There are so many reasons to adore shakshuka, but that savory gush of runny egg yolk is high on the list.
That dish, a North African staple, involves poaching eggs in a quickly simmered, heavily spiced tomato-pepper sauce.
This recipe retains shakshuka’s eggy allure, but instead of being red, spicy and tangy, it’s green, mellow and porky. Most important, it’s a satisfying, one-pan meal that’s just as easy to throw together for a Tuesday dinner as it is for a weekend breakfast, even before your second cup of tea.
Ramps, or scallions, give this dish a sweet, oniony foundation.CreditCon Poulos for The New York Times. Food Stylist: Simon Andrews
The green hues come from chard, lots of it. I stew it gently but persistently until it almost breaks down, absorbing the flavors of the pancetta fat and olive oil, and turning into a plush nest to cook the eggs. Low heat is your friend here: You want to give the chard a chance to soften but not brown. It will take 20 minutes or so. That’s when you can toast up some thick slices of country bread to serve alongside, and drink your tea, or open the wine. The sublimely silky texture of the greens makes them worth the wait.
Since I also include the stems, I like to use rainbow or red chard. They are prettiest, adding flashes of pink and gold amid the dark leaves. But Swiss chard tastes just as good, even if the presentation is a bit more subtle. You could also use spinach, which has the advantage of cooking faster and breaking down more completely than chard. But I always miss those juicy bits of chard stem studded throughout the leaves.
Those stems are sautéed along with the white bulbs from either ramps, if you can get them, or scallions. They give the dish a sweet, oniony foundation that plays off the saltiness of the pancetta.
And I particularly like pancetta here because it’s not smoked, so you get all the funky, meaty notes purely, without distraction.
At the very end, when the vegetables have collapsed thoroughly, it will be time to add the eggs. Heat them briefly, for 5 to 7 minutes, tops. You want them cooked but still quivering, with yolks ready to escape with the gentlest nudge. Scooping the finished dish from the pan to plate is the only slightly tricky part of the whole recipe. You don’t want to burst the yolks. That fleeting joy is always best left to the diner.
