VINE CHAT

Scallops are ethereal food. Don't ever, ever waste any part of them - not the shell, not the pan juices, well, maybe the muscle that attaches the scallop to the shell but that's it.
Not everyone in my family has come around to scallop worship yet.  So I have to get pretty creative at dinner sometimes, when I am tired of shrimp and the salmon for sale isn't wild caught. I like pasta with my scallops, the other night I was out of lemons, and my kids didn't want scallops. So I told them we were having pasta for dinner. They said "Fine."

Fine.

After I cooked the scallops I was prepared to eat by myself, I made a sauce from the sweet pan juices. Waste not.

I soon discovered that the flavor of the tomato combined with the flavor of the sea is other-wordly. A culinary out of body experience. I usually never pair seafood with cheese but grated parmesan on top of the pasta with the scallops makes best better. The flavorful somethin somethin the scallop pan juices lend to the tomato sauce is a combination I never really thought of until I had to make two different dinners out of one. If necessity is the mother of invention, brilliance is born of hunger.  Comfort on a plate follows.

The tomato and the sea are a perfect rhapsody of flavor. I'll never, ever be boxed into a lemon-herb theme with seafood as long as I'm in charge of the kitchen.

Fruit de la mer and fruit of the vine...try it sometime. 

SCALLOPS, ORZO AND TOMATOES
Boil water in a heavy saucepan and add some salt.
When water is boiling add, one cup orzo pasta.
Salt and pepper both sides of diver (sea) scallops.
Pour about 1 - 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil into a pan, warm over medium-high heat.
Sear scallops on both sides until they caramelize, about 3-4 minutes per side.
Remove scallops from heat, let rest.
Turn off heat under scallop pan.
When pasta is al dente, drain, and reserve 2 ladlefuls of pasta water.
Add pasta water to pan used to cook scallops.
Loosen the browned bits from the bottom of the scallop pan with wooden spoon over medium-high heat.
Add 3/4 cup tomato sauce to scallop pan, blend into liquid in pan, let it simmer 3-4 minutes.
When sauce has reduced and thickened, add drained orzo pasta to pan.
Add some chopped basil, fresh is best, about 5 leaves.
Transfer to platter.
Top orzo with scallops.

Don't get me wrong, I love fried calamari with lemons, tartar sauce and cocktail sauce, but I had grilled calamari last night and I need to tell you about it.

I was served rings of calamari that had grill marks - I am guessing the calamari rings were placed on a grill pan and turned until ready. This is fine for appetizers, however, it would be much easier to do this with calamari steaks, which are just as easy to find in the store as calamari rings. When I try this recipe, I'll be using calamari steaks.

The grilled calamari rings were served atop basil oil - a bed of green oil on a white rectangular plate that looked like an emerald, holding Mediterranean style seafood. That was half the fun. All around the calamari were capers, chopped (pitted) Kalamata olives, diced tomatoes, and pine nuts. The pine nuts were not toasted.  I am going to toast mine, and add diced red onion and roasted red peppers when I try this recipe.

Finally, pesto sauce topped the grilled calamari.  Every bite was better than the last, it was like eating coastal Italy or Greece or Spain and having ten cardiologists patting you on the back as you indulged.

I haven't tried this yet, but here is what I am going to do...

Take...
Calamari steaks (defrosted if bought frozen)
Coarse grain salt and pepper to taste
EVOO (I assume you need no introduction), maybe Basil Oil if I have some
Chopped Kalamata olives
Diced: tomatoes, red onions, roasted red peppers
Capers
Toasted pine nuts
Pesto sauce (store-bought is just fine, Costco sells a good one)
Lemon slices, of course

Salt and pepper the calamari steaks.
In a pan made for grilling small items on the barbeque or in a stovetop grill pan (the kind with ridges for the grill marks, you know what I mean - Le Creuset makes the best ones), grill the calamari over medium-high heat on both sides until grill marks appear and calamari is cooked through (edges of steaks will turn up, calamari will be firm)
Chop steaks in slices.
To plate, pour some EVOO or basil oil onto plate, lay calamari slices atop oil.
Scatter chopped vegetables, pine nuts and capers around calamari.
Pour pesto sauce over calamari.
Serve with lemon wedges.

