I got this recipe from the divine Vicki at Eschaton.
1# shrimp, deveined, with tails intact
1 T chopped, fresh ginger (1 t ground ginger works, too)
1/4 t red pepper flakes
2 T finely chopped parsley (2 t dried parsley is okay)
1 bay leaf
1/4 teason thyme
2 T olive oil
Juice of half a lemon
salt and pepper, to taste
Combine the marinade ingredients and mix well. Marinate the shrimp at room temperature for a half an hour.
6 T butter, combined with one crushed clove of garlic.
Broil, saute, or grill the shrimp for a minute or two. Turn them over, and cook for 2 - 3 additional minutes.
For the last two months of her pregnancy, my brilliant DiL was on bed rest. On Saturdays, I'd cook up storm: a pot of vegetable pistou or of chicken, sweet potato, and wild rice soup, a roast chicken, collards, corn bread, tapioca pudding, spanikopita, stuffed peppers, walnut bars, berry salad with sugared ricotta dressing, blood oranges, grapefruit, pomegranate, and kiwi in honey, whatever I could cook up so that she'd stay off her feet. Someone, her doctor or childbirth coach or doula -- I forget who -- advised DiL to eat as much protein as possible, and so I made this shrimp recipe several times; Son and DiL both like shrimp and it's pretty much protein.
So, tomorrow is G/Son's third B/Day party. DiL has about 30 people, most of them three years of age or younger, coming over to her lovely, warm, inviting home. I cooked up four pounds of ginger shrimp, remembering those cold, scary months when we all worked every kind of magic that we could work to get G/Son safely here. And, I did that v odd magic that I've been doing for almost 20 years, I sent magic back to my scared self in 2006, standing at the counter chopping ginger and garlic, squeezing lemons, melting butter. I tell myself: It will turn out better than you can imagine. You can do this. Hang in there. It will be ok. And, back in 2006, I use and depend upon that magic.
I'm a woman, a Witch, a mother, a grandmother, an eco-feminist, a gardener, a reader, a writer, and a priestess of the Great Mother Earth. Hecate appears in the
Homeric Ode to Demeter, which tells of Hades who caught Persophone
"up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. . . . But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave . . . ."