Shells, Scampi, and a Side of Laughter

While it wasn’t exactly something new, last week I cooked Shrimp Scampi with my grandma—Nonnie—and every time we do this, it feels like I’m learning something fresh. We have a little tradition where we pick a meal and make it together. It’s our thing. This time, Nonnie showed me—again—the proper way to clean the shrimp. Most people skip that part and go for the pre-shelled stuff, but Nonnie says by saving the shells to use for the sauce. It’s a little gross, not going to lie, but once you smell the way it deepens the flavor, you get why she’s stuck with it all these years. One of these days, I’ll probably try the easier route just to compare, but for now, I’ve found that the longer process really does make the dish taste richer. Cooking with her is always fun. We laugh, we mess up, we multitask like it’s a cooking show in fast-forward. I’ve finally figured out where most of the tools are, and I’m learning how to move faster so nothing burns while we’re goofing off. She keeps me on my toes, and somehow we still make it all work. When everything’s done, we both set the table together—plates first, forks next, and that quiet little moment before we dig in. It always feels rewarding to see the meal we made sitting there, still steaming, ready to be shared. It’s not just about the food—it’s about the time, the teamwork, and the memories tied into every bite.

This is what the meal looks like, so delicious!