Who knew there was a story in shrimp scampi?
I’ve been putting off writing this blog for a long time.
The problem was (is), I’m untrained. I have no formal writing nor culinary training. I lived on the Swiss-Italian border, not even in Italy, and I haven’t spoken Italian regularly in almost four years. Who am I to write a blog about Italian culture?
What I realized today is that I am a storyteller and always have been. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s crafting a story. Like Seinfeld, I can build a story out of the most mundane thing. Today, that “thing” is shrimp scampi.
It snowed in Virginia today, and with an espresso in hand and and my feet bundled up in fuzzy slippers, I finally sat down to write. On the menu for dinner was shrimp scampi. I wanted my husband and I to share the snowy evening over a comforting dish of pasta and a glass of vino. Is there anything more romantic than, wine, buttery noodles, and a winter wonderland? I doubt it.
While battling writer’s block and dreaming about my next meal, it occurred to me that I don’t know anything about the origins of shrimp scampi. I've never seen it on an Italian menu, nor does anyone I know cook it besides my parents. Growing up, it was our Christmas Eve go-to on the rare occasion that we were home in Virginia for the holidays. My parents would serve pink, glistening shrimp over a plate of angel hair pasta and I gobbled it up. For a while, shrimp scampi was my favorite meal. In our budget-conscious household, seafood was a luxury, so six-year-old me thought our Christmas Eve dinner was on par with surf & turf. If plated elegantly, the shrimp and pasta with a sprinkling of parsley could appear top-tier. Little did I know, shrimp scampi was so 1972.
When I Googled the origins of my former favorite entree, I learned that I wasn’t the first writer with this question. In 2007, Melissa Clark at the New York Times did some research on the so-called Italian classic. As it turns out, scampi joins the ranks of many Italian dishes that evolved during immigration. “Scampi” is actually the Italian word for langoustines (I knew it didn’t mean shrimp - that’s “gamberi”). In Italy, scampi are served sautéed with olive oil. Since Italians in the U.S. couldn’t find langoustines, they used shrimp instead. Someone extra creative decided to lump the two words together to name the dish, and modern-day shrimp scampi was born.
Like most entrees passed down by immigrant families, there are many versions of shrimp scampi. My favorite is simple - butter, olive oil, dry white wine, and a lot of garlic and black pepper. I’m also a sucker for finishing with fresh lemon juice and parsley, and per the advice of Queen Lidia, we add breadcrumb to thicken the sauce. While I prefer scampi with capellini (angel hair pasta), my extra-particular husband is more of a linguine guy, so I compromise. To those food snobs thinking we should leave the shrimp scampi to 70’s-era red-checked tablecloth, drippy candle restaurants, I say:
More for me.