By August, and the manuscript of The Librarian's Table is with Catherine Wells. The sending was the letting go, the same letting go I practice every time a child leaves the house or a woman moves to a group home or a mother dies or a book is placed in the hands of a stranger. The letting go is the practice. The practice is the life.
Carrie is preparing for her senior year at Emory — the last year, the final semester, the completion of the degree that was interrupted by Japan and that she resumed with the particular intensity of a woman who has been a teacher and who now returns to being a student with the wisdom that teaching provides: the wisdom of knowing what learning looks like from the other side of the desk.
James called on Sunday. He and Elise are talking about houses — not buying yet, but looking, the looking being the planning, the planning being the future. He said, "We want somewhere with a good kitchen." The wanting of a good kitchen was the inheritance — not the recipes alone but the understanding that the kitchen is the home's heart and that the heart must be good, the way Mama's kitchen was good, the way my kitchen is good, the good that comes from being used with love.
I made Mama's pickled shrimp — the August cold dish, the vinegar-marinated shrimp, the dish that says summer is winding down and the winding is delicious. The shrimp marinated for twenty-four hours, and the twenty-four hours were the patience, and the patience was the shrimp.
Mama’s pickled shrimp needs no embellishment, but it has always had one companion at the table: a sharp, cold cocktail sauce made from scratch, the kind that comes together in minutes and tastes like someone cared enough to make it themselves rather than reach for a jar. When James said he wanted somewhere with a good kitchen, I thought of this sauce—of the way a good kitchen isn’t the countertops or the appliances but the willingness to make the small things from scratch, the willingness to let patience be the ingredient. This is the sauce I set beside the shrimp, and it is the recipe I’ll write down for Carrie and for James and for whoever else comes to the table wanting to know what love tastes like when summer is winding down.
Homemade Cocktail Sauce
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 1 cup ketchup
- 2 tablespoons prepared horseradish (or more to taste)
- 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
- 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
- 1/2 teaspoon hot sauce (such as Tabasco)
- 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
- Salt and black pepper to taste
Instructions
- Combine. In a small bowl, whisk together the ketchup, horseradish, lemon juice, Worcestershire sauce, hot sauce, and garlic powder until fully incorporated.
- Taste and adjust. Taste the sauce and add more horseradish for heat, lemon juice for brightness, or hot sauce for bite. Season with salt and pepper as needed.
- Chill. Cover and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes before serving to allow the flavors to come together. The sauce keeps well covered in the refrigerator for up to two weeks.
- Serve. Spoon into a serving dish alongside chilled shrimp, pickled shrimp, or any cold seafood. A little extra lemon wedge on the side never hurts.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 35 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 9g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 310mg