By Thirty-six. My birthday was yesterday — the seventh — and I spent most of it working, which is my preference. Cole took the morning accounts without asking and I spent the morning at the rescue facility in Billings, which meant I was driving when I would otherwise have had to figure out what to do with the day. Freckles the appaloosa has been cleared for adoption after six months of rehabilitation. I was there for the final assessment and she walked out of the facility under her own authority, sound, and stepped into a trailer belonging to a young woman named Cassidy who'd been waiting three months for her. I stood in the parking lot and watched the trailer leave and felt the specific satisfaction of a long piece of work completed. That was enough of a birthday.
Mom made the chocolate cake. She does every year. She put a single candle in the center, which I've noticed is what she does when she doesn't want to count — when the number is large enough that putting the right number of candles feels like a comment rather than a celebration. One candle is a birthday. Any number of candles is a statement about mortality. I appreciate the single candle.
Dad was at the table. He was having a good day — the good days come in clusters, three or four in a row, and then a harder stretch. This was one of the good ones. He told a story I'd heard before about his father's ranch that made Mom laugh the way she laughs when something is familiar and still good. That's the best kind of laughter at a birthday dinner. The kind that tells you the table has enough history that the familiar things haven't worn out.
Made my own birthday dinner: pan-seared scallops with a lemon butter sauce and summer squash from the garden. Indulgent in the way that a birthday dinner should be. I ate it at the kitchen table and wasn't particularly reflective about turning thirty-six. I was just hungry, and the scallops were good, and that was enough.
The scallops were already on my mind before I even left the rescue facility — something about the drive back from Billings with the trailer gone from the lot and Freckles finally somebody else’s good problem put me in the mood for a dinner that earned its own satisfaction. If you don’t have scallops on hand, this asparagus-spinach pesto pasta with blackened shrimp is the dish that scratches the same itch: seafood with real sear on it, something green and bright from whatever the garden’s offering, and a sauce that makes the whole thing feel like you meant to do it. It’s a birthday dinner for someone who isn’t performing the occasion — just hungry, and glad to be at the table.
Asparagus-Spinach Pesto Pasta with Blackened Shrimp
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 12 oz linguine or spaghetti
- 1 lb large shrimp (16/20 count), peeled and deveined, tails on or off
- 1 bunch asparagus (about 1 lb), woody ends trimmed, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
- 2 cups fresh baby spinach, loosely packed
- 1/2 cup fresh basil leaves
- 1/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese, plus more to serve
- 1/4 cup pine nuts, lightly toasted
- 3 cloves garlic, divided
- 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
- 1 lemon, zested and juiced
- 1 1/2 teaspoons smoked paprika
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
- 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
- 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
- Kosher salt and black pepper to taste
- Reserved pasta water (about 1/2 cup)
Instructions
- Season the shrimp. Pat shrimp dry with paper towels. In a small bowl, combine smoked paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, oregano, cayenne, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon black pepper. Toss shrimp in the spice mixture until evenly coated. Set aside.
- Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil. Add pasta and cook according to package directions until al dente. In the last 3 minutes of cooking, add the asparagus pieces directly to the pot. Reserve 1/2 cup pasta water, then drain.
- Make the pesto. While pasta cooks, combine spinach, basil, Parmesan, pine nuts, 2 cloves garlic, lemon zest, and 2 tablespoons lemon juice in a food processor. Pulse until roughly chopped. With the motor running, stream in 1/4 cup olive oil until a smooth, slightly loose pesto forms. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
- Sear the shrimp. Heat remaining 2 tablespoons olive oil and the butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat until the butter foams and begins to settle. Add shrimp in a single layer — do not crowd the pan. Cook undisturbed for 2 minutes until a dark crust forms on the bottom, then flip and cook 1 to 1 1/2 minutes more until just opaque. Remove from heat.
- Toss and finish. Add drained pasta and asparagus to the skillet (off heat). Spoon in pesto and toss to coat, adding reserved pasta water a splash at a time until the sauce moves easily and coats every strand. Taste and adjust salt, pepper, and lemon juice.
- Serve. Divide pasta among bowls and top with blackened shrimp. Finish with extra Parmesan and a little fresh black pepper.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 510 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 20g | Carbs: 50g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 540mg