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Sunday Shrimp Pasta Bake -- The Feast I Stirred Through Tears

I met David Jr. Earl Jr. and Carolyn and Jasmine brought him down from Atlanta, and I held that baby in my arms and I looked at his face and I saw the future. Not a metaphor — I literally saw the future, because this child carries the Henderson name and the Henderson genes and the Henderson stubbornness forward into a world I will not see but he will live in, and that is the most hopeful thing I know.

He is three weeks old. Small, warm, wrinkled, perfect. He has David's nose and Jasmine's mouth and something around the eyes that I can't place — it's not Earl Jr., it's not Carolyn, it's older than that. It might be Earl. My Earl. The original. The man in the recliner. There's something in this baby's eyes that looks at you with the same quiet steadiness that Earl had, and if that's genetic memory or wishful thinking, I don't care. I'll take either one.

Amara met David Jr. too — cousin meeting cousin, toddler peering at newborn with the intense suspicion that older children reserve for the new arrivals. She poked his foot and said, "Baby small." I said, "You were that small once." She said, "No." She was. But toddlers don't believe in their own smallness. They believe in their own enormity. I respect that.

I cooked a feast. Of course I did. The whole family was in my kitchen for the first time since COVID started — Earl Jr., Carolyn, Jasmine, David, baby David Jr., Amara, Denise, Robert, Kayla. Nine people. Not twenty-four. Not the old days. But nine people in my kitchen, eating my food, holding my babies, and the house was loud and warm and alive and I stood at the stove and I stirred the grits and I wept with joy. Quietly. Into the grits. They didn't notice. The grits absorbed it. Grits absorb everything.

Now go on and feed somebody.

That day I had nine people in my kitchen — nine people who needed feeding, who deserved feeding — and the grits alone weren’t going to do it. I needed something that could go in the oven and hold while I held the baby, something rich and warm and generous enough to match the occasion. This Sunday Shrimp Pasta Bake is exactly that kind of dish: the sort of thing you pull out when the house is finally full again, when you need the food to say what words can’t quite reach. Make it for your crowd. Make it for your new arrivals. Make it because somebody in that room deserves a feast.

Sunday Shrimp Pasta Bake

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

  • 1 lb penne or rigatoni pasta
  • 1 1/2 lbs large shrimp, peeled and deveined
  • 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, drained
  • 1 can (10.5 oz) cream of shrimp or cream of mushroom soup
  • 1 cup sour cream
  • 1/2 cup chicken broth
  • 1 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning
  • 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
  • 2 cups shredded mozzarella cheese, divided
  • 1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
  • 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped
  • Salt to taste

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking dish and set aside.
  2. Cook the pasta. Boil pasta in salted water according to package directions until just al dente — it will finish cooking in the oven. Drain and set aside.
  3. Sauté aromatics. In a large skillet over medium heat, melt butter. Add onion and cook 4–5 minutes until softened. Add garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
  4. Season and cook the shrimp. Add shrimp to the skillet along with Old Bay, paprika, black pepper, and red pepper flakes if using. Cook 2–3 minutes, just until shrimp turn pink. Do not overcook — they will finish in the oven. Remove from heat.
  5. Make the sauce. In a large mixing bowl, stir together the drained diced tomatoes, cream of shrimp soup, sour cream, and chicken broth until smooth. Season with salt to taste.
  6. Combine. Add the cooked pasta and shrimp mixture to the bowl with the sauce. Stir in 1 cup of mozzarella and all of the Parmesan. Fold together until everything is evenly coated.
  7. Assemble and top. Pour the mixture into the prepared baking dish and spread evenly. Sprinkle the remaining 1 cup of mozzarella over the top.
  8. Bake. Bake uncovered at 375°F for 25–30 minutes, until the cheese is melted, bubbly, and golden at the edges.
  9. Rest and garnish. Let the bake rest for 5 minutes before serving. Scatter fresh parsley over the top and bring it straight to the table.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 480 | Protein: 32g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 46g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 720mg

Dorothy Henderson
About the cook who shared this
Dorothy Henderson
Week 257 of Dorothy’s 30-year story · Savannah, Georgia
Dot Henderson is a seventy-one-year-old grandmother, a retired school lunch lady, and the undisputed queen of Lowcountry cooking in her corner of Savannah, Georgia. She spent thirty-five years feeding schoolchildren — sneaking extra portions to the ones who looked hungry — and now she feeds her seven grandchildren every Sunday without exception. She cooks with lard, seasons by feel, and ends every recipe the same way her mama did: "Now go on and feed somebody."

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