seafood – Cooking the Books

March 9, 2024January 27, 2024

What’s a turnip?

Calculated Risks – Seanan McGuire

Disclaimer: This is the 10th book in a series, and the second in a mini-series featuring a recurring character, so to avoid any spoilers for anyone new to the series (and in an effort to hopefully convince anyone new to the series to give it a shot), I will simply (humbly) attempt to give a summary and review of the series overall.

Summary: There’s a religious order that is aware of “monsters”—otherwise known as cryptids, or species as yet identified by (and maybe hiding from) science—that hunts them down. There’s also a family whose previous generations worked for this order and who recognize that these creatures are no monsters and are deserving of protection, and the books follow this family and their descendents in their efforts to fight the real monsters and save the creatures.

At least one of the vegetables responsible for the brownish gravy that covered the whole thing shared enough of the chemical makeup of tomatoes to taste like paradise. The rest of the flavors were harder to define.
If that sounds weird, you try explaining what a turnip tastes like to someone who’s never tasted one. If you can manage anything better than “like a potato, but maybe sort of sweet,” you’re a culinary genius. Now imagine the person you’re talking to has never had a potato either. You have no common point of reference. I could tell I was eating something close to root vegetables, and some kind of herbs, and some kind of fungus, maybe, along with the large chunks of what could almost have been shrimp, and a piece of what was almost but not entirely like bread.
p. 289

As soon as I heard of Seanan McGuire’s fae series about October Daye, I went to the library to give the books a try. Within a matter of a few weeks, I’d caught up on the series and was mad that I’d spent so long denying my own interests to even consider giving such a book series a try. And yet. And yet I kept putting off reading her InCryptid series because it seemed sillier. As if sillier wasn’t exactly the sort of thing to appeal to me.

Then, well, you know, the world went into quarantine, and we all thought we might die of this new virus, and suddenly, silly was exactly what I needed. Then, like the Toby Daye series before it, I had caught up on the series within a matter of weeks, this time deciding to buy the trade paperbacks since libraries were often closed, or we feared this new virus as something potentially spread through touch (rather than air).

I managed to catch up before the last two books were released, and it’s been a struggle since to wait the time between publishing, while recognizing that McGuire is one of the more prolific authors and that authors are people living through the same times as the rest of us. Still, this series captivated me.

So, when the latest came out this past winter, I went back through not the entire series but more than half of it, the ones that centered on my favorite characters, and bits of my favorite moments.

For me, while I’d enjoyed the series through all its twists and turns to date, I fell in love with the youngest daughter of the main family branch (so far). I’m the oldest and nothing like Antimony, but her stories spoke to me, mostly because she was the odd man out, and who doesn’t love the black sheep? (I mean, several assholes don’t, but that’s not what we’re here to talk about.) When a perfectly perfect and dramatic arc finished with her, I almost doubted I could love any family member as much, and then along comes cousin Sarah. Introduced in the first book (and per McGuire, one of the first characters she imagined in this world), Sarah is given the spotlight in books 9 and 10, including Calculated Risks. Again, I don’t want to spoil the series, but I am happy to say that the distance between her introduction and her turn in the main role was worth the wait for having all the background of the world and the family to truly want to wrap your arms around someone who’d probably prefer you kept your distance lest she manipulate your mind.

While there’s plenty of other food items to spotlight throughout the series, I couldn’t help but return to the passage about the possible shrimp gumbo-like product discussed near the end of this book. I just loved the way McGuire both captured the flavors of something Sarah was bound to love while acknowledging how difficult it can be to define flavors, especially when the species you’re talking to may not be your own. I am a hater of the dreaded fungi, so I skipped that bit, but otherwise I did my best to envision what she described, and make it edible to a mere human palate.

