Breakfast for Breakfast or Brunch or Lunch or Dinner: There’s a Reason Everyone Loves Shashuka

I just thought this was a really cool wine label

A couple of years ago, my social media feeds were blowing up with recipes for shashuka. I dutifully flagged them (I am the Brunch Princess, after all) but it wasn’t until recently that I started to appreciate the possibilities inherent in a recipe that (1) can be made from ingredients we pretty much always have on hand; (2) can be breakfast, lunch, or dinner; (3) scales up infinitely, based on entirely in the size of your pan and your willingness to keep poaching eggs; and (4) accommodates whatever your whimsy and spice cabinet thrown your way. Also: cool name.

I’m too undercaffeinated to leap into the fray about where exactly this dish originates. Start in Tunisia and work your way east – you’ll find dozens of countries that claim this as their own. It’s basically a spicy tomato sauce with eggs poached in it, and all the bickering and arguing and regional tweaks are just a testament to how flexible and delicious this is. Don’t have peppers on hand? OK, use other veggies. Need more greens? Stir ‘em in. Have an inexplicable desire to set your digestive tract on fire? Punch up the spices. If you have a can of tomatoes, an egg, and a sense of adventure, you’re good.

I suspect my particular version started as something on Smitten Kitchen, as do so many of the things I cook regularly. I’ve made enough variations on this that I ditched recipes completely, and now I just go with what I have on hand. Most recently, this meant an enormous cache of mini peppers and onions plus a big dash of a spice blend that Anna makes, from her lovely new Syrian cookbook (it’s so fantastic it’s going to get it’s own blog entry). I used the last of the homemade feta on top, which inspired me to make another batch. Anna made some rosemary focaccia to serve with it, and it made for a really lovely dinner. 

In other but completely unrelated food-related news: we just got a baking steel, a pizza peel, and a new cookbook. Look for some great GF pizzas from us in the near future! 

 

Shashuka

1 medium onion, chopped (about ¾ cup)
1 ½ cups (more of less) peppers, chopped; I use bell peppers because I have them on hand, but Anaheim and poblano peppers are also nice. Throw in a jalapeno if you want.
2-6 cloves of garlic, chopped; this is another area where your personal preference rules. I wish to deter the vampire population of Oakland County.
1 28-oz can of tomatoes. If you have tomato puree on hand, great; diced tomatoes, great; whole tomatoes, great. Fresh tomatoes? Great! (They’ll take longer to cook down).
Salt and pepper
Spices of your choice: I usually start with 2 tsp cumin, a handful of paprika, a few pinches of cayenne (depending on the peppers I used), and a teaspoon of z’atar or 7 spices or other Middle Eastern/Mediterranean spice mix. You could also go with some herbes de Provence and thyme, or oregano and fresh basil.
Spinach, a drained can of chickpeas, leftover fresh peas, or anything else you think sound delicious in here, optional. It’s okay to be a purist, too.
4-6 eggs, depending on the size of your pan
Optional garnishes: parsley, cilantro, feta, plain yogurt.

Using a frying pan, cook the onions and peppers in a splash of oil over medium-high heat until they begin to soften. Add the garlic and cook for a few more minutes, then add the tomatoes and spices. If you’re using whole canned tomatoes, break them up before adding them; if you’re using fresh tomatoes, chop them up and add some water and a pinch of sugar (you might want to add a little tomato paste diluted in some water, a small can of V-8, or some other liquidy tomatoey thing to help the tomatoes along. Or not).

Turn the heat down and let the sauce simmer until it’s thickened up a bit, enough that you can make a dent in it with the back of a spoon and have enough time to break an egg into it. If you’re adding chickpeas or spinach or anything else that needs to be heated but not really cooked, stir it in and let it heat through.

Using the back of a spoon, make a dent in the sauce for each egg. Leave enough room so that the eggs can spread out a little bit; if I’m using my largest frying pan I can fit 5 eggs comfortably, with enough sauce left after serving that I can get some breakfast out of it as well. Your mileage may vary.

