. She would make it for me and my eight siblings when she hadn’t had time to make a long, slow cooked ragu, because it is a quick dish. The taste and flavour of her carbonara has never left me.
“Food is fundamental and Heinz don’t realise what they are doing to people who have grown up with it. These dishes should not be messed around with.”
Alberto Martelli owns La Carbonara restaurant, which features the dish as one of its specialties. The Roman restaurant has been run by his family for four generations.
“Pasta in a can is not right, it is very strange,” Martelli said. “Many Italians, indeed many Romans, come to eat our carbonara. They know the difference.”
Paolo Catarinozzi, who owns Zi’ Umberto Osteria in the Trastevere quarter, said the concept was “disgusting”.
“I am speechless,” he said. “This is a really bad idea. Whether you are talking about short or long pasta, you don’t put it inside a tin. As Romans we are really p***ed off about this.”
Alessandra de Dreuille, the meals director at Kraft Heinz, said: “We understand that people are looking for convenient meals that are effortless to prepare, and our new spaghetti carbonara delivers just that. It’s the perfect solution for a quick and satisfying meal at home”.
Taste test
By Amber Dalton, The Telegraph’s acting food editor
I remember the ire that was stoked when The New York Times linked to a recipe for a “smoky tomato carbonara” in a tweet last year. “This should be illegal,” readers cried. I expect they’d be apoplectic at the thought of Heinz taking this much-loved dish and putting it in a can – along with a scattering of maltodextrin, a drizzle of smoked sunflower oil and una piccola quantità of, err, sodium citrate – among a list of 25-plus ingredients, most of which have no right to be here.
Even the addition of “natural garlic flavouring” would have the carbonara purists up in arms, the pungent allium having no place in an authentic version.
Two and a half minutes in the microwave and it’s ready. The first thing I get is a slight smoky whiff, presumably thanks to that smoked sunflower oil. There’s no fork twirling to be done – the strands of spaghetti are fat and stunted. Some are just an inch long.
Flavour-wise, it’s strangely milky and just tastes beige. With no pecorino to amp up the umami, it’s worse than school tapioca. Even the nubbles of pancetta do nothing to balance the weird blandness. I don’t think a snow drift’s worth of grated pecorino or Parmesan could rescue this and why did they even bother with the one per cent “cheese powder blend”? Heinz claims there are two servings per can but I defy anyone to manage more than a forkful.
“Good pasta. Good times,” says the label. I’d hate to be at a party with the people who developed this recipe.
