Long December

Ben has been pushing HARD for this shrimp dish since spying it in one of his cookbooks. We changed it a bit, and I’m writing up a version of what we will do next time, based on our preferences. 

Citrus Shrimp Kabobs

1/2 cup orange marmalade

1/4 cup orange juice

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 teaspoon Cajun seasoning

2 pounds raw shrimp, peeled

Combine all ingredients except for shrimp in a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Remove from heat. Reserve 1/2 cup sauce to drizzle over shrimp before serving.

Thread shrimp on kabob sticks and baste with remaining sauce 1 hour before grilling.

Grill shrimp over high direct heat for about 3 minutes total (turning once) until pink and curled. Heat reserved sauce and drizzle over kabobs.

We have been cooking on Mondays and posting on Wednesdays for awhile now. Usually Phil comes home late Mondays, so Ben and I are on our own. This week, Phil was able to be home and pitch in. He spear-headed the shrimp project, while I led the fettuccine team. We changed some ratios with the pasta, but kept all the ingredients intact.

https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/egg-fettuccine-with-figs-rosemary-and-pancetta-105408

It takes all my energy, after a hard day at work, to reign Ben in, and stay on point (heaven help us if he ever gets a Twitter account!) but when Phil is added to the mix, the Sprungerian effect is a force to be reckoned with.

Don’t get me wrong. Phil knows what he’s doing in the kitchen, and he is the guy who will walk in the door, and 20 seconds later be an effective part of the team, but the kitchen and my nerves take a hit.

At a certain point (I don’t know when, because I was on pasta) Phil had a minor incident with the shrimp marinade. The original recipe called for half a cup of honey. Some of it hit the floor, and it was a wild scene. I tried, I really did, to ignore the way my boots stuck to the floor at every step. I failed. Every three minutes or so, I pulled up my feet with a dramatic sigh, and did some high stepping, laughing as I brought my knees to my chest. We all kept on with our respective meal duties, but eventually, after a particularly loud snort, and high step on my part, Phil said, “Alexa, play Long December.” 

As usual, Phil’s timing was impeccable. I smiled, because I love this Counting Crows song and because I took Phil’s unspoken point that a little honey on the kitchen floor beats the pants off a pandemic. We listened, sang along (to Ben’s dismay), cooked, and “talked a little while about the year.” 

We are all so tired. All of us. All humans living on Earth. We are frayed and raw and stretched thinner every day. Sometimes we spill honey on the floor. Sometimes we track through it. Sometimes we over exaggerate our annoyance. But if we are lucky, we are surrounded by people we love, who turn a sticky situation into a reminder that we are a team.