Cover the pan and cook until the eggs are as done as you would like them to be, usually about 10 minutes for me. I like the whites to be set and the yolks still runny enough to stir into the sauce.

Scoop two eggs and a generous serving of the sauce into a shallow bowl. Garnish with feta (my personal favorite) or a handful of your favorite shredded cheese, chopped parsley or cilantro, a dollop of plain yogurt, or whatever your heart desires.

Home is Where the Food Is: Spicy(ish) Syrian Potatoes

 As an aspiring culinary student, my daughter naturally asked for cookbooks for Christmas (we clearly don’t have enough of them in our house, LOL). My brother came through in spades with a beautiful, heartbreaking book full of stories from Syrian refugees and the recipes they shared with the authors. When Anna and I were both done reading it cover-to-cover (and crying), we immediately set to cooking from it.

I love cookbooks that read like stories. I realize that there is a widespread online impatience with authors/bloggers who write all sorts of extraneous information before actually getting to the recipe – guilty as charged. But it’s not just the taste/smell/staying alive part of food that I love. I want to hear the stories of why you liked something, or the times you’ve served it, or when you learned to make it. Food is love and home and culture and community and welcome and comfort and all sorts of other things. If I cook for you, you are part of my heart.

It’s fitting, then, that the first time we made these potatoes was for Falafel Night. Falafel Night, in case you’re not aware, is a Big Damn Deal around here; we use a recipe from a book my college roommate sent me from Dubai which involves overnight soaking of beans and grinding and the tedious, loving work of shaping each little oval individually. We only do it a couple of times of year, and always for people that are important to us. It inevitably turns into an orgy of overeating; this time around I made 4 pounds of grapeleaves that didn’t even last until the next day. In a world in which I had no other responsibilities than cooking, falafel would be a weekly event. And since that’s not realistic, these wonderful potatoes will have to do.

While I realize that garlic makes everything magical, the real star here is the Aleppo pepper. I’ve never seen it at a regular grocery store, although markets and high-end chains that sell spices in bulk may carry it. The most reliable source for most people will be Penzey’s spices. Aleppo pepper is dark red and not quite as hot as the red chile flakes you probably have in your cupboard; the flavor is something like what might happen if an ancho chile had a fling with a raisin. I’ll be sure to let you know if I ever fiddle around enough to make a spice mix that approximates it, but I just bought a big jar from Penzey’s so I don’t see that happening anytime soon.

I was going to see how the leftovers – hahahahahahaha, leftovers! Hahahahaha – ahem. I was going to see how the leftovers translated into some of my favorite breakfast dishes today, but the 4 of us ate all the potatoes last night at dinner. Guess I’ll have to make them again.  

Adapted with my editorial comments only from Our Syria:Recipes from Home by Itab Azzam and Dina Mousawi, a title that is even more heartbreaking once you read the stories in it. Never doubt that war is the cruelest thing humans can do.

Spicy Potatoes (Batata Harra)

4 medium yellow potatoes, peeled and cut into ¾-inch cubes (if you make a larger batch, use multiple baking sheets so the potatoes brown instead of steam)
Olive oil, for roasting
Salt, to taste
3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
2 red cayenne chiles, seeded and finely chopped (we’ve omitted these and the potatoes are still delicious; you could also substitute a milder chile for less heat)
1 bunch of cilantro, chopped
1 tablespoon ground Aleppo pepper

Heat the oven to 400.

Roast the potatoes with olive oil and salt for about 30 minutes, turning halfway through, or until they are a nice golden brown color (see above about the perils of doubling this and only wanting to wash one pan).

When the potatoes are almost done, quickly fry the garlic, childes, and half the cilantro until the garlic is golden. Once the potatoes are done, combine the garlic mixture with the potatoes, Aleppo pepper, and the remaining cilantro.

 

 

Cookbook Challenge #14: A Very Pleasant Pheasant

I’ll admit there was a little corner of my mind that was afraid 2020 was never going to end. I’d look at those memes that joked about the clock turning from 11:59 to 11:60 at midnight and give an uncomfortable little laugh – funny, but also not funny, amirite?

