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There was a time, only a few months ago, when shakshuka wasn’t part of my cooking rotation.

I’d come across these eggs, baked with Moroccan or Tunisian ingredients – usually a mix of tomatoes, chili peppers, and onions, and sometimes with some additional spice (e.g. harissa) and/or cheese (e.g. feta). Smitten Kitchen has a version, the New York Times has one too, David Lebovitz – well, of course, he’s based in Paris, a city that thrives on North African food. The Italians even have a version, called “Eggs in Purgatory”. Shakshuka is – as my 102-year-old grandmother would say – all the rage. Check out Feed Feed where your search for shakshuka will deliver nearly 200 results. That’s a lot of spicy eggs.

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Once you’ve made shakshuka – or any kind of spicy baked egg dish, you’ll see why it’s become so popular.

1. It’s super simple, taking only minutes to cook…just a little more tim than it would take to remove the dreaded Eggo from the freezer, pop it into the toaster, and be doused in maple syrup.

2. It’s endlessly adaptable….this version of shakshuka has barely any tomato – and virtually no sauce. The eggs are cooked in a bed of onion and green pepper, and then topped with whatever ingredients I had available in the fridge. Add this dish to the arsenal of fridge dumping meals that includes fried rice and vegetarian lasagna. And don’t we all need a few more fridge dumping meals in our lives? Your wilting vegetables would clearly prefer a spicy shakshuka fate than a trip to the garbage can.

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One of the inconveniences of a New York City apartment is the noise.

Say, for instance, you live on the North side of the street, with your window facing an apartment complex that’s filled with 23-year olds, fresh out of college, living the dream.

Say there’s a courtyard separating both buildings, and that like all people in their early 20s, these young adults like to party.

Say these parties happen in the teensy gardens of their ground floor apartments, and that they happen from the hours of 11PM until 1AM, sometimes later.

It’s annoying, but that’s what headphones are for.

Come 9:30PM or 10PM each night, after reading a chapter or two of my latest book, I retrieve an eye mask from my nightstand, switch my phone to airplane mode, and turn on the soothing sounds of ocean waves.

Rodney, on the other hand, chooses to go naked. Ear naked, not naked naked.

It’s smooth sailing on most nights. But on the evenings when the weather’s warm, the stars are shining, and the 20 somethings are in the mood to knock back some craft beers with their 50 closest friends, we’re in deep.

We had one of those nights recently.

Rodney, at 10PM interrupted me as the ocean waves were kicking in.

“I need your help, it’s getting loud outside. It’s a 2-man job. You need to hold the window screen open while I throw the water. That way I’ll have time to duck back inside without them noticing where it came from.”

Raising my contoured floral eye mask, I asked the obvious. “What are you 90?”

His response seemed to indicate that he is, in fact, 90. “I’m thinking one of those big buckets – the ones that hold a lot of volume. You just lift and I’ll spray. I really need Chris right now.” Chris being our friend in the building who hates the noise as much as Rodney. “Chris would help me throw eggs at them.”

What I wanted to tell my husband is that a chicken somewhere in Upstate New York didn’t give birth to big, beautiful blue-shelled eggs with golden yolks, so that they could end up in a shattered mess, drying against a pair of J Brands.

The only job required of these eggs is to allow me to purchase them at the farmers’ market for whatever full price the farmer is charging, carry them home gingerly in a burlap sac, and make them into breakfast.

Although I didn’t tell him that, I did tell him to knock it off and go to sleep.

But here, I must confess to an even worse egg crime: until this year, I didn’t know how properly cook an egg.

And I’m guessing that many of you are in the same boat. We have a general sense for how to cook eggs, but there’s room for improvement. Even restaurant chefs don’t always get it right. Ask Thomas Keller, who has claimed for years that the real test of a chef isn’t his or her ability to put together an elaborate dish; rather, it’s how you treat something humble, like an egg.

