Stories We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Eat
Stories We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Eat
Eggs Burning in Hell From New Jersey
The Sopranos, the television drama about a New Jersey mob boss who struggles to balance work—strip clubs, gambling, and the occasional murder—with family and sessions with his therapist, is a masterpiece of storytelling. Not long after I became obsessed with the show, I discovered The Sopranos Family Cookbook.
A cookbook was a fitting merchandise tie-in not only because of the characters’ Italian heritage, but because food was an important storytelling device and theme throughout The Sopranos, leaving clues for the audience and foreshadowing events, and furnishing Tony’s pathology. At the start of the show, Tony has a panic attack and collapses while barbecuing. He and his therapist eventually work out that it was triggered by the sight of meat — a suppressed trauma from Tony’s childhood discovery that his father managed to put steak on the dinner table by extorting (and worse) the local butcher. A later panic attack is triggered by the sight of gabagool.
The show’s controversial and ambiguous final scene takes place at Holsten’s Diner in New Jersey. Tony, his wife Carmela, and son Anthony, Jr., each eat an onion ring. I won’t say what happens next, but there have been countless forums, discussions, re-caps and blogs dissecting the final scene, and many believe many clues are in the diner itself, and the small crumbs of foreshadowing that reach back to the very first episode.
The Sopranos Family Cookbook contains instructions for all kinds of family-style Italian feasts. Eggs in Purgatory is one of the simplest recipes. The exact origins of this dish are unknown; it is often associated with Catholicism, with the eggs representing souls and the tomato sauce serving as purgatory. But it’s also possible that it is based on a much older North African dish, shakshouka.
Either way, it’s easy enough to make: heat some olive oil, onion, and garlic in a frying pan, add some chopped tomatoes, basil, salt, and pepper. Once the tomatoes simmer, crack a couple of eggs into the pan, and the tomatoes will poach them nicely. I call my version Eggs Burning in Hell because I like to season the dish with fresh chilies, chili flakes, and chopped-up hot sausages.
Whenever I make it, I like to wonder where Tony Soprano ended up, and whether he’s still eating gabagool straight out of the fridge, or watching TV with a bowl of ice cream on his chest.