Summer of Shrimp

   In the order of foods that are simple to cook, there are vegetables, pasta, and shrimp. If you want to test your culinary skills, especially in regards to flavor combinations, pasta and shrimp are definitely bland enough to stand as that structural base at the center of the meal, or to serve as a finer element in a larger setting; and while certain vegetables can be used likely, many find themselves imparting the flavor and/or vibrancy to a dish.
   I talked about this before, but I'll repeat it here because this is the model post for all things shrimp. When purchasing raw shrimp, there are several avenues to choose from: farmed/wild, whole, peeled, cleaned—not to mention all of the sizes available. But, by far, the most talked about decision only makes sense in theory.

Fresh or Frozen?

   Fresh seafood doesn't get fresher than catching it yourself, especially when considering commercially available items. That is why, particularly seen in the case of shrimp, "frozen at sea" is common practice. So common, that the supermarket display will either label shrimp as "never frozen" or they won't tell you because they're ashamed to say it was frozen but is now thawed. If you're purchasing the thawed variety, it makes little sense to put them back in the freezer when you get home. But personally, if the choice is between "never frozen" and specifically "flash-frozen," I choose the latter, because it is actually the fresher.
   The science of flash freezing was discovered, researched, and reinvented time and time again by a man named Clarence Birdseye II. The company which bears his name—Birds Eye—has been on the market for nearly a century utilizing his patented techniques which he initially applied to the seafood industry and later moved onto other meats and produce. What Birdseye realized was that fish frozen, not only immediately after being caught, but more importantly in a quick fashion tasted fresher than conventionally (at that time) frozen fish.
   Thirty years after its conception, the term "cryogenics" would refer to the process of applying temperatures well below 0 degrees Centigrade. I bring that up in case it helps in understanding just how fresh we're talking. It's not how soon something is frozen; it's how fast. And if you cringe to consider comparing a fresh cut of meat or fish with its frozen counterpart, it's because you're all too familiar with those conventional freezing methods, and the texture of such foods once they are thawed. 
   When food freezes, ice crystals form around 0 degrees C and continue to grow at a rate relative to that of heat removal. Various foods freeze at different temperatures due to salt content, fat content, etc. The longer it takes to totally freeze something, the more time ice crystals have for growth, and larger crystals cause more damage to a food's integrity. Thawed foods that were frozen at a slow rate are noticeably mushy, bleached of flavor, etc., for this reason. For a bit of perspective, the concluding paragraphs of this article explain that shrimp in an industrial plate freezer at -35 degrees C takes 50 minutes to become optimally frozen, while shrimp treated with liquid nitrogen at -80 degrees C takes only 5 minutes to reach the same end. And that's just for shrimp; a 90 % drop in time is about par for other seafood tested.
   Flash freezing stops the clock on decay quicker than air-blast, belt freezers, and plate freezers, and that without ruining the texture of the product. Fresh foods keep the clock ticking until it's time to cook. And while fresh produce may be better than frozen, flash-frozen seafood is definitely above the rest.

Bubba was Right

   "Shrimp is the fruit of the sea." Bubba listed 21 ways to prepare shrimp, and while I'm sure there're more, I haven't scratched the surface with my trials. Shrimp are delicate in flavor and texture. They're modest enough to receive only a spritz of lemon, or to be dipped in a mix of ketchup and horseradish. But they can stand up to much hardier seasonings, and that is a truth which continually sparks new ideas whenever I consider cooking shrimp for a meal.

November 14, 2014 - Shrimp, Scallops and Pan-fried Linguine

   This marked the first time I cooked shrimp. I don't know if you can tell, but their shells are still on. Yes, I prefer shell-on shrimp, but don't worry: they're deveined. However, leaving the shells on for a sauté is probably the biggest faux pas in cooking shrimp. It's like seasoning a burger on a grill without removing the wax paper. I cried manly tears as I peeled the delicious chitinous wrappings from their overcooked muscles.
   For that first try, I kept it simple with salt, pepper, garlic powder, fresh onions and [old] bay leaves. The pan probably started with oil and ended with white cooking wine, and after all that effort, the frozen spinach ended up the best part of the meal. But, you win some, you lose some. I can tell you this: I never forgot to peel them again.
   In addition to their downright versatility, shrimp are very easy to overcook, which in my book means they're easy to cook, period. As you'll see following, raw shrimp have a much different color from cooked shrimp (those above are near done). Raw shrimp are also translucent, like many fish, and they turn opaque when fully cooked. These visual cues are very important when judging how long to cook shrimp. Overcooked shrimp will not only be noticeably tough and/or chewy, but you'll also be able to tell just by looking at them.

Pot Ramen

   This is it: the meal I've been alluding to since October. You remember. I broke into my frozen reserves to make broth for the first time, and was so dedicated to my work that I strained it using paper towels. Well, they'll make another cameo here, soaking up the water from thawed, peeled shrimp as their shells moved on to give flavor to my gumbo base.

January 10, 2015 - Shrimp Ramen

   I can't say where my fascination with adding hard-boiled eggs to ramen began. Ponyo probably served as some inspiration for it, when they animated some of the traditional ramen toppings—those being soft-boiled eggs, however, did not deter me. For this recipe, these were prepped the day before as part of my trials in egg-peeling techniques.

January 10, 2015 - Shrimp Ramen

   Jes likes pictures like these. While I can't affirm that the seasonings did anything for the final product—the shrimp ultimately finding its way into soup—points must be given for trying, right? That said, the broth was the real star that day (recipe found here). Having all the flavor of vegetables and spices, the only thing required was to add salt while reheating.

January 10, 2015 - Shrimp Ramen

   Unfortunately for the broth, ramen got more screen time. These pre-cooked, instant noodles are the only ones I know, so you'll have to forgive me if I've done a disservice to traditional ramen-eaters out there. It's no different from any other pasta I cook with, presently, but I do admit: while boiling them in the broth may have been a wise choice, storing the leftovers in it was not. It's not the first time I lost all of my liquid in a soup, but I hope it was the last.

January 10, 2015 - Shrimp Ramen

   Any instant-noodle soup I've ever had always included scallions. But, since I'd used leek greens in making the broth, I thought this was a prime way to use up the "leek whites" that were left over. The leek base is much more tender than scallions, and milder in flavor.

January 10, 2015 - Shrimp Ramen

   Time was my nemesis here, as always. Looking at this, the two components of the meal's title are definitely overcooked. Don't get me wrong; it tasted good. But tough shrimp and soggy noodles could have been better approached. As I told myself when I first made this, if it gets a remake, I'll cook the ramen separately and add everything to the broth when it's time to eat.

Other Recipes in this Series:
Shrimp Stock
Shrimp Gumbo
Deconstructed Shrimp Alfredo

Delicate Flavors

   May has become my Sabbath rest this year, within the reasoning that it would be a huge disservice if I actually took so many consecutive days off from my employment. Instead, there was still plenty of room for spiritual renewal, and what better month for it than the one which marks Jes's and my anniversary?
   Excuses aside, we haven't been cooking much lately for different reasons, and probably won't be for at least the next month, but when we do, you can be certain we'll be loving it in our new kitchen.

BUTTER!?

   Our first road trip together brought us over the entirety of I-80, from the Golden-Gate to the George-Washington. Somewhere along the way, one of us reached into a bag in the back seat and pulled out, of all things, a tiny packet of butter. Many laughs ensued. If you happen to be in our presence when we exclaim this singular word out of context, you'll at least know what's going through our collective mind.
   Jes is not a saucy person. She also doesn't like too much sauce with her pasta—something I discovered, and something she suffered, when we visited my great aunt in Southern California. My maternal family has been hugely influential in my love for Italian cuisine, whether cooking it in batches and sharing the wealth or going to some ristorante for most every celebration. Leave it to the Syrian-Americans, however, to be carrying on that tradition.
   Anyway, I presume Jes's dislike for such heavily laden, tomato-sauce-smothered pasta is related to her delight in simply buttered pasta. My mother used to do this on occasion, as well; and, to take it further, a misunderstanding during one of my childhood sleepovers once led me to eat dry spaghetti for dinner, to my own chagrin. However, in addition to its simplicity, it gains a 1-Up in my book for preparation time: 10 minutes.
   Now, buttered spaghetti is fine enough, but Jes dresses hers up with salt, pepper and garlic powder. It holds quite the appeal on its own, but I leave it to her to craft it. Besides, things always taste better when it belongs to someone else.

