Chicken and Shrimp with Lemon Cream Sauce

December, and the house begins its annual transformation — lights on the piazza, wreath on the door, the tree in the corner of the living room, smaller this year because I am the only one decorating and the only-ness reduces both the scale and the enthusiasm. Robert helps with the lights. James and Carrie help with the tree. But the orchestration — the vision, the timing, the particular way the stockings hang on the mantle — is mine, and the mine-ness is both burden and privilege, the way all traditions are burdens and privileges, the weight of carrying them forward balanced by the honor of being the carrier.

Carrie's Emory decision arrived on Friday, December 13th. She opened the email on her phone, standing in the kitchen, with the stillness of a girl who has wanted this specific thing for two years and who is about to discover whether the world agrees with her wanting. She read the first sentence. She looked up. "I got in," she said. And the sentence was quiet and enormous and the kitchen filled with it, and Robert hugged her and I hugged her and James hugged her from Columbia via FaceTime, and Mama, sitting in her chair, said, "What happened?" and Carrie said, "I got into college, Grandma," and Mama said, "Good girl," and the two words were the review, the blessing, the entire response to four years of work distilled into two words that Mama has probably said to Carrie a thousand times and that Carrie has never needed to hear more than she needed to hear them right now.

The relief was physical — I felt it in my shoulders, which dropped two inches, and in my hands, which stopped clenching around the spatula I was holding. My daughter is going to Emory. My daughter is going to Atlanta. My daughter is leaving, and the leaving is the success, and the success is the grief, and the grief is the pride, and the pride is the love, and the love is all of it, all at once, in a kitchen in December.

I made celebration dinner: Carrie's choice, which was shrimp and grits (of course — the Lowcountry dish she will miss most, the dish she learned to make this summer, the dish she will carry to Atlanta like a suitcase full of home). The shrimp were from the harbor. The grits were from Anson Mills. The meal was a homecoming disguised as a farewell, and the disguise was kind.

Carrie didn’t hesitate when I asked what she wanted for dinner that night — shrimp, always shrimp, the dish that says home in this family before any other word does. This chicken and shrimp with lemon cream sauce is the version I reach for when the occasion is both joyful and tender, when I need something that feels like a celebration but cooks gently, without fanfare, the way that kitchen felt after she said those three quiet words. The lemon brightens it; the cream holds it together — which is about right for a night like that one.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, halved lengthwise
1 lb large shrimp, peeled and deveined
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp black pepper
1/4 tsp garlic powder
2 tbsp olive oil, divided
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 cup heavy whipping cream
3 tbsp fresh lemon juice (about 1 large lemon)
1 tsp lemon zest
2 tbsp unsalted butter
2 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped
Cooked pasta or crusty bread, for serving

Instructions

Season the proteins. Pat the chicken and shrimp dry. Season both on all sides with salt, pepper, and garlic powder.
Sear the chicken. Heat 1 tbsp olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chicken and cook 4–5 minutes per side until golden and cooked through. Transfer to a plate and tent with foil to rest.
Cook the shrimp. Add the remaining 1 tbsp olive oil to the skillet. Add the shrimp in a single layer and cook 1–2 minutes per side until pink and just opaque. Remove to the plate with the chicken.
Build the sauce. Reduce heat to medium. Add the minced garlic to the pan and cook, stirring, for 30 seconds until fragrant. Pour in the white wine and scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Simmer 2–3 minutes until the wine reduces by half.
Add the cream. Pour in the heavy cream, lemon juice, and lemon zest. Stir to combine and bring to a gentle simmer. Cook 4–5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sauce thickens enough to coat a spoon.
Finish with butter. Remove the pan from heat and swirl in the butter until melted and glossy. Taste and adjust seasoning with additional salt, pepper, or lemon as needed.
Combine and serve. Return the chicken and shrimp to the skillet and spoon the sauce over them. Garnish with fresh parsley. Serve immediately over pasta or alongside crusty bread to catch the sauce.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken and Shrimp with Lemon Cream Sauce — The Celebration Dinner Carrie Chose