Sometimes, I need to get my veggies on–and in chewable form, not just that green glass of juice I’ve been throwing back for breakfast. And one blog I can count on to deliver veggie-licious recipes is Joanne’s. I also love one-skillet meals because they’re so perfect for weeknights, so when I saw this recipe I made it within about 5 days of first setting eyes on it.

I LOVE it–and I don’t break out the caps for just any recipe. It is so satisfying, so healthy, so full of good stuff, I could eat it every day. Forever.

I modified the recipe, using kale instead of swiss chard. I really love kale. I liken it to spinach with a little more vim. It doesn’t wilt quite as much but retains its shape better, and has a little crunch to it if you know what I mean, instead of feeling slightly soggy in your mouth like spinach can do if overcooked.

Adapted from Joanne’s post (who in turn adapted it from Bon Appetit December 2011), you guys should seriously consider making this for about 10 minutes–and then you should make it.

My husband dubbed it “Popeye’s Disappointment” for reasons unclear to me. Perhaps because it looks like spinach–but isn’t? Who knows. But I don’t care what he calls it as long as we can put it on the menu time and again.

Ingredients

 (Serves 4)

1 TBS olive oil
1 onion
6 cloves garlic
2 jalapeños
2 bunches kale
1 (15 oz) can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
2 tsp smoked paprika
1 tsp ground cumin
1-28 oz can whole peeled tomatoes
Salt and pepper, to taste
1 cup crumbled feta cheese
4 large eggs
1 TBS chopped flat-leaf parsley

Preheat the oven to 425 F.

Chop up the onion, de-seed and mince the chilies, and mince the garlic.

Heat the olive oil over medium high heat in a large (12’’) oven-proof skillet (such as cast iron) and sauté the onion, garlic, and chilies until softened, about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

I like to toss in a little salt and pepper as they fry. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but seasoning the ingredients in stages, as they go into the dish, seems to build the flavor.

Wash and chop the kale leaves, discarding the tough stems.

Rinse the chickpeas too–the liquid in the can is slimy and gross.

Add the kale to the skillet and cook for about 3 minutes, allowing it to wilt.

I added it in two batches, and don’t worry–it cooks waaaay down, much like spinach.

Add the chickpeas, cumin, and paprika to the skillet and cook for 2 minutes.

Add the tomatoes to the skillet, stir them in and break them apart with a wooden spatula.

You can also crush them with your bare hands beforehand, but I chose not to.

Bring the sauce to a boil; turn down the heat to medium-low and simmer for 15 minutes, letting the sauce thicken.

Season with salt and pepper to taste. I added a goodly amount of both.

At this point, I felt moved to crack the eggs into individual little containers. I don’t know why, but the urge was irresistible.

They look so . . . cute.

Sprinkle the feta cheese evenly over the sauce and crack the eggs on top, evenly spaced.

Transfer the skillet to the oven and bake for 7-10 minutes, until the whites are set but the yolks are still runny.

Since my husband is entirely averse to runny yolks, I let mine go for more like 15 minutes, and cranked the heat up a little higher. The poor guy doesn’t know what he’s missing, but what can you do with a drunken sailor, what can you do with a drunken sailor, what can you do with a drunken sailooooor eeeearly in the mooorniiiiing?

That musical question was purely rhetorical, since my husband is neither a sailor nor drunk.

And I have to concede that even with hard yolks, it was still 1000% delicious.

Garnish with parsley and serve over rice!

Guys, it’s so good I can’t even believe it. The smoky paprika lends it a flavor that brought back so many good childhood feelings for me, since it’s a spice Spaniards use frequently (pimentón).

Plus, it’s such a beautiful dish with the white eggs and cheese, red sauce, and green kale and parsley.

I could look at it for hours. And eat it for hours. And commune with the happiness it produces in my stomach for hours.

Until the urge for a big, juicy rib-eye with a pile of thick, greasy fries hits me . . . and then beware.

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