Creamy Lemon Butter Shrimp Pasta

Mark called from San Diego with news about Carmen. They're serious. Not engaged yet, but the kind of serious where you stop saying "my girlfriend" and start saying "Carmen" as though her name is self-evident, as though the world already knows who she is because she's already part of the architecture. Carmen is Filipina-American, grew up in National City near the naval base, and Mark met her at a Navy function — two Filipino-Americans in the military finding each other, which in San Diego's large Filipino community is less coincidence than probability.

I like Carmen from our video calls — she's direct, funny, unbothered by Mark's military stoicism in a way that suggests she either sees through it or doesn't care about it, both of which are good signs. Lourdes likes her too, which she expresses by asking when the wedding is, a question she poses every time Mark's name comes up, regardless of context. "Mark fixed his car." "When is the wedding?" "Mark got a promotion." "When is the wedding?" Lourdes is nothing if not consistent.

I celebrated the news by making palabok — the thick rice noodles with the shrimp sauce that I associate with celebration, with parties, with the dishes that get made when something good happens. The sauce is the thing — shrimp stock thickened with annatto and cornstarch, poured over the noodles like a golden blanket, topped with crushed chicharron and hard-boiled eggs and green onions. It's festive. It announces itself. It says: something is happening in this kitchen, and the something is joy.

I brought some to Lourdes. She ate it and said, "Your sauce is better this year." I nearly dropped the spoon. Lourdes has never said my sauce is better. She has said "not bad" and "needs more shrimp" and "your father made better sauce" (debatable, and impossible to verify since the man is dead and took his sauce secrets with him). But "better this year" is growth acknowledged, improvement noted, the student surpassing her earlier attempts. It's not surpassing the master — I will never surpass Lourdes, and I don't need to — but it's getting closer. The gap between my cooking and hers is narrowing. The narrowing is the work. The work is the point.

Mark called again later to talk to Lourdes directly. I handed her the phone and she immediately asked about Carmen and then asked when the wedding is and Mark said, "Mama, we've been dating for eight months," and Lourdes said, "Your father proposed after six." Mark sighed. Lourdes smiled. The Santos family operates on love expressed as pressure and pressure expressed as lumpia, and none of us has figured out how to change it, and I'm not sure we want to.

I know this isn’t palabok — palabok has its own architecture, its own annatto-gold sauce, its chicharron crown, and I’ll make it again the next time Mark calls with news worth celebrating. But on the nights when I want that same feeling of something warm and shrimp-forward poured generously over noodles, this creamy lemon butter shrimp pasta is what I reach for: it has the same festive logic, the same sense that the sauce is the point, and it comes together fast enough that you can be eating by the time the next good thing happens.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

12 oz linguine or spaghetti
1 lb large shrimp, peeled and deveined
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
3/4 cup heavy cream
1/3 cup dry white wine (or low-sodium chicken broth)
Zest and juice of 1 large lemon
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped
Salt and black pepper to taste
1 tablespoon olive oil

Instructions

Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to package directions until al dente. Reserve 1/2 cup pasta water before draining. Set pasta aside.
Season the shrimp. Pat shrimp dry with paper towels and season on both sides with salt, black pepper, and a pinch of red pepper flakes.
Sear the shrimp. Heat olive oil and 1 tablespoon butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add shrimp in a single layer and cook 1 to 2 minutes per side until pink and just cooked through. Transfer to a plate and set aside.
Build the sauce. Reduce heat to medium. Add remaining 3 tablespoons butter to the same skillet. Once melted, add garlic and red pepper flakes and cook 1 minute until fragrant, stirring constantly so the garlic doesn’t brown.
Deglaze and simmer. Pour in white wine (or broth) and let it reduce by half, about 2 minutes. Add heavy cream, lemon zest, and lemon juice. Stir to combine and simmer 3 to 4 minutes until the sauce thickens slightly.
Add the cheese. Stir in Parmesan cheese until melted and smooth. If the sauce feels too thick, add a splash of reserved pasta water and stir to loosen.
Combine and finish. Add the drained pasta to the skillet and toss to coat in the sauce. Return the shrimp to the pan and fold gently to incorporate. Taste and adjust salt and pepper.
Serve. Divide among bowls and top with fresh parsley and an extra grating of Parmesan. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Creamy Lemon Butter Shrimp Pasta — The Sauce Is the Celebration