Here’s what I did to make extra-dimensional gumbo:

Ingredients

Oil, for sauteing
1 lb. shrimp, peeled and deveined
12 oz. andouille/cajun sausage, sliced
1 onion, chopped
1 bell pepper, chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
½ c. lard (or butter or other fat)
½ c. flour
1 ½–2 qt. vegetable or chicken broth
1 (14 oz.) can diced tomatoes
1 (14 oz.) can black-eyed peas, drained and rinsed
12 oz. frozen sliced okra
1–2 T. creole seasoning
½ T. dried thyme
1 large (or 2–3 small) turnip, chopped
Cooked white rice, for serving
Scallions, for serving
Parsley, for serving
Bread, if desired and to match the book, for serving

Directions

Step 1: Add a small amount of oil to a large Dutch oven, and heat over medium heat. Add the shrimp and andouille, and saute until cooked through/browned. Use a slotted spoon to remove the meat, and set on a plate or in a bowl to cool.
Step 2: In the same Dutch oven, melt the lard/fat and slowly add the flour, whisking to combine. Cook, stirring constantly, until golden brown, 3–5 minutes.
Step 3: Add the onion, bell pepper, celery, and garlic, and cook in the roux until slightly softened, another 3–5 minutes.
Step 4: Slowly add the broth, adding a cup or so at a time, to ensure the mixture remains thick.
Step 5: Add the tomatoes, turnip(s), spices, and okra. Simmer the mixture for 40 minutes, covered, over low heat.
Step 6: Add in the black-eyed peas, and cook for another 20 minutes, covered.
Step 7: Add the meat into the mixture, and cook for about 5 minutes until reheated. Remove from heat and let cool slightly.
Step 8: Serve the soup over rice, with scallions, parsley, and bread (if using), and enjoy!

September 12, 2020

Savoring creamy salmon piccata

The first time I tasted chicken piccata was pretty much life-altering. I can’t say definitively that it was *the* recipe that made me want to up my cooking game, but it was pretty close.

I was living in rural North Dakota — before the oil boom — and there weren’t a lot of restaurant options; plus, I didn’t have a lot of money to eat out all the time (still don’t, in fact!). At the same time, there are only so many times you can cycle through the same handful of items you know how to make before you start looking for something, anything new.

At some point along that journey, I discovered the magical combination of flavors that make up a piccata: tart lemons, salty bursts of capers, a slight creaminess from butter, and the savoriness from a simple sauce mostly made of broth and wine. The plain-ish chicken breasts are just the perfect vehicle to enjoy the rest of the tastes on your tongue.

I like this classic dish so much, I made it into a trashy casserole that I like enough to have made multiple times.

So, as soon as I saw a recipe for a salmon piccata, my interest was piqued.

Unfortunately, the first two, yes TWO, recipes I came across for it had no exact measurements. Now, I’m not a super stickler for precision when I’m making dinner and not, say, a bread, but it helps to know a rough amount to ensure you end up with a sauce and not a soup.

I started Googling and found what turned out to be quite a few salmon piccata recipes. I found one that mostly suited my needs from a blog felicitously named Grateful that seemed similar to a handful of others I found, if not exact, so I mixed and matched a couple other ideas from other blogs to come up with what worked for me.

And well, since it met my tastes, I loved it. I served it with a side of orzo but any grain or pasta would make a great bed for this delicious — and extra creamy — sauce.

Here’s what I did:

Ingredients

2 T. olive oil
12 to 16 oz. skinless salmon filets
½ to 1 c. flour for dredging
Salt and pepper, to taste
1 T. garlic, minced
¾ c. plus 2 T. vegetable or chicken broth, divided
½ c. dry white wine
2 t. cornstarch
½ c. heavy cream
Juice from half a lemon, plus slices for serving
1 T. butter
2 T. minced fresh dill
2 ½ T. capers, rinsed
2 T. minced fresh parsley

Directions

Heat a 9- to 10-inch skillet nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add 1 T. olive oil.

Dab the salmon dry with paper towels. Dredge through the flour, seasoned with salt and pepper, and then place in skillet. Sear until bottom is golden brown, about 4 minutes. Carefully flip the fillets and then continue to cook until cooked through, about 2 to 3 minutes longer.

Transfer the salmon to a plate and cover with foil to keep warm.

Add the remaining olive oil and add garlic, sauteing until just brown, about 20 seconds. Pour in the broth, minus the 2 T., and wine and let simmer until broth is reduced by half, about 4 to 5 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a small bowl, mix the cornstarch with the 2 T. remaining broth, and then pour mixture into the reduced broth mixture and cook until thickened, stirring often, about 1 minute.

Stir in the cream, lemon juice, butter, and dill. Remove from heat and return salmon to the skillet. Spoon the sauce over the salmon fillets, and then sprinkle with capers and parsley. Serve with a small pasta, such as orzo, maybe some white wine, and enjoy!