I imagine this would be fabulous with tube pasta or crusty bread - a meal for two people, an appetizer for a gathering, a snack to watch the Division Series.

I would not recommend eating this while watching Spongebob...you may start to see your new gourmet creation as Squidward. And I like Squidward.

This could be made a number of different ways, too.  Add diced mango and avocado instead of capers and red peppers, using a cilantro pesto instead of basil. Or make it Thai - chopped peanuts, cucumbers, hot peppers, cilantro infused oil and topped with lime juice. Yum, yum, yum.

I never knew Squidward was so diverse.

This happened years ago, but I still remember it.

I'm at BevMo (short for Beverages & More, a national chain of upscale wine/beer/spirits stores) with my four-year-old daughter Zoe, tempestuous to say the least, climbing in and out of a decrepit green shopping cart, and my newborn daughter, also in the cart, her car seat ("travel system") not so securely wedged into the front of the decrepit green shopping cart.

In this falling apart cart (there were no better ones available, really) I had the largest size Bombay Sapphire gin and an IPA of some sort. The IPA was for hubby and I. The gin was for a friend's birthday - a David Niven-type gem of a man who loves his gin and tonics and any time of the day but especially watching old movies.

The shopping went pretty well, I knew what I needed, had my debit card ready, my daughters were fed and my youngest asleep.

When we got to the checkout, Zoe's repetitive climbing in and out of the cart caused the front of the cart to snap shut, the car seat shooting up and almost taking the baby with it onto the floor.

Even though I caught her and my reflexes prevented disaster (apparently my forethought was turned off or I was hoping for the best, blindly), this, of course, caused loud screaming that echoed from one wall of the wherehouse store to the other, and all eyes fell on me.

The man in front of me, whom I never even noticed, picked up his Johnny Walker Blue Label off the belt and said, "Why don't you go in front of me." He took pity on me, but I didn't care. I needed to calm the baby, buy the booze, vanish from the daggers of the other customers who forgot what it was like to have or never had any children at all. I was desperate, so I took him up on that offer.

This man, from what I remember, was in his late 50s, wearing a pressed Polo shirt, a gold but not gaudy bracelet, with a kind, tan face. Unassumingly, he took his scotch and took his place in line behind me.  I tried to be as anonymous to everyone as possible until my transaction was completed, but he says to me "I remember when my kids were little. At one point, we had three kids under age four. My wife's personality changed completely because she was so exhausted all the time." He smiled, not bitter, but humorous, I could tell, remembering things that seemed like crises at the time, but really weren't. I'm sure that is how he deciphered my situation without judgement.

So, men like this exist? I asked myself. He is talking a good game now that his kids are probably off at college and he can enjoy that scotch in peace without his offspring hopping all over him - but was he as forgiving and empathetic in the thick of it - parenting, that is? Did he tell his wife "I understand why you hurled that pot roast at me as I pulled into the garage, the kids drove you nuts all day. Your form was good, honey, we'll work on your coping skills next week. I adore you, here are two dozen red roses I stopped to buy for you after I left work early to come home and give you a break. I know you appreciate the flowers, you don't have to say so, your stress-induced crossed-eyes and hair dripping with sweat tell me all I need to know. Good work today, babe. You kept the kids alive."

Whatever, it doesn't matter.  He knew what to say, when to say it, and he knows good scotch.

And he was a angel of the temporary sort - someone who made me feel like I was doing alright when I couldn't even come to my own defense.