Now that we’re safely into 2021 by a couple of days – and let’s be real, so far it’s really just the same thing – it feels okay to look back at some things. Folks, we didn’t have the worst quarantine in the world. Yes, it was hard not seeing people. Yes, masks are uncomfortable. Yes, the degree of fear and uncertainty in the world right now is demoralizing. But we have been touched so lightly by this overall that I feel bad for complaining. David still has his job, the kids are doing as well (or better) in online school as they were in person, none of us have been sick, our family and friends are still here. We know many people who cannot say the same. And I’m well aware that it’s not over yet even if the turning of a new calendar year has given us a much-needed boost of optimism.

Christmas was a low-key affair, as it was for so many people; and while our Almond Boneless Chicken feast is still traditional, we spent Christmas Eve eating leftover curry in our pajamas rather than seeing the extended family, and Solstice dinner happened a day late because John’s karate test got rescheduled. All the more reason to make it really memorable.

Skeptics will look at this recipe and say, who the hell has pheasants lying around? And when am I going to want to set something on fire? The answer is: someone whose daughter’s boyfriend hunts (or has a good grocery store nearby, or is willing to pay D’Artagan.com prices), and more often than you might have supposed. Nothing ratchets up the festivities like fire! Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Yuletide carols being sung by a fire, Santa coming down the chimney (okay, fire-adjacent, ideally), etc etc.

I’m not a fan of the current competition-driven version of The Food Network, but back when their hosts were only moderately famous-ish people without kitchenware product lines, I was a huge fan of the Two Fat Ladies. I discovered this show around the same time I discovered I loved food. In my next life, I want to go toodling around the countryside in a motorcycle with a sidecar, drinking and swearing and eating all the good things and meeting interesting people. I don’t know why I don’t look at this cookbook more often because it’s really not particularly daunting; and I knew I could count on Clarissa and Jennifer to have at least one great recipe for pheasant – after all, it’s in the theme song. 

The header begins, “This is a sumptuous way of preparing pheasant” which should brace you for what’s to come. Two average-sized birds fed four of us to the point where we all went and laid down on the couch and unbuttoned our pants afterwards. Save this for an occasion with elastic waistbands and people you love.

Adjusted ever-so-slightly from Cooking with the Two Fat Ladies by Clarissa Dickson Wright and Jennifer Paterson.

 Pheasant Normandy

4 sweet, firm apples (firm is more important than sweet here – you can adjust the sugar if needed)
1 stick butter
1 teaspoon brown sugar
2 pheasants
2/3 cup Calvados
2 ½ cups heavy cream, more or less
Salt and freshly ground pepper

Peel and core the apples, cut them into rings, and fry them in 4 tablespoons of butter. Add the sugar and cook until they are beginning to turn golden brown. Set aside.

Melt the rest of the butter in a Dutch oven large enough to hold both birds. Brown the birds on all sides, making sure they’re coated with butter. Cover and bake at 375 for 40 minutes, or on the stovetop for roughly the same amount of time.

When the birds are tender, transfer them to a cutting board. Carve the meat into serving-size pieces (leave the legs whole). Set aside.

Turn the heat up under the pan until the butter and pan juices are bubbling, then add the Calvados and SET FIRE TO IT. (Super fun!) Tilt the pan and roll the mixture around until the flames subside or you start to get freaked out by how long this has been burning and put the lid back on. Be brave, my friends: The burning part goes on for a bit. A couple of hints: Use the super-long lighter you use for your grill, and don’t wear fabric oven mitts.

Once the flames are extinguished (by whatever means), add the cream and cook, stirring, until the sauce thickens. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Arrange the pheasant pieces on a nice serving dish with sides, put the apples on top, and pour the sauce over the whole thing.

I took the Ladies’ advice and made a very simple side with this, brown and wild rice cooked with a little stock and a simple lettuce salad with vinaigrette. This is utterly delicious but very rich; possibly you will be too full for dessert. Dining by candlelight recommended.