Barbecue shrimp

I am not even kidding, y'all. The hankering I had earlier today for Louisiana barbecue shrimp was off the charts. Luckily I was in the market when this desire struck, so I hurriedly picked up a pound of fresh shrimp and a crusty baguette for sauce-sopping. 

You should always sop good sauce. Do you do that? 

Perhaps you're aware that barbecue shrimp has approximately zero to do with barbecue sauce as you know it. It is, instead, a shrimp-shell stock infused with onion, garlic, bay leaves, Worcestershire, a bit of wine, pepper, salt, and Creole seasoning, reduced to a sauce and mixed with cream and a pat of butter for good measure.

straining the reduced stock

At some point along the way, you quickly cook the shrimp in that ambrosial mess and then serve both in a bowl with a generous hunk of oven-toasted bread.

Note: we did not have enough Worcestershire, so the color of the sauce isn't as richly tinted as usual, but we added some anchovy paste (because umami and also Worcestershire has a fair amount of anchovy in it), and while the depth of flavor wasn't quite as intense as I like, this was still pretty darn good.

shrimp cooking in the hot sauce

Doesn't this look sublime?

It was.

I also saw my friend, Hiwot, and we talked injera. Mine is coming along. Post about that soon!

Home again, home again, jiggity jig

The kids are such great travelers, but today was hella long. The drive between DC and Wrightsville Beach is about three hours past crazy-inducing, but it's so nice to be there that it's worth it. 

We were sad to leave by also very happy to pull up in front of home. Home. That word conjures so much. During the last couple miles, we talked about what we looked forward to returning to: Nutmeg, "my room," "my bed," amongst others. 

Walking in did not disappoint. Hugs all around for pets and things familiar. I cleaned out the fridge, Tom mowed, the kids crafted a buffet of Minecraft-related perler bead things.

And then dinner. Thanks to our freezer (shrimp), crisper drawers (corn) and garden (greens and herbs), we ate well and were thankful to do so. Off to bed now.

Three hours of spring & a hell of a meal

Y'all! I wore shorts OUTSIDE for three hours today. It was bliss, despite the glare from my fish-belly-white legs. I raked, trimmed, did some mulching and uncovered a toad. Maybe he was finishing up his under-leaf winter sleep. 

Jack thought he was awesome. Oliver asked to hold him and though he at first responded, "Ugh, he's mushy on my hand!" came around and cottoned to the little guy too. Jack stroked him gently and he croaked several times before we carefully placed him back under a quilt of wet, decomposing leaves. 

Nearly struck dumb by the beauty of sunlight glowing through a crocus's lavender petals, I told the boys to grab drawing pads and colored pencils and try their hands at memorializing the scene. I put towels down so the damp ground wouldn't soak their bums, and draw they did. I  took art for years as a child and am so happy that my boys love it too.

My cute bugs

Jack's and Oliver's crocus drawings

A dear sitter came, and I cleaned the room of my own (AROMO). It felt so good to work out there for a while, writing uninterrupted in the quiet hum of nature.

And then on to dinner.

This warm salad, my caramelized fennel, leeks and orange, never disappoints. It's such a simple combination of flavors and textures and pairs beautifully with a variety of entrees. 

caramelized fennel, leeks and orange

Tonight, more halibut plus shrimp. T made a quick marinade of red pepper flakes, orange, coriander, olive oil, lemon and salt, and we tossed everything together, pan-roasted it and topped with cilantro. Satisfying.