March 21, 2020

Obligatory Lenten fish dish to happily enjoy year-round

Even though I’ve long since given up on giving up anything for Lent (or practicing Catholicism, for that matter), I still can’t help but mark the time of the year.

So, of course, I know that it’s the time of the year for fish Fridays (or possibly vegetarian, but if you’re my age and Midwestern, the idea of giving up “meat” entirely used to be unacceptable, so fish is not “meat,” but that’s a whole other discussion). I’ve also given up this practice, at least intentionally, but I do like a good excuse to make something with fish.

That is even more true as I practice sustainable fish-eating habits and have been sitting on 2 pounds of frozen haddock from my last trip to Whole Foods, where I can reliably get sustainable seafood. It turns out as much as I’m nostalgic for my Highlands honeymoon, I just don’t eat that much fried food, so it’s sat less used than I imagined when I bought it.

Thankfully, Jamie Oliver’s 5 Ingredients cookbook delivered with a “crazy simple” fish pie.

Not only was it an incredibly simple dish, it called for specifically haddock and still managed to recall my Highlands honeymoon even though we never had this particular meal there.

As the cookbook and this recipe’s name suggest, the pie is short on ingredients and crazy simple. It’s perfect for a weeknight meal, and yet still manages to taste like something special.

I even managed to use a much smaller skillet than called for and it all worked out (unlike some of my past plans), though it was slightly more juicy so maybe lay off the soaking water if you’re using a 9-inch skillet, but it still tasted great and I have no regrets.

It was a simpler time when I made this crazy simple (and delicious) fish pie.

Here’s what I did (following the simple recipe other than size of skillet — which was meant to be 30 cm instead of 22 cm, so anything in between should work fine — and I did sneak in an extra phyllo dough sheet):

Ingredients

1 lb. haddock, skin off
~2 T. olive oil, divided
2 bunches of spring onions, chopped white and light green parts
250 g. baby spinach (about 1 ½ standard bags, though I could’ve fit 2 bags and been happy to enjoy more spinach … so there is some leeway, depending on tastes)
150 g. cheddar cheese (I sprung for the good-ish stuff, and it was slightly less than 1 block of Kerrygold cheddar)
Pepper, to taste
5 sheets of phyllo dough (thawed)

Directions

Heat the oven to 400 degrees.

In a large bowl or casserole dish, cover the fish with boiling kettle water.

Meanwhile, heat a 9- to 10-inch skillet (or up to 12-inch) on medium-high heat. Add in 1 T. of olive oil, and then add the spring onions, and pan fry for about 2 minutes. Add in the spinach in batches until all is wilted down, and then remove from heat.

Add a scant ½ c., maybe less if using a smaller skillet, of the fish-soaked water to the skillet, and then drain the remaining water from the fish. Break up the fish fillets using a fork and then place around the skillet. Grate over *most* of the cheddar, and season with black pepper. Layer 4 of the pieces of phyllo dough on top and slightly around the ingredients to form a pie topping. Tear up the last piece in a “nutty fashion,” per the recipe, sprinkle the top with the remaining cheese, and drizzle on the remaining olive oil.

Bake the pie for 15 to 17 minutes until golden and crisp, and enjoy!

December 14, 2019

She’s got to have gumbo

With this post, I have only two more weeks with the Dutch oven, and I’ve had those last two recipes planned for a little while now.

The only question was what to do for my third to last post of the year. And as I searched through my list, and knowing that I had a recent shipment of Cajun meats, there really could only be one answer: Gumbo.

Ever since I first tried this stew/soup, this Midwestern gal has loved every bit of it. The meat, the vegetables, the fat, the roux, the way the flavors combine, and the way it all comes together in a beautiful presentation.

I’ve made it several different ways over the years, one time cheekily making it vegetarian by using fake chicken meat and sausage. My typical method, though, involves actual chicken and andouille sausage.

But this time I’d ordered some tasso ham (and, of course, some andouille sausage) from my favorite D’artagnan along with some other meat I need for my last Dutch oven meal of the year. And I happened to have about a pound of shrimp in my freezer. I’d never made it with seafood or ham but gumbo is nothing if not adaptable.

Readers, I think it was my finest attempt yet. Of course, I probably say that every time (OK, the vegetarian one was not the best). It’s just amazing.

