Eggs and Tomatoes
Hello again dears,
I am back in the kitchen, thinking of Stanley, making his family dishes. Last week, I made a recipe his father would make on a Friday, to give his mother some time away from the stove. Today I make the second of his father’s go-to treats, with a Tunisian twist
Eggs and Tomatoes. It’s a blander version (European kid-friendly might be another way to put it) of Shakshuka, a traditional Tunisian meal. I’ll give the Tucci’s this: with Italian San Marzano grown on volcanic soil, I’m sure the result is far from bland. But I was cooking for guests, and I was trying to impress – so no sad Shakshuka for them. I made a real Shakshuka.
Let me tell you a little something about my guests that week. I was staying in Ambre’s lovely house in the suburbs of Paris, hosted by her parents, one of whom used to be a perfume nose, so I took extra care with my spices.
They have a big kitchen island topped with a large marble slab and a hob, on which they make all manner of dishes. Her father had, two nights earlier, prepared a lovely tangy aubergine dip which I devoured with rice. Ambre is a happy food recipient. She will try anything. She cheers as you cook, makes suggestions which will tempt her palette, and applaud your culinary bravery. She loves flavour. She appreciates colour, she welcomes texture. Ambre is golosa. Ambre is gourmande. In English: She craves.
When I cook for her, I reach an odd meditative sim-like state in which I embody a Claire Saffitz type supper-club running perfect Jewish housewife. Lety had left us the day before, and she had prepared Ambre’s parents a Brazilian twist on a Russian dish. I had to step up.
So I made my family’s version of Tucci’s dish.
To the Tucci recipe (Onions, Tomatoes, Eggs, Salt and Pepper) we Tunisians add:
Cumin, Paprika, Chilli flakes, Bell peppers, Parsley, and my personal supplement: Feta. Some people add garlic. My mother and great aunt disagree on that one.
Here is how I make it (in the Tucci method of writing recipes):
Note – replace eggs with fried artichokes or tofu to make the vegan version. It’s delicious.
- Dice and sweat onions in a deep pan.
- Add cumin, paprika to taste.
- While you wait, cut up your red bell peppers.
- Toss them into the pan
- When your onions are sufficiently sweaty, pour a can of whole peeled tomatoes (I’m a Mutti girl) into the mix.
- Mash about with a wooden spoon until well and truly saucey.
- Salt, pepper, chilli flakes.
- The sauce must be hot. Find the right sized cover for your pan, I have a poor sense of dimension so it takes me a few tries to find the right one.
- What you have right now is my mother’s Tunisian tomato sauce. It’s lovely with bread, cold from the fridge, or with leftover spaghetti, or with some couscous. If you are stopping here, I’m told my mother also makes this sauce with laurel – which may or may not be bay leaves as translation is confusing. It’s delicious.
- Make little wells with your wooden spoon in which to pour your eggs.
- Crack eggs into wells (as many as you’d like), covering the white of the eggs with some of the sauce using little shoving motions from your spoon. (Leave the yolk uncovered so they stay runny).
- Crack a little more pepper, add some chilli flakes, and some parsley.
- Put. The lid. Back on.
- When your eggs are just shy of done, turn off the heat – they’ll keep cooking in the pan as you plate.
- Crumble some feta over the top – lots.
- Serve in pan, use spatula to fish out each person’s perfect portion: an egg, some onions and peppers, and LOTS of feta.
- Even better served on toasted baguette.
Sorry Tuccis, this is simply the better way.
