Seafood Pasta Salad

Holy Week again. Second one with the blog. This year I made bacalao guisado on Good Friday — I made it with my eyes closed by this point, but it is the kind of dish that you want to make every year, because it is the kind of dish whose repetition is its gift. You are not trying to innovate. You are trying to continue.

I took Mami to the Spanish Mass at St. Augustine on Thursday. Father Ramírez again. He held her hand. She called him Padrecito. He said the prayers for her. She said, "Padre, I am ready." He said, "Not yet, Doña Luz María. Not yet." She smiled.

I have been replaying this moment all week. "I am ready." I know what she means. I am not writing any more about it, because to write about it makes it a thing, and I do not want it to be a thing before it has to be.

The bacalao guisado came out well. Rosa drove up Friday with Carlos and Camila. Sofía was there. Mami was there. Eduardo. We had a small Good Friday dinner — seven of us — with the salt cod stew, the yautía, the tostones, and a glass of wine for anyone who wanted. Camila had her own tiny plate of soft yautía and a little piece of the bacalao, boneless, fish-flaked-by-Abuela. She ate it. She pointed at the pot and said "eso!" I gave her another piece. Rosa said, "Ma, she is going to be eating your food for the next eighty years." I said, "Yes." I said, "That is the point." Rosa looked at me. She did not say anything. She nodded.

After dinner I sat with Mami on the couch. She was tired. She said, "Bacalao guisado was your grandmother's Easter." I said, "Yes, Mami." She said, "I miss her." I said, "Me too." She said, "She makes it better than both of us." I said, "I know, Mami." She said, "Do not forget." I said, "I will not forget."

Easter Sunday I cooked for fifteen. The full spread. Miguel Jr., Jenny, Lucas, Isabella, Mateo. Rosa, Carlos, Camila. Sofía. Mami. Ana drove up from Bridgeport. David was in Brooklyn; he called. Pernil, arroz con gandules, tostones, ensalada de coditos, flan. The menu that never changes. The chairs borrowed from Mrs. Pelletier. The kitchen a symphony of motion and heat and Spanish and laughter.

Mami ate at the table. She had a clear hour. She made Lucas sit next to her and she fed him small bites from her own plate, which is a Mami ritual from when he was a baby and which she had not done in a year. He ate the bites. He smiled at her. She said, "You are my first great-grandson." He said, "I know, Mami." He calls her Mami now, sometimes. He has heard me say it for two years. The chain bends and folds back on itself. Wepa.

The bacalao carried the Friday, but by Easter Sunday the table had grown to fifteen and I needed something that could be made ahead, something cool and ready while the pernil rested and the arroz finished — something that still said seafood, still honored the spirit of the week. This seafood pasta salad has become exactly that: the dish I make Saturday night so Sunday takes care of itself, a nod to the fish and the Friday still warm in all of us, and proof that the sea has more than one way to show up at the table.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 35 min (plus 1 hr chilling) | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 lb rotini or elbow pasta
1/2 lb cooked medium shrimp, peeled and deveined
1/2 lb imitation crab meat (or real lump crab), roughly chopped
1/2 lb small bay scallops, cooked
1 cup mayonnaise
1/4 cup sour cream
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
1 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
Salt and black pepper to taste
3 stalks celery, diced
1/2 red onion, finely diced
1/2 red bell pepper, diced
1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped
Paprika, for garnish

Instructions

Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to package directions until al dente. Drain, rinse under cold water to stop cooking, and set aside to cool completely.
Prepare the seafood. If using raw scallops, sear or poach them briefly until just cooked through, then cool. Pat shrimp, crab, and scallops dry with paper towels and cut shrimp in half if large.
Make the dressing. In a large bowl, whisk together mayonnaise, sour cream, lemon juice, white wine vinegar, Old Bay seasoning, and garlic powder until smooth. Season with salt and black pepper to taste.
Combine the salad. Add the cooled pasta to the bowl with the dressing. Fold in the celery, red onion, red bell pepper, and parsley until everything is evenly coated.
Fold in the seafood. Gently fold in the shrimp, crab, and scallops, taking care not to break the seafood apart. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.
Chill and serve. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving. Just before plating, give it a gentle stir and dust the top lightly with paprika.

Nutrition (per serving)

Seafood Pasta Salad — The Fish That Carries the Memory Forward