It doesn’t look delicious, but trust me, this is some of the best tasting food in the world. And I have leftovers.

Here’s what I did:

Ingredients

½ c. oil/fat (lard or butter are my preferences)
½ c. flour
1 onion, chopped
1 ½ bell pepper, chopped
2-3 stalks celery, chopped
10 oz. okra, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 quarts chicken stock (preferably homemade, and most stocks would work … maybe not beef)
½ T. paprika (I like a combo of smoked and hot)
Cayenne pepper, to taste
2 t. garlic powder
2 t. oregano
1 t. celery seeds (optional)
1 t. dried thyme
Salt and pepper, to taste
1 lb. peeled and deveined shrimp
1 lb. andouille sausage, sliced
~1 lb. tasso ham, chopped (or other ham)
1 bunch scallions, sliced, for serving
Chopped parsley, to taste, for serving
Cooked white rice, for about 6 servings

Note: The spices can be substituted with creole seasoning if preferred.

Directions

Brown the sausage and ham in your Dutch oven. Then remove the meat but keep as much schmutz as possible.

Add the oil/butter/lard to the Dutch oven and melt or warm (I’m partial to a mix of bacon fat and butter). Slowly add the flour and whisk to form a roux.

Cook the mixture until it’s somewhere between golden brown to coffee brown, depending on desired thickness and flavor profile. (This link provides a good explainer on how to make a roux and the pros and cons of cooking shorter or longer.)

Add the bell pepper, onion, and celery, and cook for about 5 minutes until slightly softened, stirring often. Add the garlic and cook for another minute, continuing to stir.

Add the okra, herbs, spices, salt and pepper, and then slowly add the stock, stirring frequently. Add back in the sausage and ham. Bring to a boil, then cover, and simmer for about an hour.

Prepare the rice while the soup cooks. Just before serving, add the shrimp, and cook for about another 5 minutes. Meanwhile, slice the scallions and chop the parsley. Spoon rice into a bowl and then ladle on the soup. Top with scallions and parsley and enjoy!

December 7, 2019

Lose the canned soup, keep the potato chips

A week later and I’m still stuffed from a long Thanksgiving weekend with my family.

Mom made all of my must-haves, and added a wonderful appetizer spread a little before dinnertime. Throughout the weekend, Mom also offered leftover potato dumplings (a family favorite) and we ate take-out when we were tired of leftovers.

It’s enough that I’m not sure how I’ve continued to eat so much after getting home.

And yet, there’s blogs to write.

I was trying to find something simple and also different from traditional Thanksgiving fare for this week’s recipe, and also something different. Instead, as I was talking about my next recipe with Mom and Grandma, I came up with something that met the first two requirements but was one of my favorites. After talking about it, though, I had a hankering.

I first made this Epicurious tuna noodle casserole during my year of casseroles, and loved it so much I’ve been making it–even without writing about it–for years now. It tastes a lot like the classic casserole (with potato chips on top!!), but instead of canned cream-of-something soup, there’s a wonderful homemade leek sauce that makes it even better.

While I more or less followed my previous recipe, which altered the original slightly, it was interesting to see how it turned out in a Dutch oven versus a casserole dish.

The original recipe calls for mixing the sauce on top of noodles, and it calls for buttering a separate casserole dish after the mixture is prepared, but that sounded like a lot of dishes when the Dutch oven could do it all. (Full disclosure: In the interest of saving time, I did cook the noodles in a separate pot while I prepared the sauce, but they can be made in the same Dutch oven or prepared in it in advance.)

I wasn’t sure if not being able to butter a separate dish would make the casserole stick, so I upped the butter (even though I’m sure there’s more than enough fat). Some of the edges did end up sticking a bit but I liked the browning that the Dutch oven gave to the casserole. So, all in all, I’d say the Dutch oven works great, and tuna noodle casserole is even more amazing now that I know it tastes great and is adaptable.

Here’s what I did:

Ingredients

6 T. butter
2-3 leeks, sliced
1 t. celery seeds
¼ c. all-purpose flour
2 c. whole milk
½ c. half and half
1 t. lemon juice
12 oz. egg noodles
1 c. Gruyere cheese, grated
2 T. fresh dill, chopped (I used more, but adjust for your love of dill)
2 cans (5 to 6 oz.) tuna, drained, broken into chunks
2 c. potato chips, coarsely crushed (my sweetie and I prefer Ruffles)
Salt and pepper

Directions

Cook the egg noodles according to package instructions. This can be done in the Dutch oven, separately, or in advance. Once ready, drain the noodles BUT reserve about ¾ c. of the cooking liquid.

