Tuesday, February 26, 2013
I've liked scallops for as long as I can remember. When I was little, my dad would make the smaller bay scallops, cooked in a scampi style with butter and garlic and served over rice. I developed quite a taste for them at a young age, which is funny, looking back--how many kids who don't live in France shovel in mouthfuls of scallops soaked in butter and wine?
I thought the little ones were special enough, but when I got older and was introduced to the majestic sea scallop, the bay scallop's bigger and more elegant cousin, I wondered why I'd been deprived for so long.
These days, I don't cook scallops too often, and not just because they are expensive. They're rich, and, I suspect, not too good for you. But here's the funny thing: we've got a little scallop luck at our local market. Two times in a row now, the husband has gone to pick up a few scallops. The first time, we were doing surf 'n' turf and so only needed four scallops to go alongside our steak. The butcher gave him six--then charged the wrong price by half.
The second time, the scallops were the main event. The husband asked for 8. Once again, the butcher--a different one this time around--gave him more--10!--at half the price.
(Although a scallop lover, I do not need to eat five. And so, as you might guess, Sophie, the farm dog from Idaho, got her first taste of scallops that evening. Her eyes transformed into spinning scallops and have not stopped since.)
While for the moment we are scalloped out, I wanted to share this unusual recipe, courtesy of Dorie Greenspan, so that you too might indulge your scallop love. It's from her French book and is called Monkfish with Double Carrots.
"Hey, dummy, monkfish isn't another name for scallops," you're saying. Totally. I actually know that. But, monkfish isn't available in my market--or maybe even in California. I have no idea. I just know I never see it. Dorie suggested a few other options, including scallops.
This is a lovely recipe, super simple but deceptively refined. The rosemary adds an herby dimension to keep the carrots from being too sweet but the real star (besides the scallops) is the bacon. As you know, bacon and scallops are the savory equivalent of chocolate and peanut butter. I couldn't find plain carrot juice so I used carrot-orange and I think Dorie would agree no harm was done.