So, to prevent any ongoing egg shame, and the destruction of these gorgeous farm stand eggs, I thought I’d share a few tricks that I’ve learned along the way. I will fully admit that if I were to draw an egg continuum, I’d place myself here:

Total Disaster –––––––X––– Total Master

But still above average with some hard-won wisdom to share, so here we go:

Soft boiled eggs:

Soft boiled eggs were a mystery to me until I learned about the perfect 6-minute egg. My previous technique was a common one that you’ll find online; start the eggs in cold water, bring them to a boil, turn off the heat, and let them sit in the water, covered for 10 minutes. At which point I’d dunk them into ice water, and attempt to peel their shells, which generally removed half of the white in ragged chunks.

This technique has never worked for me. I don’t care what all of the online sources
say about not letting your eggs bounce around in the boiling water. I’d rather have an egg that I can peel properly than one whose white has not been “traumatized” by boiling water. And yes, I’ve tried the peeling tricks- the spoon, the Tim Ferris technique, which I talked about in this post; I even once bought something called The Eggstractor, which I saw on an infomercial. I learned a valuable lesson that with the exception of Snuggies, one should never buy anything from an infomercial.

If you haven’t been doing this to date, and want to achieve the creamy consistency of that perfect ramen egg, try this method – it’s the only thing I’ve found to work.

The technique: Bring your eggs to room temp (about half an hour outside of the fridge before you cook them). Bring your water to a boil, drop the eggs in, and set your timer for 6 minutes. After 6 minutes, scoop them out with a strainer, run for a few seconds under cold water, and peel. Boom, perfect egg.

For some reason, (and I’m guessing here) but the agitation in the boiling water seems to crack the shell ever so slightly, which allows the shell to separate from the egg white, making it far easier to peel. And 6 minutes is the lucky number. I’ve never once had it fail.

Want a firmer egg? Check out how much time is needed for each of the following yolk centers…

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Fried eggs:

Over the years, I’ve become much more adept at flipping over easy eggs without breaking the yolks. But even when done correctly, the yolk is always cooked a little more than I’d like it to be. And sunny side up eggs have too much uncooked white on top for my taste.

Although this is by no means revolutionary, the perfect solution came to me years after I’d started to cook. I discovered it while eating some restaurant corned beef & hash with a perfect egg on top and I had to smack myself in the head for not thinking of it. Fried eggs, with a perfectly (slightly) cooked top, and a runny center.

The technique: Add some butter to a pan on medium heat. Crack two eggs into the pan, and at the point where you would normally flip the eggs, simply cover the pan with a lid so that the top of the eggs firm up ever so slightly.

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EggsOnSaladI’ve stopped counting the number of eggs I eat in a day.  It’s grotesque.  But you just can’t beat them for their portability and nutritional punch.  I keep them in my fridge, hard-boiled and wrapped in their protective shell, ready and waiting for those times when my stomach gets a little bitchy and starts growling at me to get her some grub or else….Well, I don’t know what the “or else” would be, but she has the ability to throw off my whole program if I go too long without feeding her.

Strangely enough, Tim Ferriss of the 4-Hour Workweek fame, seems to have a similar affinity for eggs, which I’ve learned from his incessant promotion of his latest book, the 4-Hour Chef.  Who knew the guy could cook.  I guess if he’s spending the other 164 hours of his week practicing Tango in Bolivia, body-building on Venice Beach and learning his 19th language, cooking ought to factor somewhere.  If you want to know more about Tim Ferriss and his eggs, you can check out his YouTube videos where he does odd things to them, like using baking soda to blow hard-boilers out of their shells. From the cheery confines of his dimly-lit kitchen where he may or may not be storing roadkill in his cabinets, you can catch a glimpse of Tim doing what he does best: smugly rocking your world.  Seriously, I have to try the hard-boiled egg trick.  It may be game-changing.

However, the goal of this post is not to talk about Tim Ferriss, but rather, my lunch.  I’ve made this meal a few times now, and each time I’m surprised by how good it is.  I’ve searched around online, and it seems that my idea is hardly novel: to top a puckeringly-bright green salad with scrambled eggs.  But somehow it feels original, even in its simplicity.

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