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An octopus does battle with a lobster and an eel, in Pompeii.

Recipe below: Shrimp Salad with Ceci, Thyme, and Chives

One of my favorite categories of Italian food is cold seafood salads, insalate di mare, the kind you find on antipasto tables in Southern Italy, made with calamari, shrimp, octopus, clams, mussels, and sometimes scallops. They always seem glamorous, even a little magical, glistening with olive oil and studded with bits of fresh herbs and possibly a scattering of good capers or olives, smelling of the sea. I can never resist them when they appear before me looking beautiful. If you want to drink a lot of good Southern Italian white wine, such as a Fiano di Avellino, Greco di Tufo, Falanghina, Carricante, or Vermentino, seafood salad is what you want to have with it.

You don’t see these salads around  New York much anymore, and when you do they’re often at Little Italy types of places where the seafood is rubbery and loaded with rancid garlic and subpar olive oil. This makes me so sad. Prepared with thought and care, these salads are exquisite. All you have to do is have your culinary brain turned to “pay attention” mode. First, and most important, choose ultrafresh seafood. Second, make sure you don’t overcook it. Third, add seasonings that make sense. For instance, bad garlic or too much garlic won’t ever make sense, and neither will low-rent olive oil or crappy olives. Other than that, you can really play around.

Sicilian Fish Market, by Isabella Sunday.

This time I decided to focus on herbs. Thyme and chives are two perennials that come up early in my garden. Chives seemed like a good idea because stronger oniony things such as shallot or red onion can get too strong when they sit in olive oil for a while. This is important since these salads are usually made ahead and chilled. I chose thyme over the Italian oregano I also have coming up because I wanted a gentler overall feel.

My family always served an insalata di frutti di mare, a mixed seafood salad, on Christmas eve, usually spooned over friselle, the hard black pepper and lard biscuits popular in Puglia and Campania (not to be confused with the hard, flat, split bagel-shaped things that also go by that name, although those are also used for this purpose). The olive oil, lemon, and seafood juices mingle and soak into the hard bread, softening it, combining for a lovely texture and flavor. Friselle are not easy to find anymore (although Di Palo’s in Little Italy often carries them), so I served this with bruschetta rubbed with garlic and olive oil.

Pescheria Pizzi Pizzi, in Naples. Who is that man in the photo on the wall, I wonder.

You can leave the chickpeas out if you like, but I needed a way to stretch a few pounds of shrimp for an unexpected last minute crowd. If you decide to leave out the ceci, you might want to add calamari. Choose ones on the small side, cut them into rings, and poach them the same way you do the shrimp (but separately). They’ll probably take about a minute less.

Shrimp Salad with Ceci, Thyme, and Chives

For the poached shrimp:

4 fresh bay leaves
Sea salt
A few thyme sprigs
A drizzle of rice wine vinegar
A big splash of dry vermouth
Sugar
2 pounds large shrimp, peeled and deveined (I left their tails on, but that’s up to you)

Plus:

2 cups cooked chickpeas
3 tender inner celery stalks, cut into small dice, including the leaves, lightly chopped
6 long chives, chopped (if they have flowers, you can include those too)
8 long thyme sprigs, the leaves lightly chopped
A handful of Italian parsley leaves, lightly chopped
¼ cup Sicilian salt-packed capers, soaked in several changes of water and then rinsed
Sea salt
Black pepper
2 teaspoons of white miso, dissolved in 2 tablespoons of hot water
Extra-virgin olive oil (I used Benza Taggiasca oil from Liguria, a brand I love; I get it from Gustiamo)
The juice and zest from 1 large lemon

To poach the shrimp, set up a large pot of water (about as much as you’d want for a pound of pasta), add the bay leaves, salt, thyme sprigs, rice wine vinegar, vermouth, and a little sugar. Bring it to a boil, and let it bubble for about 3 minutes to meld all the flavors. Add the shrimp. The temperature will immediately go down. Let the heat come back up. When you see little bubbles on the surface, not a hard boil, turn off the flame, and let the shrimp cook gently in the waning heat for about 2 minutes. That should be enough to make it perfectly tender. Drain the shrimp into a colander, and then spread it out on paper towels to cool slightly. Refrigerate to cool further.

To assemble the salad, get out a large, wide, pretty serving bowl. Add the shrimp and the chickpeas.  Add the celery, chives, thyme, parsley, and capers.  Season with salt and black pepper. Combine the miso, about 3 tablespoons of olive oil, and the lemon juice and zest, and mix well. Pour that over the salad, and toss gently with your hands.

Chill for about an hour. Now taste for seasoning, adding more salt, black pepper, olive oil, or lemon if needed.

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The Colors of My Pasta, by Erica De Mane.

