Menemen (the stove top edition)

With little else than feta and tomatoes in the fridge on a Sunday morning, what is a girl to do?

Make menemen.

This weekend's festivities have left me feeling my age. I do realise that one's mid-twenties does still fall under the 'spring chicken' category, but two nights of boozy social events left me feeling, well, like I was too old to be feeling as badly as I did this morning.

While staring bleakly into the florescent expanse, three sad eggs called out 'menemen'. Feeling the need for a bit of a refresher on method, I turned to Google, and the results were anything but helpful. Search results varied from the truly disgusting to the city of Menemen, Turkey, to the traditional, though vague.

The menemen I had eaten and since dreamed about was always served in metallic bowls, the sucuk (spicy sausage) crispy and bubbling against the slightly browned edges. Clearly, these were finished over a high flame or a broiler. Lacking in any oven-proof pans to speak of, I decided to go at it on the gas hob.

I first combined the following in a bowl:

2 ripe tomatoes, chopped
3 garlic cloves, peeled, smashed & minced
2 medium-sized shallots, peeled & minced
1 Tbs. sumac
Turkish red pepper (pul biber), to taste

I then let this sit while whisking these:

3 eggs
2 tsp. dried parsley
1/4 c. milk
Salt and ground black pepper

I coated the pan in olive oil and threw in the tomaotes.
I let these cook on medium-high heat for a minute or so, enough time for the shallots to soften but careful not to burn the garlic.

Then the eggs went in:









A few gentle nudges with the wooden spoon ensured that the tomato mixture was equally distributed and that the eggs in direct contact with the pan would not burn.


At this point it is best to drop the heat, add the feta, and cover for about 8 minutes. Count on at least one minute per inch of pan diameter. With a bit of toasted bread and a strong coffee, I was feeling myself again.

Traditionally, mild green peppers and/or sucuk are added, but I didn't have any, so there you are! Some non-traditional additions might include goat's cheese, brie, or left over roasted vegetables. This dish will beat a boring omlette or fritata any day.

Two Days, Two Dozen Eggs: Part 2

For E.'s housewarming party this weekend I decided to go retro. Devilled eggs retro.

I was determined to make these the ultimate devilled egg, no ordinary oeuf mimosa. My instincts told me that despite the recipe’s European origins in ancient Rome and Andalusia, it might have been a while since the devilled egg made an appearance on the Oxford dinner party scene. I was right.

These little beauties were met with a bit of apprehension, and most of our friends went for the crisps and E.’s delectable bruschetta before venturing over to the Pyrex casserole lids filled with eggs (when one is many moons away from places where devilled egg serving plates are easily procured, one improvises). Somehow, though, by the end of a very enjoyable evening, the lids were empty...

Here is my version:1 dozen eggs

¼ cup mayonnaise

1 ½ Tbs. Dijon mustard

1 tsp. Worcestershire sauce

2 shallots, minced

2 Tbs. capers, drained and minced

1-2 Tbs. sambal oelec

3-4 dashes Tabasco

Salt and pepper to taste

1. Boiling the eggs

Here I decided to consult Julia Child’s egg chapter in The Way to Cook (my culinary Bible for methods), and it worked beautifully. Place the eggs in enough warm water so that the water level is at least one inch above the eggs. Bring the pot to a boil and then immediately pop the lid on the pot of water and remove from the heat, allowing the eggs to sit for exactly 17 minutes. Then, shock the eggs in cold water (this will prevent that woeful, nasty brownish/green discoloration around the yolk) for two minutes. Finally, pour boiling water over the cooked, cooled eggs, and peel. The temperature shock of cold water followed by boiling water will cause the membrane around the egg to release from the white more easily, making the peeling process far easier.

2. Filling

Halve the eggs (I found that cleaning the knife with a damp paper towel between slicing helped to make cleaner cuts) and add the yolks to the other ingredients listed. The filling is, of course, subject to personal taste, but I must say that the sambal oelek chilli paste really worked a dream! Place the mixture in a piping bag with a star tip and fill the white cavities.

The frizzled shallots are optional. But so good!

Remember the lemon curd from Part 1?

Try dipping shortbread cookies in it and dust with confectioner’s sugar.