Heat the oven to 375 degrees.

Meanwhile, on the stove top, melt the butter in the Dutch oven, and then add the leeks and celery seeds, seasoning with salt if desired. Cover the Dutch oven and saute the leeks until tender, about 8 minutes, stirring often.

Gradually add the flour, and stir for 1 minute.

Gradually add the milk and half and half. Simmer until the mixture thickens, stirring often, for about 5 minutes. Stir in lemon juice and season the sauce with salt and pepper to taste. Remove from heat and set aside.

Once the noodles are ready, add them to the leek sauce in the Dutch oven, and stir to combine. Add in the cheese and dill, and stir to combine. Add the reserved noodle liquid by tablespoons until the mixture is creamy (you likely won’t use it all, but it’s better to have more than less; I added about ¼ c. in total but add to your desired creaminess).

Finally, fold in the tuna.

Cover the Dutch oven and bake for about 20 minutes until heated through. Remove from oven, remove lid, and add the crushed potato chips on top of the casserole. Bake uncovered another 10 to 15 minutes until the chips are golden brown and the filling is bubbling. Let cool slightly and enjoy!

March 9, 2019

Fun times on Fish Fry-day

Lent has begun. Like many lapsed Catholics, I still generally keep track of the beginning of the Lenten season and its many holy days even though I no longer follow those traditions.

Still, this felt like as good a time as any to have a fish fry for those who do go without meat on Fridays during Lent. And anyway, I love fish and chips.

I’ve generally avoided making it, though, as I’m bad at deep frying since I so rarely do it, and because I’ve not had good luck at finding a good batter. I’d like to tell you that my attempt this week went off without any hitches and I’ll now be doing Fish Fry-days every week, but dear readers, that was not the case.

The nadir was when I spilled hot oil on my shirt (but avoided burning myself badly!) and dropped a fish fillet on the floor. The peak was high, though. The beer batter was divine, my choice to use Alaskan pollock was a good one, and the fish fry was ultimately a delicious success.

Aside from being generally clumsy, I also, uh, tried to do too much, trying a baked fish recipe and a fried fish one on the same night, each with their own side. And doing all this mid-week after a couple of busy, hectic weeks.

But I’m not giving up.

After all, maybe it just was not my week to try new things (she writes as she just spent an hour and a half walking because she still doesn’t know her way around campus).

Here’s what I did, following a Serious Eats recipe:

Ingredients

1 c. all-purpose flour
1 c. cornstarch
1 (12 oz) can beer (ale or lager, I used Hamm’s because I’m classy)
1 large egg
1 t. salt
1 to 1 ½ lbs. skinless white fish fillets (like cod, haddock, or pollock)
Pepper, to taste
About 6 c. canola oil for frying
Malt vinegar, for serving (optional)

Directions

Whisk together the flour, cornstarch, beer, egg, and salt in in a medium bowl, and stir until there are no lumps. Cover bowl and refrigerate for at least 20 minutes and up to 3 hours.

Begin to heat the oil in a large Dutch oven to bring temperature to 375 degrees over medium heat.

Pat the fish dry with paper towels and season with pepper, and any additional salt as desired.

Once the batter is ready, drop each fillet into the batter bowl. Once temperature of oil reaches 375 degrees, pick up a fillet with a pair of tongs and carefully place in the hot oil (the recipe recommends holding it in the oil for a few seconds but with my coated Dutch oven, nothing stuck if I didn’t hold it), and repeat with as many fillets will fit without overcrowding.

Cook for about 5 minutes until golden, turning as necessary and adjusting heat as necessary, and then use tongs to remove to paper towels to drain. Repeat the process with remaining fillets as necessary until all are cooked.

Serve with malt vinegar and chips, as desired, and enjoy!

February 23, 2019

Get full ahead of Fat Tuesday

Lent is coming. If you practice that sort of thing.

