The Life of the Party

Every dish has a life of its own, beginning with a hope and ending in a sometimes related reality. In between, as in all lives, you just kind of make it up as you go along.

Visiting the Saturday farmers’ market in Torrance a couple of weeks ago with a friend from out of town, we saw some little head-on ridgeback shrimp from Santa Barbara for sale at the Dry Dock stand.

The ridgeback shrimp is not as visually impressive as its larger, flashier neighbor, the Santa Barbara spot prawn, which is several times as big and often comes with its legs thickly coated with bright orange roe. But ridgies have at least one major advantage over spots: Unless spots are handled just right, they go very mushy very quickly. There’s an enzyme in the head section that begins to diffuse through the rest of the body as soon as the shrimp dies.

Moral: Either buy live spot prawns or buy ones that have been beheaded.

This is not to say that ridgeback shrimps don’t have their own shortcomings. These don’t have to do with eating, though, but with cooking. Their shell is thicker and stiffer than other shrimp, which makes them a chore to peel.

And maybe my fingers aren’t what they should be, but I think the shells are also sharper than other shrimps’. After peeling ridgies, my fingers usually are covered with little nicks and gouges--always fun when you run into a bit of salt or a little lemon juice. Still, the flesh is so sweet, this doesn’t seem to affect how often I cook them.

My friend had never tasted these shrimp (they don’t turn up often at restaurants, no doubt for the above reason), and she was dying to try them. So we picked up a couple of pounds. On the way home, we began to talk about what we could do with them.

“There’s nothing wrong with just butter and garlic,” she said.

I was thinking about serving them with pasta in a little tomato and crushed red pepper; that was how I had them one time in the Italian region of Liguria, where the local gambero rosso seems very similar to our little ridgebacks.

“Maybe some kind of stew,” she said.

“How about if we do a butter, garlic and white wine thing and then serve them in the bottom of a bowl lined with toasted bread to sop up the juice, like mussels,” I said, stuck in a starch-and-shrimp state of mind.

Then I thought about a dish I’d had the night before at Alain Giraud’s Lavande restaurant in Santa Monica--a brilliant stew of cuttlefish and potato in a barely thickened sauce. The contrast in textures between the softness of the potato and the slight rubberiness of the cuttlefish was fantastic.

“That would be perfect,” she agreed.

The only problem was that I hadn’t bought any potatoes.

“What about those beans?” she asked.

Bingo! Off to the side at one farmer’s stand I had noticed some of this year’s first dried pinquito and pinto beans in a bin. A little snooping turned up half a dozen other types of dried beans stacked in boxes beneath them. Among them was something I thought must be a joke, a mauve runner. I know scarlet runners well: I’ve grown them in my backyard. But mauve? The idea seemed so funny I had to try some.

Originally I’d intended to serve the beans with a leg of lamb, but this idea seemed much more promising. The only problem was how to combine the beans, which cook for hours, with the shrimp, which cook in minutes. Obviously, they couldn’t be cooked together, but what about making a stock of the shrimp shells and cooking the beans in that, then sauteing the shelled shrimp and combining everything at the last minute?

At first that seemed like a good idea, but the more I thought about it, the less I liked it. Something about joining the sweetness of the shrimp stock and the beans, which have a kind of earthy bitterness, just didn’t sound right. Instead, I thought I would use the shrimp stock to lightly bind the beans and shellfish after they’d been cooked separately.

So I cooked the beans and peeled the shrimp. The beans took a little longer than I’d expected and absorbed quite a bit more liquid. I had to keep adding boiling water to keep them from drying out. In the end, I learned that mauve runners are a lot like scarlet runners, only a lot more so. They’re bigger--the size of a lima bean--and they have a stronger chestnut flavor.

The shrimp--after much cursing and complaining during peeling--ended up needing a little extra work too. Normally I don’t bother deveining shrimp. As long as the sand vein is small, it’s merely cosmetic. But in about half of these guys, it was huge.

Still, removing the vein isn’t that much of a problem. The easiest way is to lay a sharp knife flat on a work surface and then, holding the handle down with one hand, run the back of the shrimp against the cutting edge with the other (using a kind of rotating motion, necessarily). The vein is just under the skin and doing it this way helps you avoid cutting too deeply. Once the vein is exposed, you can pull it out with your fingers. A quick rinse in cold water gets the last of it.

While the beans were cooking, I made shrimp stock by boiling the shells with water to cover for about 45 minutes. That tasted a little thin, so I added some chopped vegetables. That still didn’t fix it. So I added some white wine. Finally, some chopped parsley stems gave the stock the finish it needed.

When it came time to eat, I sauteed the shrimp over high heat in a little butter, then added some very coarsely chopped tomato. When the tomato began to soften, I added some of the drained beans. It turned out that the carefully made shrimp broth wasn’t necessary at all; the shrimp and the tomatoes themselves gave off enough moisture to bind the stew.

I started out adding just enough basil to give it an accent, but when I tasted the dish, the basil was so good I added some more. And then some more. Not only did it complement the tomatoes, as planned, it somehow provided a bridge among the three flavors and added an herbal snap all its own.

Most important, it passed my ultimate dinner party test. As people began to taste it, conversation gradually came to a stop for a couple of minutes while everyone ate, only to pick up even louder and happier afterward.

Just the way I planned it, you understand.

STEW OF SHRIMP AND RUNNER BEANS

You probably won’t be able to find mauve runner beans unless you shop at the Torrance farmers’ market. Don’t let that stop you from trying this dish. Any dried bean can be substituted, preferably those with nuttier flavors--runner beans, chestnut beans, black beans, etc. In a pinch, it would even be good with pintos.

If you want, make stock by combining the shrimp heads and shells, 1 onion, 2 cloves garlic, 1 cup white wine and water to cover in large pot and simmering 1 hour. Season to taste with salt and freeze for future use.

3 pounds head-on shrimp (2 pounds head-off, 1 3/4 pounds cooked, peeled)

2 tablespoons minced garlic

1 tablespoon olive oil

Salt

1/2 pound dried mauve runner beans or other dried beans

4 cups water

1 dried chipotle chile

2 tablespoons butter

1 pound plum tomatoes, peeled, seeded, very coarsely chopped

Freshly ground black pepper

2/3 cup lightly packed torn basil leaves

Remove heads from shrimp, peel and, if necessary, remove black sandy vein in back. Place shrimp in plastic bag with 1 teaspoon minced garlic, olive oil and 1/4 teaspoon salt. Mix well, seal tightly and refrigerate at least 1 hour.

In medium pot, combine beans, water, chipotle, 1 teaspoon salt and 1 tablespoon minced garlic. Bring to boil on top of stove, cover tightly and bake at 350 degrees until tender, about 1 1/2 hours. Check from time to time to make sure water has not evaporated.

When almost ready to serve, drain beans (reserving liquid, if desired, to use in soups). Heat butter and remaining 2 teaspoons minced garlic in large skillet. When garlic is fragrant, add shrimp and cook until opaque, about 2 minutes. Remove to bowl with slotted spoon, add tomatoes and cook, stirring, until they soften, about 2 minutes. If there is much liquid in bottom of pan, boil quickly to reduce juices.

Return shrimp to pan. Add beans and heat through, about 3 minutes. Remove from heat, season to taste with salt and pepper and stir in basil. Serve immediately.

8 appetizer or 6 main-course servings. Each appetizer serving contains:

149 calories; 522 mg sodium; 174 mg cholesterol; 6 grams fat; 6 grams carbohydrates; 19 grams protein; 0.71 gram fiber.