Recipe below: Scialatielli with Shrimp and Miso Butter Tomato Sauce

Recipe below in text: Escarole Salad with Pear, Almonds, and Montasio

My plan was to make this pasta with calamari, but the squid I found was too large. I needed it small because my idea was to cook everything quickly, keeping the taste fresh and the texture bouncy. Bright red sauce, white calamari. Larger squid needs a slow simmer to become tender, and that would  have compromised the freshness I was going for. So I went with shrimp instead.

The Lobster Place, in Chelsea Market, has a good retail fish counter. A lot of people don’t know that because they go there only to eat the fancy sushi and steamed lobsters that are mentioned in all the New York City guidebooks. The place is always mobbed with Japanese tourists, who ignore the fish counter, likely having no place to cook, so it stays freed up for the locals. The other day they had good-looking wild-caught medium-size shrimp from the Gulf of Mexico. It smelled sweet, and I could sense that its pretty gray shells would make a nice broth for the pasta. And they did.

The sauce I had in mind for the dish was a little unusual, mixing together miso, ginger, shallot, butter,  vermouth, rosemary, and tomatoes. But I tell you it worked. It tasted like Christmas, and I might just go with it for my Christmas Eve fish dinner, maybe with calamari, as I originally intended, or with lobster. My grandfather Erico, who I never met,  used to make pasta with lobster every Christmas Eve. I obviously never tasted his version, but that makes the nostalgic pull of the dish even stronger. My mother said he added a lot of brandy.

While I was at Chelsea Market I made my way downstairs to Buon’Italia. If you’ve never been, just think of it as an intimate, more manageable Eataly. I never leave it pissed off, unlike Eataly. And it’s just starting to get its Christmas decor together. I’m not usually big on Christmas decorations unless they have a dark edge, but I do love holiday food displays. Here are photos of a couple of appealing ones at Buon’Italia. I need to go back and get some of that marzipan.

While at Buon’Italia, I picked up a bag of  Setaro pasta to go with my shrimp dish. Setaro is a great old pasta company in Napoli. I chose scialatielli, a thick, stubby fettuccine-type shape from the Amalfi coast that I love for its chewiness. It’s used primarily for tomato and seafood sauces. When it’s made fresh, parmigiano and basil are sometimes worked into the dough. Made dry, it never seems to have that flavoring. I have made it fresh myself, and maybe I will for Christmas. If so, I’ll get a recipe together for you.

If you’d like to try my Scialatielli with Shrimp and Miso Butter Tomato Sauce, here’s what you’ll need to buy and do.

Scialatielli with Shrimp and Miso Butter Tomato Sauce

  • Servings: 4 as a main course
  • Print

1 ½ pounds large shrimp, shelled and deveined, but you’ll want to keep the shells
Salt
Aleppo pepper
A big pinch of sugar
A drizzle of olive oil
¾ stick unsalted butter
½ cup dry vermouth
1 heaping tablespoon white miso
2 shallots, diced
A 1/2-inch-thick chunk fresh ginger, minced
A long stem of rosemary, the leaves chopped
2 fresh bay leaves
1 28-ounce can Italian plum tomatoes, roughly chopped, saving the juice

In a bowl, toss the shrimp with a little salt, Aleppo to taste, a big pinch of sugar, and a drizzle of olive oil. Stick it in the fridge until you’re ready to cook it.

Put half of the butter in a saucepan, and melt it over medium heat. Add the shrimp shells, and sauté them until they turn pink. Add the vermouth and miso and about 2 cups of water. Stir to dissolve the miso. Let the mix simmer, uncovered, until it’s sweetly shrimpy smelling and has reduced by half. Strain it.

In a large sauté pan, melt the remaining butter over medium heat, and add the shallots and the ginger. Sauté until soft and fragrant, about 3 minutes. Add half of the rosemary and the bay leaves, and sauté a minute longer, just to release their essences. Add the shrimp broth, and simmer for about another 3 minutes. Add the tomatoes, and cook for about 5 minutes.

While the sauce is cooking, set up a pot of pasta water and bring it to a boil. Add salt. Add the scialatielli.

Get out a another large sauté pan, and get it hot over high heat. Add the shrimp, and sear them quickly until they’re lightly browned but still a little undercooked. Add them to the tomato sauce, stirring them in. Add a little more Aleppo if you like, and taste for salt. You may or may not need it, depending on how salty your miso is.

When the scialatielli is al dente, tip it into a large, wide serving bowl. Pour on the shrimp sauce, and give it a gentle toss. Sprinkle the remaining rosemary over the top. Serve right away.

To follow this pasta, I served a salad of escarole, pear, almonds, and Montasio cheese (also from Buon’Italia). If you’d like to try it, buy a head of escarole, and pull off the tough outer leaves (saving them for a sauté or a soup). Tear the tender inner leaves into bite-size pieces, and put them in a salad bowl.  Scatter on a sliced pear, some lightly toasted whole almonds, and some slices of Montasio. I tossed this with a dressing of sherry wine vinegar, good olive oil, salt, and black pepper. I really like that combination.

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