I don’t, but at this time of year, this relapsed Catholic still can’t help but think of the many holidays and sacrifices (that I’m not making) ahead. But mostly, I think of the Mardi Gras celebrations to come in New Orleans.

Then, I think of the the cajun food that I can enjoy.

Most years, when it’s still cold and miserable in Iowa, I make a hearty gumbo. But I wanted to try something different this year. So, I asked Mom for her popular jambalaya recipe.

I can see why it’s so beloved amongst her friend group — it is literally full to the brim with meats and flavors. But like with the cassoulet I made earlier this year, I could not rationalize eating 6 pounds of meat, so I cut some back from her recipe (that seems to come from the USA Cookbook).

The ingredients I used were the same, but my amounts varied quite a bit, except in the rice to broth amounts so I could ensure I didn’t end up with jambalaya soup or dried rice.

It worked out perfectly, even though I made it on a weeknight. There was relatively little swearing, and I’m looking forward to the leftovers as it was still filled to the brim.

Hopefully, the Dutch oven will be empty before Fat Tuesday, which is March 5 this year. (Note: This is a joke. I would not keep food around that long.)

Brimful of jambalaya in the Dutch oven. Nom noms.

Here’s what I did:

Ingredients

½ c. vegetable oil
1 lb. andouille sausage, cut into ½ inch slices
1 lb. chicken breast, cut into ½ inch pieces
3 medium onions, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced (I used more)
2 ribs celery, chopped
2 bell peppers, chopped (I used one red and one green)
2 bay leaves
1 t. dried basil (I used more)
¼ t. cayenne (ha, I used way more, try 2 t.)
2 c. long grain rice
4 ½ c. chicken or vegetable broth, preferably homemade
1 (14 oz.) can tomato sauce
1 (6 oz.) can tomato paste
1 lb. shrimp, peeled and deveined
¾ c. chopped fresh parsley, preferably flat-leaf
Salt and pepper, to taste

Directions

Heat oil in a large Dutch oven over medium to medium-high heat. Add the sausage and cook until browned, about 10 minutes. Use slotted spoon to remove and transfer to a paper towel-lined plate or bowl. Add the chicken pieces, and cook until just cooked through, about 5 to 10 minutes. Use a slotted spoon to remove and transfer to the same plate or bowl as the sausage.

Add the onions to the to the Dutch oven, and cook until softened and translucent, about 5 to 10 minutes. Add in the garlic, celery, bell peppers, bay leaves, cayenne, and basil. Cook for another 5 minutes.

Add the (uncooked rice) and cook, stirring for about 5 minutes. Add the broth, tomato sauce, tomato paste, and add back in the meat. Bring the mixture to a boil, reduce heat to a simmer, and then cook covered for about 20 to 25 minutes, until most of the liquid has been absorbed.

Add in the shrimp, and parsley, and cook, covered, for another 5 or so minutes, until the shrimp is cooked through. Adjust the seasons, as necessary, and enjoy!

February 9, 2019

Sumptuous shrimp scampi to share with your sweetheart

I have a thing about Valentine’s Day, and well, really, most dates in general: I don’t like them. I don’t like to dress up; I don’t like the fancy-pants restaurants you’re *supposed* to go to for special occasions; and mostly, I don’t like the pressure to have a romantic evening.

If they’re your thing, more power to you; make the reservations, and have a good time.

I was lucky, then, to find a partner who feels the same way I do. A restaurant that requires us to feel like we don’t belong is not a restaurant we’re going to, no matter the rave reviews. Advance planning, likewise, isn’t really our thing.

Instead, I usually try to find something special but simple to make for dinner — and yet, I also don’t feel pressured to do so, if I feel lazy or if take-out beckons. In past years, I’ve celebrated the holiday with peanut stew. This year, I found something even simpler and yet also fancier: shrimp scampi.

Shrimp scampi ingredients. They didn’t all fit but they would have if I didn’t buy large quantities of wine and olive oil.

I’d never made it before, and honestly, hadn’t gotten it in restaurants because it’s usually too pricey to justify what it is. But after tasting it, I can see why it’s a go-to fancy dinner order. It’s damn delicious.

It’s also still too easy to make at home to justify the upcharge for having it made for me. There’s few ingredients, and it’s even a one-pot meal. In all, it’s about a half-hour of work. It’s the perfect stay-at-home dinner date whether you have a special Valentine or not.

