Sometimes, I wonder what we all ate before Yotam Ottolenghi came along. Imagine a world without supermarket own-brand tahini, where za’atar was just a Scrabble high-score, and parsley came in decorative sprigs rather than great zesty pawfuls. How terribly dull breakfast must have been before the wonderfully exotic-sounding shakshuka entered our national vocabulary.
Indeed, Sarit Packer and Itamar Srulovich, who left the Ottolenghi stable to open up on their own, say their restaurant Honey & Co gets “a surprising number of calls asking if we serve shakshuka”. Though this spicy tomato-and-egg dish has its origins in North Africa, the Israeli duo put its popularity down to the fact that it’s what “most people conjure up when they think of a Middle Eastern breakfast”.
The appeal is no mystery – for the three people in Britain who haven’t yet succumbed, the key to this very simple one-pot meal is in the name, which pleasingly, means to mix or shake up, depending on the language concerned. The things being mixed, or shaken up are sauteed vegetables, spices and eggs, but which vegetables, which spices, and even the kind of egg, vary wildly according to region, season and the person cooking it. What doesn’t change is the flavour punch this dish packs; just the thing for a weekend brunch, or a satisfying, and satisfyingly cheap supper. Thanks Yotam. The nation owes you one.
Tomatoes
Tomatoes are the backbone of shakshuka, and almost the only thing all the recipes I try have in common apart from eggs, though they deploy them in different forms. Claudia Roden and Ottolenghi use the fresh variety, and Roden even peels them, while Packer and Srulovich’s Honey & Co Baking Book calls for tomato puree diluted with water. Sally Butcher’s Snackistan calls for a combination of fresh tomatoes, puree and tomato juice, and Doktor Shakshuka, a Tel Aviv institution, allows for the use of fresh or tinned tomatoes, a concession that outrages one reader, who comments below: “Never, never use canned tomatoes in shakshuka! It’s meant to use very ripe or overripe tomatoes that are no longer good for salad.”
If you live in climes where ripe or overripe tomatoes are but a distant dream at the moment, then I’d go so far as to recommend the tinned variety however; puree tastes too jammy, and feels too smooth, while even pricey vine tomatoes will inevitably disappoint at this time of year, giving dishes a watery flavour. For those of you reading this in sunnier circ*mstances, substitute the same weight of roughly chopped fresh fruit; I wouldn’t bother peeling them.
Aromatics
The recipes are divided between those who flavour their shakshuka with onion (Roden, Ottolenghi), those who go for garlic (Doktor Shakshuka, Packer and Srulovich) and Butcher, who uses both. This does not seem to be a dish that’s designed to be subtle – the Honey & Co recipe calls for a whopping 15 cloves of garlic (“this is no mistake”) – and I think the two bring different enough things to the party, the onion supplying sweetness, the garlic a keenly savoury note, to justify using them together. Though not in quite such outrageous quantities as Packer and Srulovich, just in case anyone’s thinking of getting on a crowded bus afterwards.
Vegetables
In truth, shakshuka will happily accommodate just about anything you care to throw at it, Roden noting in her Book of Jewish Food that in Tunisia “a variety of vegetables, from potatoes and broad beans to artichoke hearts and courgettes” are fair game. In Israel, however, “the version with onions, peppers and tomatoes” is the most popular, though Packer and Srulovich, and Doktor Shakshuka even eschew the peppers.
Personally I like the contrast between the sweetness of red and the bitterness of green peppers, but Ottolenghi favours red and yellow, and Roden and Butcher use just one or the other. Butcher also adds diced courgette in her avowedly Tunisian recipe, while Roden suggests adding boiled potatoes as a variant to her version, both of which prove effective for bulking the dish out. (I also rather like the idea of adding aubergine, though none of the recipes suggest it.)
Spices
The only spice all the recipes have in common is chilli; from Packer and Srulovich’s smoked paprika and cayenne pepper to Roden’s fresh chilli and Butcher’s harissa, they all pack a bit of punch. Though in general I’m a big fan of smoky flavours, in this case I think ordinary sweet paprika works better – the smoky sort feels too overpowering for the dish – while a dash of cayenne adds a cleaner heat.
Cumin is another popular choice, and I love the earthy crunch of Ottolenghi’s seeds as opposed to the more common ground stuff. That’s as far as I’m going to go (who wants to be rooting around the back of the spice drawer before noon on a Saturday?) but if you want to add yet more oomph you can go herbaceous and add thyme and bay, like Ottolenghi, or sweet, like Packer and Srulovich and their caraway seeds and cinnamon.
Eggs
Not much to say about these, except for the fact that they should be cooked slowly, as Ottolenghi recommends, to keep the yolk as soft as possible, and that, should it all go wrong, you can always scramble them into the dish on the grounds that if Roden suggests it, then it must be OK. Doktor Shakshuka advises breaking the yolks, presumably to help them cook, but as it’s the whites that set first, I don’t see much point.
Extras
Ottolenghi starts his dish with a generous amount of oil – it should be rich, but not queasily so given the egg yolk which will also come into play, so I’ve cut this down slightly. He and Packer and Srulovich also sweeten their sauces with a little sugar, and the latter balances it with lemon juice, explaining that it “should hit all the right notes: sweet, sour, salty and spicy”. Both seem excellent ideas, especially when using tinned tomatoes, though if you’re not, employ your own judgment as to whether your sauce needs either.
A handful of soft herbs such as parsley or my preferred coriander adds freshness to the finished dish, as well as looking rather pretty, and you can also sprinkle over crumbled feta or spicy sausage, or dollop on some labneh, as suits your mood and the contents of your fridge. Bread is, of course, the essential accompaniment for mopping up sauce and yolk. Bread and, to my mind, strong dark coffee or a tumbler of spicy red, depending on the time of day.
The perfect shakshuka
(Serves 4, with bread)
Feel free to swap the peppers for one medium aubergine, or two courgettes, or four medium boiled potatoes as desired.
4 tbsp olive oil
1 onion, finely sliced
1 red pepper, diced
1 green pepper, diced
6 garlic cloves, crushed
2 tsp sweet paprika
½ tsp cumin seeds
½-1 tsp cayenne pepper
800g tinned tomatoes (or ripe tomatoes in season)
2 tsp sugar
1 tbsp lemon juice
4-8 eggs, depending on hunger
Small bunch of fresh coriander, roughly chopped
Heat the oil in a large lidded frying pan over a medium heat and add the onion. Cook until golden, then add the peppers. Fry until both are soft, then stir in the garlic and spices and cook for another couple of minutes.
Pour in the tomatoes and roughly mash. Stir in the sugar and lemon juice, bring to a boil, then turn down the heat and simmer for 30 minutes. Taste and season, adding more cayenne if you prefer it spicier.
Make 4-8 divots in the sauce and break in the eggs. Season them lightly, turn the heat right down as low as possible, cover and cook for about 10 minutes until they’re just set. Sprinkle with coriander and serve.
Shakshuka: lifelong fan, recent convert, or frankly couldn’t care less unless there’s bacon involved? And which other hearty brunch one-pots would you recommend for the morning after the night before? Tell us below the line.
