Shakshuka

Hello, boys and girls!

Welcome to cooking with Varun! Way back in the '90s, when I was much smaller, and far more socially awkward, my best friend, Parsi Drama Queen, who is one of the very best cooks I know, and I would spend the summer vacations at his house playing classic 8-bit video games (we finished Contra a few times!), or trump cards, or just hang out in his kitchen experimenting with the contents of his fridge. We'd whizz up milkshakes ranging from magical to to absolutely vile (we once did one so bad we nearly threw up), or he'd cook up the most brilliant akoori I had ever eaten. 

This one time, I was headed to his house for breakfast, and he was out of eggs so he asked me to pick some up from the store round the corner, which I did. I got to his place and we went into the kitchen to start cooking. We got a big bowl and started cracking eggs. 3 eggs in, we came across one with a little chip on the side. Not paying it a second thought, we cracked it into the bowl, and gagged as an absolutely horrendous odour engulfed us.  As the blue-black yolk of the rotten egg mixed in with the flawless others, Parsi Drama Queen ran into to the loo to (actually) throw up, and I realized that all the science text books in the world got it wrong; hydrogen sulphide does not smell like rotten eggs, it pales in comparison. A few moments later, a white faced, shaking Parsi Drama Queen came into the kitchen holding his breath and picked the bowl up. Holding the bowl in his still quivering hand at arms length, he took the bowl outside to his backyard, walked to wall dividing his backyard from his next door neighbour's, and proceeded to pour out the contents of the bowl on the other side. As the eggs slowly cooked on the burning hot floor in the stifling summer's heat of his fortunately vacant neighbour's yard, we opened all the windows in the kitchen to air his house out before his mum came home and killed us.

This recipe, thankfully, is rotten egg free, and is reminiscent of the most excellent Parsi, 'Tambota par edu'.

For my Shakshuka, you will need the following:

Eggs	2
Onion	1/2
Tomato	1/2
Peppers (red or green)	1/2
Garlic	1 clove
Chillies	1-2
Red chilli powder	1 tsp
Coriander powder	1 tsp
Cumin powder	1/2 tsp
Coriander leaves	tiny handful
Mint leaves	tiny handful
Salt	to taste
Oil

Prep:

1. Chop the onions.
2. Chop the tomatoes.
3. Chop the peppers.
4. Chop the chillies.
5. Mince the garlic.
6. Roughly chop the coriander, and mint leaves. 

Method:

1. Turn on the gas.
2. Bung a little pan on.
3. Splash in some oil.
4. Count to 20.
5. Roll in the chillies.
6. Pop in the garlic.
7. Cook for about 30 seconds.
8. Toss in the onions.
9. Cook until the onions go translucent.
10. Sprinkle on the red chilli powder, coriander powder, and cumin powder.
11. Mix well.
12. Pop in the tomatoes and peppers. (And a squirt of puree if you have some.)
13. Mix well and pop a lid on. (This is so the moisture doesn't all escape. You don't want it all dry.)
14. Cook until the oil separates from the tomatoes.
15. Add salt to taste.
16. Using your spatula, make 2 indentations or 'wells' in the mixture.
17. Crack an egg open in each of the wells.
18. Pop the lid back on until the egg cooks.
19. Take the lid off.
20. Turn the gas off.
21. Sprinkle some salt on the eggs.
22. Sprinkle the coriander, and mint leaves all over.
23. Serve with crusty bread.
24. Stuff face.
25. Bask in the glory of your successfully executed dish.

Tip: If you leave the lid on too long after you put the eggs in, the yolk will harden. For a runny yolk, make sure to get the lid off earlier. Also, to find out if your eggs are still good to eat, dunk them in a bowl of cold water; if they float, toss them.

And remember, overeating is a myth. A full tummy is a happy tummy!