Shakshuka is one of the few foods that gives humble canned tomatoes a starring role. In this version, tomatoes share the stage with an unlikely partner: squash. The combination creates a dish that's all about balance. The starchy squash cuts the tomatoes' acidity, and the spices lend plenty of heat, tempered with just enough creaminess by the barely cooked eggs. Even with everything else going on, you're gonna want to invest in as decent a can of tomatoes as your grocery store and wallet will allow. I went with Gustarosso San Marzanos, but as long as the label says whole (don't worry if it doesn't specify "plum") and with juices, you're good to start shakshukin'.
(Just want the recipe? Click here!)
First, give that oven knob a spin to 375 degrees. Then pop open your 28-ounce can of tomatoes (the BIG size) and dump the contents in a bowl. Here's where you need to decide what kind of cook you're feeling like tonight. If you're down to get soulful with this meal, pour a glass of wine, put on some Whitney or Toni or Mariah, and get your hands in that bowl of tomatoes because you're going to crush it, literally.
If not, use a fork.
Do that for a while until the tomatoes are broken up but not totally destroyed. Think Gwyneth and Chris, not Katie and Tom. Set that bowl of mutual differences aside and dig out half a butternut squash. Remember the squash you had left over from the cacio e pepe butternut? Squash half, your time has come. Cut it into chunks. I like a large bite of squash, but go with what feels right. While you're knife-wielding, chop a medium onion and 2 cloves of garlic, too.
Heat 3 tablespoons olive oil in a skillet that can go in the oven. If you don't have an ovenproof skillet, you can use a Dutch oven or another type of pot, just be aware that the tomatoes won't cook down as much and you'll end up with a more liquid-y but equally delicious shakshuka. Belt out the first half of "Always Be My Baby" until it gets too high for you, by which time the oil will be hot. Throw the squash, onion, and garlic in the pan and cook over medium heat, stirring when you think of it, until three pop songs or ten minutes have passed. The squash should be tender, like your vocal cords.
Go bold with the salt and pepper, then stir in 2 tablespoons ancho chile powder (or any chili powder you find). Let that hang out for a minute while you revisit your tomatoes.
Remember those tomatoes? They've been stewing in their tomato juices, hoping you'll take them back. Raise the heat to medium-high and slide them into the pan along with 2 tablespoons sambal oelek. (I used chili garlic sauce, and everything turned out fine.) Let that bubble away until the sauce is thick and starting to look shakshukan. The shorter the sides on your pan, the faster this will happen, but you're looking at another 5–10 minutes here.
Some of you will want to crack your 4 eggs separately so you can remove any shell bits. That's fine. You're probably the same people who crushed your tomatoes with a fork. But if you're a few tracks into The Bodyguard soundtrack and feeling like every woman (or man), take a big spoon and make four indents in the shakshuka, then crack those eggs on the side of the pan and drop them straight into their little egg beds.
Put the pan in the oven and forget it, but not before setting a timer for 10 minutes. Consider throwing some pita in the oven to warm or, uh, opening a bag of pita chips, while Googling "how to get better at karaoke."
Take out the shakshuka when the egg whites are set and the yolks are as runny as bitter tears or however you like to eat your eggs.
Garnish with cilantro unless you totally forgot to get cilantro, in which case just grab a spoon. Or a fork. What IS the right utensil for shakshuka? Oh, it's that pita. Start dipping.
Get the Recipe:
