garlic and lemon maine shrimp

i have always been a horrible sleeper.

always. i have very vivid memories

of me, as an 8-year-old, getting

out of bed in the middle of the night,

wide-awake and looking for my father

who i knew would be downstairs,

also awake, playing computer

games. that's how i became so good

at tetris, so young.

i also have very vivid memories of me,

a freshman at college, not sleeping

at all - but not in the good way.

i would stay in my dorm room,

with my roommate sleeping one bed away

and wish that i could just sleep

like everyone else seemed to be able to do.

my problem has always been falling asleep.

once i did, though, i was out.

lately - even though, don't get me wrong,

many nights, i'm still awake way past when i

want to be - my biggest sleep problem is

actually staying asleep.

i wake up very early in the morning.

and that's it. i'm up.

or at the very least, i'm in that very

blurry awake-asleep stage where i'm

dreaming/thinking.

and it's all about work.

who needs that?

not me - and that's why at 4:19

this morning, as i was using sheer will

to coax myself back to sleep, but

instead kept remembering

three deadlines that i face today

when i get into work,

i decided to put this time to good

use and tell you about maine shrimp,

because i'm running out of time

on those, too.

maine shrimp, you see, are very

time-limited and it would be a shame

if i didn't write about them before

they are out of the markets and

you have to wait until next year.

so i have to tell you and get

rid of this guilt that it's taken me

so long - and maybe,

just maybe, it will help me sleep.

i can dream, right?

so anyway, the maine shrimp.

i have to admit that i'm a bit

of a shrimp snob. i like the big

ones, or at the very least, the almost

big ones. i'm not crazy about small

shrimp that curl up into bites of nothing

once they are cooked.

and so, even though i've spotted

very pink, small maine shrimp

in the market many times

over the past couple years, i've always

looked the other way. fool.

but, a couple weeks ago,

in the middle of grocery store,

i was offered one maine shrimp, raw.

i hesitated for a moment -

i love raw oysters, clams, fish

and now scallops, but to me, shrimp

always seemed like a seafood

better served cooked.

then the fishmonger told me that

these are the same shrimp that

are sold in sushi bars for $3,

two at a pop, over sushi rice.

he ate one, himself,

and i felt ridiculous and boring,

so i went for it.

the shrimp was amazing -

like nothing i ever had before:

sweet and buttery and what could

likely be a total addiction.

and they were $4.99 a pound.

that night, i brought six home

(they cost a little less than 50 cents)

and practically skipped in the house,

excited to reveal my find.

i peeled two, handed one to larry

and ate one myself.

yes, just as i remembered.

larry? not so into it.

he just could not get behind

the raw shrimp.

i was a little bummed.

but over the next week,

i started to research maine shrimp

and learned that they are only

available for a limited time each winter,

that in the northeast

(way in the northeast, we're talking

maine, massachusetts, rhode island -

not new york and new jersey),

people anxiously wait for them to

appear and that if cooked properly,

they are just as lovely.

and then, as i planned to pick up

a pound one night and i found a recipe,

a little bell went off in the back

of my head and i remembered why

maine shrimp carried an extra layer

of familiarity with them:

jen from last night's dinner had

referenced them (or, more specifically,

their stock) here, when she had cooked

my squid stew a couple months back.

(oh, and coincidentally, she made another

maine shrimp recipe this week.)

so then i knew this would be a very wise

$5 dollars spent:

dinner tonight,

stock for the future.

when shrimp are so tiny,

a lot make up a pound and i was glad

when larry started peeling with me

(and i swear, i ate only one or two

in the process).

but once they were prepped, this

recipe from the washington post

came together very quickly.

in fact, the bulk of time was spent

waiting for the accompanying couscous

to cook.

you zest a lemon,

chop a bunch of garlic,

crumble a dried chile.

the zest

and some of the garlic

are tossed with the raw shrimp

and then the remaining garlic

and the dried chile cook for

a few minutes in a bit of oil,

until they're sizzling.

that's when you add the shrimp,

immediately turn off the heat and toss.

and that's it.

and, cooked maine shrimp

are just as special as the raw.

they're lighter, but still sweet

and still buttery in texture.

larry, whose complaints vanished

once they were cooked,

said that they tasted like something

he couldn't quite identify,

similar enough to shrimp to be familiar,

but just different enough to stand out.

before the season runs out,

i hope to buy make stock

from the shells in the freezer,

buy another pound

and make maine shrimp risotto,

using both.

but for now,

i'm just glad the secret's out

(although it just occurred to me that

maybe i'm the only one who didn't

know about them before now):

maine shrimp are a lovely

limited-time treat.

if you see them, you should

get some and maybe even

cook them.

now that that's out -

one thing to cross

off my list -

maybe, i can go back

to sleep. i still have

an hour and a half before

i need to wake up.

garlic and lemon maine shrimp

adapted from the washington post

i would make this again, but i would double or triple the garlic and lemon, and instead of the dried chile, i would add a pinch or two of ground cayenne. i assume that the seasonings were kept on the light side so that the shrimp could really shine, but i like a lot more oomph in my food. oh, and on that note, the recipe doesn't say this, but i would absolutely finish the dish with a very big squeeze of lemon.

and, although i'm writing their version, below, i did make one change, which is reflected. instead of turning off the heat and then adding the shrimp, i added the shrimp and then turned off the heat. i know my stove and i knew that it would work better this way. oh, and the original recipe was for four, but i scaled it down to two (which is how i've written it).

i served the shrimp over lemony couscous, but they would also be great on their own, over a salad, on top of pasta or maybe, even with meat.

1 pound uncooked maine shrimp, peeled (they do not have to be deveined - and if you see any grey roe, just brush it away)

1 tablespoon finely chopped garlic, plus 1 medium clove, chopped

1 tablespoon freshly grated lemon zest

1-2 tablespoons canola oil

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1 dried chile pepper, crumbed (remove seeds and membrane for less heat) or a few pinches of ground cayenne

in bowl, combine shrimp, finely chopped garlic and lemon zest.

in large skillet, add oil to pan and heat over medium. as soon as the oil starts to make popping sounds, add the chopped garlic, salt to taste and the crumbled chili pepper. cook 2-3 minutes, or until the garlic sizzles and turns golden brown, stirring constantly.

add the shrimp; immediately turn off the heat. toss 1 minute, or until the shrimp are gently cooked. (if they seem like they need a little more cooking, turn the heat back on to medium and cook until heated through, stirring constantly.)

squeeze lemon over shrimp; toss to combine.

and then i made

it's kind of weird to admit this,

but fava beans were

non-existent in my life,

until this year.

i don't know why or how

that happened,

but this spring,

they were everywhere -

as i'm sure they've probably

been every spring -

and somehow, i spotted

this recipe, and so began

my extreme approval

and interest in fava beans.

somewhat similar to edamame,

but larger, softer and

boasting a much

greener flavor,

these beans are easily adaptable to

tons of recipes and flavor

profiles.

but, unlike other things,

i like these simple

so that you can really enjoy

the fruits of your labor.

(i might as well tell you,

fresh fava beans are

not for fast meals.

if you, like me,

have never peered inside

a fava bean before,

it may feel like a

mysterious process: once

you shuck the outer pod from

each shell, you then must also

remove the second skin that

clings to each bean.

it's called,

double peeling.)

so - simple.

after finding ridiculously huge

fava beans at the market,

i knew that i would have enough

to support and star in

a dish for two.

lo and behold,

once shelled, we had

the perfect amount.

this recipe,

by bobby flay,

recommends blanching the

beans once removed from their

pods, making it easier to remove

the second skin.

he, of course, was right.

with this method, they just pop

right out.

i prepared them ahead of time

and then waited until about 10

minutes before dinner to toss

them with the fast vinaigrette.

lemon

and garlic

make for a very fresh salad,

shaving manchego on top

makes the otherwise

simple dish, memorable.

just make sure you pick

up a manchego worthy

of the fava beans - i'm not

sure that i did, this time around.

i know that i'm pushing it -

finding fava beans at the store

right now would be a

(somewhat scary) miracle -

but if you do come across

the pods, count your blessings,

grab a large bunch

and make this salad.

lemon and garlic fava beans with manchego

adapted from bobby flay

i halved the recipe, which is how i wrote it here, but it is obviously, very easy to double. i liked the lemony side, so i only used one tablespoon of olive oil (instead of two). as usual, i left off the tablespoon of chopped flatleaf parsley, but it would absolutely add a nice green.

2 pounds fava beans (about 2 cups shucked beans)

1 lemon, juiced (about 2 tablespoons)

2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

kosher salt

cracked black pepper

1 tablespoon olive oil

2 ounces manchego cheese, thinly shaved

shuck beans. fill large bowl with ice water; set aside. in large saucepot bring water to a boil; salt well. add beans and cook 3 minutes, or until tender. immediately plunge beans into ice water to cool. drain water; remove beans from outer skin.

in medium bowl, combine lemon juice, garlic and add salt and pepper, to taste. drizzle in olive oil, whisking constantly. add beans; gently toss to coat. top with manchego cheese.

homemade pride

there are several things

that i have made,

simply because i'm

surprised

and

amazed

to find out that i can.

that's how the whole deal

with marshmallows began,

why i first made graham crackers,

and how i ran to the store late

one saturday night to get yeast,

determined to make english muffins

for sunday morning's breakfast.

and that was initially most of

my thought process with

ricotta cheese.

i can't even remember how long

ago it was that i learned

ricotta cheese could easily

be made at home.

and even though i printed out

a recipe and debated what i should

use it for,

i still held onto that piece of paper

for way too long.

last week i decided - no doubt

fueled by the success of

slow-roasted tomatoes -

that that was it,

no more excuses:

i was making ricotta.

--

larry reacted true to form.

first giving me that look,

letting me know that he thinks

i'm crazy.

next, he asked, very simply, why?

and after that didn't work,

he gave it a last ditch attempt,

reminding me that i could

buy it for a lot less work.

later, he asked what i was going to

do with it. when i said i didn't

yet know, but that wasn't the point,

he shrugged his shoulders and

dropped the subject,

no doubt clear in his defeat.

--

but because i'm never content

to just make it easy,

i searched for a different

recipe, wanting to guarantee

that i went with the right method.

i found this one,

then debated all afternoon.

it wasn't until i was in the store,

staring at all the milks

that i decided to stick to my guns

and go with my first recipe.

i owed it that much after

years waiting its turn

in the binder.

i made one change,

breaking a major rule of mine:

never ever change a recipe the

first time you make it.

make it the way it was intended first,

then feel free to play, tinker and add.

it's not that i don't adjust

here and there,

but when a recipe is fundamentally based

on very few ingredients,

it seems more than wrong

to mess with any

of them.

i never buy full-fat ricotta,

so, it seemed kind of weird for me

to make the cheese all fat at home.

i took a big leap, and bought

1% milk, knowing that if i didn't

have cheese at the end of the

experiment, i'd have no one

to blame but myself.

i also switched the heavy cream

for light cream, worried that i needed

extra fat that whole milk

just would not be able to provide.

in spite of these changes,

when i mixed together the

milk,

cream,

and salt,

in a pot, and brought them

to a boil, they boiled anyway

(not that there was really

any doubt about that part).

and after, i

added the lemon juice

called for,

plus just a smidge more,

i crossed my fingers

that the mixture would

in fact curdle.

at first, i thought the curds

were tiny, and that there

weren't enough.

i was sure that the whole

thing concoction would slip

through the cheesecloth

and all wind up in the bottom

of the bowl,

still liquid.

but a minute later, i experimented,

lifting up the spoon i was using to stir

and was pleasantly surprised to

see that it contained a good amount of cheese.

it was now or never.

i poured the mixture into

the cheesecloth-lined strainer,

eyes half closed and was very

happy to realize that there was quite

a lot of cheese in the bowl.

i tasted i small bit -

very hot

still wet -

but unmistakingly, ricotta.

even though this recipe had said to strain

the cheese for one hour,

the other one called for only 15 minutes.

i took a chance around 20

(after a quick straining test to make sure

it wasn't still dripping wet)

and spread it onto the

whole grain pizza dough i had just grilled.

then, i topped it with the

heirloom bruschetta i had stirred together

while the cheese was draining.

and i was so glad for that.

you see - i like ricotta.

i can appreciate the creamy texture

and the smoothness it lends

to a dish. i can get behind the

hard to beat clean cheese flavor.

but, i can't help to find ricotta

a little bit bland.

i rarely use it without

spicing the whole mixture

up with

garlic

lemon

salt

pepper

and more.

this time, i wanted to enjoy

it for the simple ingredient

it was. i added nothing to it,

but on top, was a different story.

the balsamic, basil and red onion-spiked

bruschetta over the crispy smoky crust,

encouraged the cheese to taste like

the most complex of

ingredients.

the next night,

i scooped a spoonful of the

significantly dryer ricotta

into a bowl,

sprinkled it with ground cinnamon,

drizzled everything with honey

and tossed a handful of blueberries

on top.

it was a lovely treat -

creamy and indulgent,

gently spiced and

not too sweet.

but thanks to the summer fruit,

extremely fresh.

oddly,

i've waited years to

make ricotta, never actually

discussing it with anyone,

but just days after this batch

was made, my friend colleen

wrote about her experience

making ricotta that very

weekend. it's not such a

surprise - in the past

we've made garlic scapes

at the same time and

this past weekend for my

birthday, she whipped up a

batch of peach cupcakes that i

had my eye on to bake.

but to me, the best part was

that she had made the other

recipe, so i now have proof

that both work.

obviously, if you're in a hurry,

i cannot dispute that it's easier

to buy a container

from the store.

but if you have even

the tiniest

bit of time,

it's worth it to make

ricotta at home.

the only reason

this actually takes

a few extra minutes

is because you have to

wait for the mixture to come

to a boil.

after that, it's fast,

smooth sailing -

the equivilant of making pasta.

seriously.

don't wait as long as i did.

homemade ricotta cheese

adapted from gourmet magazine

the original recipe called for whole milk and heavy cream, which i'm sure would have been delicious. i made this with 1% milk and light cream. on the first night, it was lovely. the second night it was still good, but much dryer. the original recipe called to let the mixture drain for 1 hour. i was very happy with the texture after 20 minutes of draining - so i used it then. if you prefer a less wet ricotta, let it strain longer.

1/2 gallon 1% milk

1 cup light cream

1/2 teaspoon salt

3 generous tablespoons fresh lemon juice

line a large sieve with cheesecloth (i gave it four layers); place over a large bowl and set aside.

in large heavy saucepot over medium heat, bring milk, cream and salt to a rolling boil, stirring occasionally to prevent scorching.

add lemon juice; reduce heat to low and cook 2 minutes, or until the mixture curdles, stirring constantly. gently pour mixture into sieve. let drain 20 minutes to 1 hour.

cover and chill in fridge. keeps for up to two days.