Curried Shrimp Dip

 Curried Shrimp Dip 

Classic 50s Recipe & Update

 

Although the 50s version — from the Ladies Home Journal — is very good, the update with fresh Stonington Shrimp is even more decadent and delicious. “This is insane,” as one guest put it. The Stonington Shrimp are bright red even when raw and look beautiful, too.

Both versions take less than 10 minutes to make, and can and indeed should be made the day before the party. And yes, this is fattening. As a friend who read an earlier version of this cookbook said,

“Not everything needs to be so healthy.”

 

Painting by Laura Heyward.                  Lauraheyward.com

 

the update

3/4 to 1 pound fresh raw shrimp in their shells, enough for 1 cup after you’ve shelled and deveined them

1/2 pound full-fat cream cheese

1/2 cup full-fat sour cream 

1/4 cup Major Grey’s chutney — the more mangos and the less sugar, the better

2 plump cloves of fresh garlic, peeled

1 tablespoon curry powder (I use Rani’s mild)

Optional: more fresh shrimp for garnish

 

Big, sturdy potato chips (our local Big Y makes its own “supersized” chips and they work perfectly, but any chip big enough for lots of dip works —how bad can a potato chip be?) 

pot to boil water, colander, Cusinard

glass container with tight fitting top

 

1. Put one peeled garlic clove into a pot large enough to hold the shrimp, fill it with cold water, and bring to a boil.

2. Add the unpeeled shrimp to the boiling water, and when the grey parts turn white, tumble everything into a colander. Give it a good shake and run cold water over it (this crisps the shrimp). Give the colander another good shake and let the shrimp cool.

3. Blend the cream cheese, the other garlic clove, and the sour cream in the Cusinard — you will need to stop it and scrape the bowl a few times if you didn’t soften the cream cheese. Add the curry powder and blend.

4. When it’s all mixed, pulse everything with the chutney. If your chutney is chunky, you can leave some of it in little pieces.  When it’s evenly mixed (smoothly or with some little pieces of chutney), scrape it into the container with the tight-fitting top. You can pause here, or finish up.

5. Peel and devein the shrimp, cut them by hand into small pieces, and stir into the curry mixture by hand — you want the shrimp to stay in distinct pieces. 

 

do ahead notes: This is best made the day before and refrigerated until ready to serve.

 

 

 

 

 

the  1950s version

1 cup drained canned shrimp

1/2 pound cream cheese, softened

1 tablespoon curry powder

1/4 tsp. garlic powder

1/4 cup Major Grey’s chutney, finely chopped  into small pieces with a sharp knife

1/2 cup sour cream

Optional garnish: 2 tablespoons fresh shrimp, chopped or left whole

 

1. Drain the canned shrimp. You should have one cup.

2. Cream the cheese with the back of a wooden spoon, then cream in the sour cream, curry powder, and garlic powder. Stir in the finely-chopped chutney.

3. Stir in the shrimp, cover tightly, and refrigerate until ready to serve.

 

cocktail parties then and now

My father worked in advertising in the 1950s and 1960s. He and his friends were witty and light-hearted, not at all like the dark, driven characters on Mad Men. One friend, a copywriter for J.Walter Thomson, later became a famous playwright. But he remained fond of a line (never used) that he wrote for a bra ad: “Upsa daisy!”

My parents and their friends did have a lot of cocktail parties, though. Most children then began weekend mornings playing or watching cartoons before their parents got up — an unsupervised time many of us remember with fondness. The day after a party, my siblings and I went first to the morning-after confusion of the living room.

We started with the Swedish modern platter holding a few Fritos and the little glass dish of this shrimp dip somewhere on it (never exactly in the middle as it had been at the beginning of the party). Then we’d have the watery remains of the drinks with cherries, never any with the olives. In my memory of those mornings, the living room is sunny and the clear elegant cocktail glasses — especially the martini glasses — shine. 

During the party itself, we stayed upstairs. Only when we were older did we pass hors d’oeurves or — by the late 1960s — attend them as semi-adults. And that was a different time, too. I remember one party then given by a friend’s parents.

“Sylvia, would you like to meet the Governor?” the hostess said, bringing a man over.

“Who the hell wants to meet the Governor?” Sylvia said loudly, turning her back.

This was the same year the Dean at another friend’s college danced topless at a faculty cocktail party. Later, when my friend complained about her room-mate this same Dean said:

“If the marijuana smoke bothers you, open the window.”

My friends and I never went in much for cocktail parties. When I make this dip now, it’s as a first course for a dinner party. The parties are probably staider than those of the 50s and 60s, but the dip is definitely better.

And please don’t serve it with raw vegetables. It needs the salty crispiness of potato chips. Much as I want to believe the label that began, “While potato chips aren’t exactly a health food, you might be surprised at how good for you they actually are,” I don’t. This is definitely party food— a special treat for your guests and you, too.