Here’s what I did:

Ingredients

1 lb. angel hair pasta or similar (I used spaghetti because I wanted whole wheat and I couldn’t find it in angel hair)
1 ½ lb. peeled and deveined uncooked shrimp
Salt and pepper, to taste
2 T. olive oil
½ c. dry white wine (and, let’s be honest, more to serve in a glass on the side)
6 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
¼ t. red pepper flakes (I used more but we like a little more kick to our food)
3 T. unsalted butter, cold and cut into smallish cubes
¼ c. coarsely chopped parsley, flat-leaf preferred
Juice from ½ lemon

Directions

Bring water to a boil in a large Dutch oven. Add the pasta, cooking to al dente according to package instructions (between 7 and 12 minutes, depending on pasta type). Reserve ½ c. of cooking water, and then drain the pasta and set aside.

Meanwhile, pat the shrimp dry and season both sides with salt and pepper, to taste. In the same large Dutch oven where you cooked your pasta, heat the oil over medium-high heat. Add the shrimp and cook for about 1 minute. Flip, and then add the wine, garlic, and red pepper flakes. Cook until the shrimp are just opaque and the wine has reduced by half, about 2 to 3 more minutes.

Remove the Dutch oven from heat, add the butter cubes, and stir until melted. Add the pasta, parsley, and lemon juice. Toss until combined, adding reserved pasta water by the tablespoon, until a sauce forms that coats the pasta. (Don’t worry if you don’t use all the water.) Serve immediately, and enjoy!

September 8, 2018

Saving the planet one shrimpie at a time

I’ve had a love affair with the deep blue sea since childhood. I blame Matt Hooper. I spent nearly a decade growing up wanting to be him, sometimes I still wish I had.

So, I was especially sensitive to a documentary I saw some years ago, The End of the Line, about the worrisome trend of endangered fish populations and what it could mean to our planet. I’m sorry to say that until I saw that documentary, I assumed that the vastness of the ocean meant a nearly endless supply of seafood. I should’ve read my history books.

The film, however, had the desired effect, as I have started paying attention to Seafood Watch ever since and trying to buy the best, most ethically sourced seafood I can. The stores in Ames were iffy at best, so I checked again and learned that Whole Foods is partnering with Seafood Watch so their fish options rank between best choice and good alternative. (Not a paid ad, but seriously, yay!)

That’s a long way of saying that it took a little more time to find a key ingredient in this week’s recipe, the beloved shrimp boil. Only, you know, in a sheet pan.

It was worth the wait.

The sheet pan shrimp boil is exactly as it sounds — take all the ingredients in your typical shrimp boil, spread it out on a sheet pan, pour on Old Bay and butter, bake, and you’ve got an amazing, and quick dinner. The longest part was parboiling the potatoes to ensure they’re cooked along with everything else.

We have one more pound of EZ Peel (no deveining required!), USA made, and ethical shrimpies, and I’ll be honest, I’m considering making this one again.

So much good stuff all on one sheet pan.

Here’s what I did, mostly following the Damn Delicious recipe, except I wanted the fun of peeling the shrimp:

Ingredients

1 lb. medium shrimp (uncooked, EZ peel or peeled)
1 (about 12 oz.) package smoked andouille sausage, sliced (I get ethical meat too, I recommend D’artagnan sausage, which is sold in some Hy-Vees)
1 lb. small yellow potatoes, quartered
3 ears corn, cut crosswise into six pieces each
¼ c. (½ stick) unsalted butter, melted
4-6 cloves garlic, minced
1-2 T. Old Bay seasoning
1 lemon, cut into wedges, for serving (optional)
Chopped parsley leaves, for serving (optional)
Olive oil, for coating

Directions

Heat oven to 400 degrees. Lightly oil a large rimmed sheet pan (I use the spray kind.)

Bring a large pot of water to a boil, and cook the potatoes until parboiled, about 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, add the sausage, shrimp, and corn onto the greased sheet pan. When the potatoes are ready, drain them and carefully spread on top, trying to keep all items on a single layer.

Stir the garlic and Old Bay into the melted butter, and then pour on top of the shrimp mixture.

Bake the mixture for 12 to 15 minutes, until the shrimp are opaque and the corn is tender. Top each serving with parsley and squeeze on a wedge of lemon, and enjoy!