Will my husband act like that one day - the sage who randomly shares his stories to make someone feel better, even though he is currently complaining about the fact that I didn't take out the trash, even though I did numerous non-obvious tasks throughout the day? I am still waiting for him to acknowledge my day-to-day life as a real occupation (do you know who much I relinquish in 401k alone? I'm sure it's way too much). 

My hubby may not be so lucid, calm or wise until the thick of this - parenting, that is - is over the hump, and until he is able to buy, and enjoy, expensive scotch.

But that's okay - as long as the favors are returned one day to someone who needs them.

The Angel at the wine store kept me from drinking the jumbo size gin right there on the spot, supplied a bigger picture of life as a parent, and may or may not have been as angelic to his own wife.

I was out of that store before I saw him buy the JWB. But I hope he really enjoyed the single malt he bought, I am certain it tasted better after paying it forward.

I have a secret.  I stalk single guys at the store. This is the reason; men left alone to shop for groceries and toiletries without the benefit and guidance of a mother, girlfriend or wife is some of the best, free comedic material available at any store in which single guys can be found (see below).

No disrespect, I simply believe that the inherent differences between the male and female of the species are amplified at the store - any store. Next time you see a group of single men shopping or a man waiting stoic outside the fitting rooms for the female in his life, you'll see what I mean. 

The male and female of the species are not the same, but who cares? That is what keeps it interesting, that is what makes things like monotonous trips to the store so much fun.

Let's break it down...

Who: "Bro's", fraternity brothers, room-mates, guys needing stuff before a big game, team-mates, husbands and boyfriends sent to the store by their women. (Look for jerseys, baseball hats with team logos, or listen for "Dude, the 12-pack, the 12 pack!")

Where: Costco, Target, Wal-Mart, Dollar & Under Stores, Sam's Club.

When: After the toilet paper and beer are gone. 

The next part represents what I have done my most extensive research on. I nonchalantly push my young child in the cart into the aisle where the single guys are debating over single or double-ply, and glance in their cart for a quick inventory of what they plan to purchase. As I appear to be reaching for Kiddie toilet wipes, I'm scanning their groceries and giggling internally.

What: 

• Beer (usually not imported)
• Toilet paper (if single-ply is chosen, then more rolls are usually purchased, negating the monetary savings, but making the male of the species feel more prepared)
• Frozen burritos
• Protein powder (ie: Muscle Milk)
• Gatorade/Bottled Water
• Salmon, if there is a culinary student among them or they read Men's Health recently
• Fresh fruit (I restrain myself from saying "Your Mom would be so proud!")
• Cheap laundry detergent
• Whole Milk
• Cereal (boxes of Trix hidden beneath Total and Special K, because they are still "kids", or so they are probably told by the female of the species)
• Bagel Bites
• Frozen pizza
• Sandwich bread (100% whole wheat more andmore often now, which is good)
• Pre-sliced lunch meats
• Jumbo size mayonnaise
• Captain Morgan's (because they buy into the advertising)
• Cleaning products (this applies to dollar stores mostly)

I have been observing the shopping habits of single males for years now, my husband even tips me off when they're in the store. "Honey, their cart looks pretty full. Give you 5 bucks if you can name most of the items."

I don't know if it's because I am married to one man and raising another, this fascination with the shopping savvy males of the species are forced to develop in different stages of their life. Maybe because I have seen how single males live on their own (my brother-in-law had a New York Jets bath mat push-pinned to the wall above his mattress in his first apartment. The horror.)

When I cart my son off to college (hopefully not more than ten minutes away), I am hoping for a miracle - that he rooms with tidy, sober, anxious to learn 18-year-olds who know how to clean grout. But who am I kidding?

At least then I'll have a reason to stalk single guys at grocery, wholesale and under a buck stores. That kid who I pushed in a shopping cart for years will be the one deciding on shredded beef or bean and cheese burritos, between Heineken or Bud, between single-ply or 2-ply.

And so it will be, I feel...my life will always be interesting. I haven't gotten bored yet, if I ever do, I'll just go shopping.

I am, after all, a female of the species.