Purposed Segregation

   Using that dish as a base, I made a meal last year which was pleasing in many ways. If you recall what I'd said regarding my veggie-parfait, I had cooked each ingredient individually only to rejoin them for the final product. The following recipe predates that one, and it lived up to the hope of keeping the elements separated all the way to the plate.
   The concept behind it all was to have the flavors of shrimp alfredo without actually melding them together into a coherent sauce layered over dense linguini. I've never made a cream sauce from scratch—though I aspire to undertake the task one day—but this meal kept things as simple as possible.

June 22, 2015 - Shrimp Alfredo, Deconstructed

   I'm a believer in pairing a noodle's width with the weight of its sauce. That said, a traditional alfredo sauce matches well with fettucine or linguine, but you'll find no actual sauce here, so I went with Jes's personal favorite: angel hair. A specification of capellini, angel hair is among the thinnest Italian noodles (I've seen much thinner Asian noodles). It's perfect for runny, brothy sauces, and here, its only dressing is butter, grated parmesan, and ground pepper.
   Beside that, thinly sliced tomatoes gained some color and texture with a momentary searing in a pan. Charred onions are also a nice flavor add-on (and they happen to remind me of mom's good, old-fashioned London broil, or giddo's kebabs).

   Last but not least, hiding in the shadows would be sriracha-crusted shrimp. If you're either confused or intrigued, it was a revisited recipe which you will soon see here: a simple twist on breading shrimp that utilized flavored potato chips. All of my creations with shrimp deserve their own series, but to remain in the recipe at hand, it is enough just to have garlic-butter shrimp, whether such is infused or contains visibly chopped pieces of garlic. Perhaps the flavor would lend itself well to the added texture of a béchamel sauce, thereby setting up a more distinct division of the four elements already present.
   In case you couldn't tell, I'm giving myself brilliant ideas worth exploring. I would definitely like to recreate this.

Oven Lovin'

   Lasagna is a casserole. What I mean by that is, everything goes into one dish and bakes. The reason I have little interest in remaking the vegetable lasagna is not because I thought it was horrible, but because I rarely bake; I'll roast, I'll toast, I'll broil, but I much prefer the stovetop to the stove.
   Jes fills that void in our culinary repertoire. The first meal she made for me was tatertot casserole (recipe to follow), the second follows here, and yet another casserole debuted at the first Christmas party we shared. Now, not everything she makes is lumped into that dish, but she does have a trust for the oven which I do not; so, if I'm using the oven, it's because she is nearby.
   I'm very hands-on with my cooking style. I will watch a pot of water boil. I like to poke and stir and remove things from the heat. When you're baking, however, you can't do that. If that door opens, you're likely doing more harm than simply extending the time it takes to fully cook your meal. You could upset the delicate balance at the molecular level! Worlds could be destroyed because you thought you knew better! I think my biggest quandary with the oven is that the lightbulb inside really deals no justice toward the doneness of your food.
   The other extreme to coddling your creations is not paying enough attention. This could have horrific consequences particularly when you're baking, but I actually bring it up as a means of bringing us back to pasta. Jes and I have a friend who has admitted to burning spaghetti, because while boiling it, she returned to find that no more water was left in the pot. That is hilariously perplexing to many of us, but it just goes to show: we all make mistakes.

Stovetop Science

   Baking is its own science, but boiling has its moments as well, and there is some bad science out there needing to be addressed. This article immerses itself in the facts behind boiling the perfect pasta, debunking the myths many of us have heard by testing them to their true conclusion as real science is supposed to do. From the size of the pot to the amount of water and even the amount of heat, the author settles out the only things that really matter.
   What I gleaned from this read was how to keep pasta from sticking, which you may remember was a problem that I couldn't figure out. Gluten is the protein that helps the dough of pasta hold together; starch is the carbohydrate that makes cooked pieces of pasta stick to each other. Gluten softens pasta as it boils; starch releases from each piece of pasta and coats the surfaces, clinging to itself. If the pasta is agitated (stirred) when this initially happens (within the first couple minutes of boiling), the starchy residue disappears into the water for good, keeping each noodle separate.
   If that wasn't revolutionary enough, the best part was learning not to discard the water—or, at least not all of it. It's a happy ending for the starch after all.

