Scallops

For the first, oh, 23 years of life I'd say I was pretty anti-fish. Oh sure, fishsticks and tuna fish sandwiches as a kid, but that stopped pretty early on; before I was a pre-teen (and old enough to learn about the plight of the dolphins). I finally grew up a little, and started working in NICE restaurants. Restaurants where I could not distract people with my humorous flair, but had to actually understand the dishes and the flavors and which wines might work well. It wasn't enough to say, "oh, I don't eat fish so I'm not sure" when someone asked me if the halibut was good. I needed to be able to talk about how it was prepared and how the flavors worked. And so, the first small, trepidatious bites at line up followed. Shortly thereafter, I allowed myself to be coaxed into sushi. Nevermind that it took a little liquid courage to get over my mental hangups, and that once I thought it about the next morning I literally made myself sick. What a pansy.
From there, I started eating sushi more regularly (though I'm still not all that adventurous - I know what I like and I pretty much stick to it), and having a couple of bites of a friend's fish at dinner. And then, scallops came into my life. I will never forget my first scallop. I was working at a restaurant in San Mateo and the chef made these amazing, tropical inspired scallops with flavors of mango and coconut and yummy, smooth, almost risotto like rice and WOW. I started ordering this dish on my own; not just to share a few bites. I think scallops are really what pushed me over the edge. Now, I no longer skip over the seafood section of a menu - I'll order up a yummy sounding piece of fish at a restaurant without thinking twice. Of course if I'm faced with super fishy fish or salmon, we're still in trouble. But that's because I don't like those things, not because I'm afraid of them.
In any case, my love for scallops led to me preparing them at home one night. They turned out wonderfully, yay! But, so I like seared scallops. Okay fine. How else can I make them that I'll still like them? Enter Ina Garten, of course. This woman is my hero. Left corporate life behind for a happy little food shop on the coast that she felt passionate about. A (seemingly) very happy marriage, and simple (yet successful) life. Yeah, she's not a size 2. But she eats well, and hey look everyone, she's HAPPY and in love with someone who loves her and they still have fun together and do sweet things (on tv anyway). Imagine that.
So thanks to Ina, for a tasty, artery clogging new to me way to prepare scallops.

Bay Scallop Gratin
(serves 6)
6 tbsp unsalted butter, at room temperature
6 large garlic cloves, minced
2 medium shallots, minced
2 oz thinly sliced prosciutto, minced
4 tbsp minced fresh parsley, plus extra for garnish
2 tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
2 tbsp Pernod - this is an anise flavored liqueur and I want to trust Ina, but eeeew, anise
2 tsps kosher salt
1 tsp freshly cracked black pepper
6 tbsp good olive oil
1/2 c panko
6 tbsp dry white wine (a little more than half a cup)
2 lbs fresh bay scallops (the little guys)
lemon, for garnish

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. Place 6 (6-inch round) gratin dishes on a sheet pan.

To make the topping, place the butter in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (you can also use a hand mixer). With the mixer on low speed, add the garlic, shallot, prosciutto, parsley, lemon juice, Pernod, salt, and pepper and mix until combined. With the mixer still on low, add the olive oil slowly as though making mayonnaise, until combined. Fold the panko in with a rubber spatula and set aside.

Place 1 tablespoon of the wine in the bottom of each gratin dish. With a small sharp knife, remove the white muscle and membrane from the side of each scallop and discard. Pat the scallops dry with paper towels and distribute them among the 3 dishes. Spoon the garlic butter evenly over the top of the scallops. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the topping is golden and sizzling and the scallops are barely done. If you want the top crustier, place the dishes under the broiler for 2 minutes, until browned. Finish with a squeeze of fresh lemon juice and a sprinkling of chopped parsley and serve immediately with crusty French bread.

Calamari Noodles

Okay, if you know me, you might be surprised that I'm posting a calamari recipe because I don't love the squids. Fishy, rubbery oddness. But, for those of you that DO like snackin' the kracken (I'm not sorry for that), I thought this was a great twist on the standard rings and I love how they spiral into cute little curls!! (that one wasn't on purpose) Oddly enough, it came from Anne Burrell, whose show I don't really care for.

Calamari "Noodles" with Black Olives and Arugula
3/4 pound clean calamari, tubes and tentacles (or only tubes, if you prefer)
Extra-virgin olive oil
3 to 4 cloves garlic, smashed, plus 1 for rubbing bread
Pinch crushed red pepper flakes
Salt
1 cup dry white wine
1/4 cup kalamata or gaeta olives, slivered
4 slices rustic Italian bread
2 cups washed baby arugula
2 tablespoons chopped chives, for garnish

Cut each calamari tube in strips lengthwise that are about 1/4-inch wide. If using the tentacles, cut in segments.

Coat a large saute pan generously with olive oil. Add the smashed garlic cloves and crushed red pepper and bring to a high heat. When the garlic is golden brown and very aromatic remove the garlic and discard. Carefully add the calamari and quickly toss or stir in the hot oil. Season with salt and saute for 1 to 2 minutes or until the calamari turn from translucent to opaque. Add the wine and the olives and cook until the wine has reduced by about half. Taste to see if the seasoning is correct.

While the calamari is cooking, toast or grill the bread. Rub the bread with the remaining garlic clove and drizzle generously with olive oil.

Divide the arugula between 4 serving bowls. Spoon the calamari and juices over the greens. Cut each piece of bread in half on the bias and arrange on the calamari. Garnish with chives and serve.