Buying — Cooking Scallops — The Cast Iron Doesn’t Lie, and Neither Does the Table

Twelve years. Six hundred and twenty weeks. I have been writing this blog for twelve years, and the woman who started it — sixty-one years old, newly retired, typing with one finger on an iPad while squinting at the screen and muttering about technology — that woman is still here. She is older and slower and her A1C is better and her right knee is titanium and her left knee is talking about retirement and her great-grandchildren now number twelve and her kitchen has cooked five weddings and her refrigerator is a museum and her watermelon has a four-generation dynasty and her cast iron skillet is ninety-two years old and has never seen soap. But she is here. She is still here.

Twelve-year accounting: Two great-grandchildren born this year (none — the addition happened last year. This year was consolidation). One wedding (Andre and Tiffany). One newspaper feature (front page). One Lowcountry boil that broke two hundred and sixty. Gladys hit nine on the cobbler. Earl Jr. is cancer-free for a full year. Ruthie Mae is alive in Augusta. Michael said "ba-ba want gruh" and invented a sentence. Pearl ate shrimp with three calm expressions. The watermelon grew for the fourth year. The garden produced. The church stood. The chair was set. The food was made. The blog was written. The life continued.

Twelve years of "now go on and feed somebody." Twelve years of shrimp and grits and collard greens and cornbread and the stories that go with them. Twelve years of telling you — whoever you are, wherever you are, reading this on a screen that I still don't fully understand — that the food matters. That the table matters. That the sitting down and the eating together and the passing of the plate from hand to hand is the most important thing we do. More important than work. More important than money. More important than everything except love, and the food IS the love, and if you don't believe me, come to my kitchen. I will feed you. I will always feed you.

Made shrimp and grits tonight. Year twelve. Same dish. Same truth. Same woman. Older. Wiser. Wider. With a titanium knee and a cast iron skillet and twelve years of proof that the only thing that matters is the next meal. And the one after that. And the one after that.

Now go on and feed somebody.

Shrimp and grits was the dish I made tonight, same as I’ve made on every anniversary of this blog, but I want to leave you with something you can take into your own kitchen — and if you’re ready to step past the shrimp and try something equally worthy of your cast iron, scallops are the answer. I have been asked about scallops more times than I can count, mostly because people are afraid of them, and fear has no place at my table. Twelve years of proof: the only thing between you and a perfect sear is a dry scallop, a hot pan, and the nerve to leave it alone. Everything I know about buying and cooking scallops is right here below, and it is the same truth I started this blog with — good ingredients, honest heat, and love enough to feed somebody.

Buying & Cooking Scallops

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 6 minutes | Total Time: 16 minutes | Servings: 4

What to Look for When Buying Scallops

• Always buy dry scallops — wet scallops are treated with sodium tripolyphosphate, which holds extra water and prevents a proper sear
• Dry scallops look slightly ivory or beige; wet scallops look bright white and may sit in milky liquid
• Ask your fishmonger directly: “Are these dry?” A good fishmonger will know
• Fresh scallops should smell like the ocean — clean and briny, never fishy or sour
• Sea scallops (large) are best for pan-searing; bay scallops (small) are better for soups and pasta
• Plan on 3–4 large sea scallops per person as a main, 2 as a starter

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 lbs large dry sea scallops (about 12–16 scallops)
• 1/2 tsp kosher salt
• 1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
• 1 tbsp neutral oil with a high smoke point (avocado, canola, or refined coconut)
• 2 tbsp unsalted butter
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 tbsp fresh lemon juice (about 1 lemon)
• 1 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped, for serving
• Lemon wedges, for serving

Instructions

1. Dry the scallops thoroughly. Pat each scallop completely dry with paper towels — press firmly on all sides. This is the single most important step. Any surface moisture will steam the scallop instead of searing it and you will not get that golden crust. Do not skip this.
2. Remove the side muscle. Feel along the side of each scallop for a small, tough rectangular tag of muscle. Peel it off and discard it. It will be chewy if left on.
3. Season right before cooking. Season both flat sides of each scallop with salt and pepper just before they go into the pan. Do not season ahead of time — salt draws moisture out.
4. Get your pan screaming hot. Heat your cast iron skillet (or a stainless steel pan — do not use nonstick) over high heat for 2 full minutes. Add the oil and heat until it shimmers and just begins to smoke. You want high, honest heat.
5. Sear the first side — and do not touch them. Place the scallops flat-side down in the pan, leaving at least an inch of space between each one. Do not move them. Do not nudge them. Do not check them. Let them cook undisturbed for 2 to 2 1/2 minutes until a deep golden-brown crust forms on the bottom. If they stick, they are not ready — wait another 30 seconds.
6. Flip once and finish. Flip each scallop with tongs. Immediately add the butter and garlic to the pan. As the butter melts and foams, tilt the pan slightly and spoon the garlic butter over the top of each scallop. Cook 1 1/2 to 2 minutes more. The scallops are done when they feel firm but still have a slight give in the center — like a just-set custard. Do not overcook.
7. Finish with lemon and serve immediately. Remove scallops to a warm plate. Add lemon juice to the pan, swirl with the remaining butter, and pour over the scallops. Scatter fresh parsley on top. Scallops wait for no one — serve right away.

Serving Suggestions

• Over creamy stone-ground grits for a full Lowcountry dinner
• Alongside wilted spinach or sautéed greens
• On top of a simple pasta with olive oil and capers
• With crusty bread to catch every drop of the garlic butter

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 210 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 5g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 480mg