Surf and Turf — The Table We Set When Love Is the Main Course

Christmas Day. The whole family at the townhouse. Daddy in his recliner, watching the kids and falling asleep mid-sentence. Honey ham. Greens. Mac and cheese. Cornbread. Three pies. The house was loud the way it should be.

I went to the cemetery Saturday morning. Brenda's grave is on the hill at South-View. Curtis still goes most Sundays. I left a small bouquet of magnolias.

Pastor preached about the prodigal son again. He preaches about that boy at least three times a year. The text is the text but every preaching is different. I cried in the second service this time. Don't ask me why.

Darnell sent a photo from Clarksville. The garden is producing. He grew tomatoes the size of softballs. I sent him back a photo of my sweet potato casserole. We are competitive about food now in our middle age.

Wednesday Bible study at the church. We read through Proverbs. The women in my row argued about whether wisdom is built or born. I said both. They agreed, sort of.

Sunday service at New Birth this morning. The choir sang. I sang soprano in the second alto row. Pastor preached about Naomi and Ruth. The congregation said amen. I said amen.

I drove to the Walmart on Camp Creek Saturday morning. The kind of grocery run that takes two hours because you run into three people you know. Sister Patrice caught me in the produce. We talked about her grandbaby for fifteen minutes.

Saturday morning I had Set the Table at the Cascade Heights center. Twelve young women. We did baked chicken. One of them — Imani, sixteen — was so afraid of seasoning that she barely shook the salt. I stood next to her and put my hand over hers and said, baby, you cannot be afraid of food. We seasoned the chicken. The chicken came out right. She glowed.

Daddy sat in his chair after dinner watching the news. He fell asleep before the third quarter. Standard.

The kids were home for the weekend. The house was loud the way it should be.

I had a hard counseling case at school this week. A seventh-grade girl whose mama lost her job. We talked. I gave her my number. I told her she could call.

I read for an hour Sunday night before bed. Some novel about a Black woman in 1960s Alabama. Mama would have liked it.

Thursday I made cornbread for a sister at church whose husband had surgery. I dropped it off at the hospital. She cried at the door. I told her, eat the cornbread, baby. The food is the saying.

The blood pressure check was Wednesday. The numbers were borderline. The doctor wants me to walk more. I am walking more.

The neighbors had a Friday cookout this week. I brought my mac and cheese. They have come to expect this. I have come to expect this. The block is the block.

Derek and I had date night Friday. Same restaurant, same booth, same enchiladas for me and carne asada for him.

I made a casserole for the church potluck. The pan came back empty. That is the only review I trust.

Andre called from LA. He told the Kevin Hart story again. Twenty-some years and that boy is still telling that story. Everyone in this family is going to hear about Kevin Hart at our funerals.

Tuesday evening I sat at the kitchen table with my composition notebook and worked on the cookbook. From Brenda's Kitchen — that's the working title. I cannot write the introduction without crying yet.

Miss Ernestine called Tuesday. She's ninety-something and sharp as ever. She told me my potato salad still needs more mustard.

I have been feeding people all week — cornbread at the hospital door, mac and cheese across the block, baked chicken with sixteen young women who are just learning that food is love made edible — and somewhere in the middle of all that giving, I decided I wanted to make something extravagant just because I could. Christmas Day at the townhouse, Daddy in his recliner, the house loud the way it should be — that kind of joy deserves a dish that matches it. Surf and Turf is what I reach for when the occasion is too full to settle for ordinary. Miss Ernestine would probably say it needs more mustard, but I think it’s just right.

Surf and Turf

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 2

Ingredients

• 2 ribeye or New York strip steaks (about 1 inch thick, 8–10 oz each)
• 1/2 lb large shrimp, peeled and deveined (tails on)
• 2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
• 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 teaspoon onion powder
• 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
• 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
• Juice of 1/2 lemon
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
• Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

1. Season the steaks. Pat steaks dry with paper towels. Season generously on both sides with kosher salt, black pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, and smoked paprika. Let rest at room temperature for at least 10 minutes before cooking.
2. Sear the steaks. Heat a cast-iron skillet over high heat until smoking. Add 1 tablespoon olive oil. Place steaks in the pan and sear without moving for 3–4 minutes per side for medium-rare, or until your desired doneness. In the last 2 minutes, add 2 tablespoons of butter and the thyme, tilting the pan and basting the steaks continuously.
3. Rest the steaks. Transfer steaks to a cutting board and tent loosely with foil. Let rest for 5–7 minutes while you cook the shrimp.
4. Cook the shrimp. In the same skillet over medium-high heat, add the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil and 1 tablespoon butter. Add minced garlic and cook for 30 seconds until fragrant. Add shrimp in a single layer and season with salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes. Cook 1–2 minutes per side until pink and curled. Squeeze lemon juice over the shrimp and toss to coat.
5. Plate and serve. Place each steak on a warm plate. Arrange shrimp alongside or on top of the steak. Spoon any pan drippings over both. Garnish with fresh parsley and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 620 | Protein: 58g | Fat: 41g | Carbs: 3g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 540mg