Western Spaghetti

   With the second installment in our pasta series, we go out of the realm of "oven-ready" pasta and actually pre-cook it ourselves. Whether you're following tradition or the above-author's suggestions, I'll leave the process open-ended. Jes and I don't really follow the box (obviously, because I never used to stir), but it is helpful to know how long a particular shape of pasta requires. Most boxes tell us how long to cook for al dente—"to the tooth," or "with bite." If al dente is perfection, we like to overcook our pasta; so we go that extra minute or so. Or, if Jes is cooking, we test a piece until we think it's done.
   From the moment your water starts taking heat to the draining of your cooked pasta, there is enough time to fabricate a sauce. For this particular recipe, Jes uses a homemade-ish meat sauce. I say -ish because I'm used to giddo making it from scratch, while this recipe calls for some brand-name flavors. I'm not attacking the method; I'm simply noting the difference.
   This may seem the perfect set-up for a plate of spaghetti and meatballs, but there is one more layer of flavor to add that you should have guessed by now: Here lies the recipe for:

November 5, 2011 - Baked Spaghetti

   Baked spaghetti is simple, delicious, and simply delicious. But, on the off-chance that our kitchen does not have spaghetti stocked in it, it's nice to know that this recipe is open to interpretation. I mean, pasta is pasta is pasta; you could potentially use any shape available. Though, macaroni might not be the best choice, and lasagna has its own place.
   The most recent preparation of this dish utilized the fun shape of wheels—the baked-on residue of which made beautiful graffiti art to be admired afterward. But of course, since the sauce takes the longest to craft, it's best to address that early on, so that whatever pasta you choose to cook isn't sitting around waiting for it to be made.

April 19, 2016 - Baked Wheels

1 lb. ground beef
2 24-oz. jars spaghetti sauce [Roasted Garlic and Tomato & Basil]
1 1.37-oz. package McCormick Thick and Zesty Spaghetti Sauce Mix

Start out browning the beef in a large pot. Drain (and rinse if needed).
Add the Thick and Zesty to the beef and about ¼-jar of spaghetti sauce and stir until the meat is coated. Then add the rest of the sauce and mix well. Let it simmer about 15 minutes, stirring often on medium-low heat.

April 19, 2016 - Baked Wheels

1 lb. pasta

Meanwhile, boil water and cook pasta.
Drain pasta, then add it to a large baking dish and gently fold in sauce. Mix until the pasta is coated.
Put it in the oven at 350 deg. for 20-25 minutes.
Add shredded cheddar over the top and bake for 5 more minutes.

   Voilà! C'est bon!
   Personally, I wouldn't think to put cheddar on top, but it actually works. Not to mention, it's lactose-free—as long as it's not processed. That's a different story. Nevermind. Forget I said anything.
   Depending on your sauce preferences, you might possibly end up with unused meat sauce. No matter! Bulk cooking is nothing to be ashamed of, and is actually something I promote. Growing up, my family would create huge batches of sauces or dips and freeze them for another day's meal. As long as you label the date, who knows how far into the future you could provide for? We only recently broke into giddo's last braid of Syrian cheese.

Speaking of Cheese...

   We're not through with this post yet. If you were surprised to see that recipe formatting show up again, we're really gonna bake your noodle tonight.... Oh, that was almost too perfect.
   No plate of pasta is complete without a crispy, crusty piece of garlic bread. And with Jes, you can almost be certain it'll have cheddar cheese added in. Not that I'm complaining; when we thought she was lactose-intolerant, I almost cried to consider giving up such a world of flavor.
   Anyway, I've never made garlic bread, or even paid attention while my mom did, but this is definitely not your Italian grandmother's recipe.

April 19, 2016 - Cheesy Garlic Bread

½ stick butter
1 tablespoon fresh chopped garlic
1 tablespoon mayonnaise
generous pinch shredded cheddar

Set out butter on the counter with garlic, stirring every 5-10 minutes until room temperature and smooth, about 45 minutes.
Add mayonnaise, shredded cheddar and optional sliced green onion. Mix well.

April 19, 2016 - Cheesy Garlic Bread

½ loaf French bread

Cut bread in half lengthwise, then spread mixture evenly over each and place on foil-covered pan.
Put it on top-rack in the oven at 350 deg. for about 5-8 minutes, or until the cheese is melted and golden brown.
Let it cool for a couple minutes. Then cut and eat!

November 5, 2011 - Cheesy Garlic Bread

   Notably, the first time Jes prepared this for me was the best. It was much deeper than golden brown, dried to perfection, and it had the ideal balance of all of its flavors. It may be as simple as gas vs. electric, but that discovery awaits another day.