We’re chiming in from the beach this week, but before you start perusing our few vacation pictures and getting jealous over what seems like the picture perfect family vacation, let me just tell you this: we booked a week long vacation in a beautiful two bedroom beach house with a huge granite-clad kitchen, hard wood floors that were pristinely clean and baby gak-free (ohmygawd yes!), was surprisingly and wonderfully wicker-free, and came complete with an adorable front yard hammock swing for two during the week that was 1. muy caliente, similar to what I imagine a cayenne pepper dry rub on your tongue would feel like, except not just contained to the mouthal region. 2. Raining, raining, and raining as predicted for the only week we’d be hoping to catch some rays instead of thunderstorms and a few random doses of lighting and down pours keeping us permanently sealed up inside. 3. Came directly after the week that everything went wrong, including our AC crumbling into shambles 18-hours prior to leaving, and 4. A dramatic teething epicenter after my 7-month old decided to unexpectedly without warning suddenly grow and pop out his first two itty bitty teef which carried along the associated grumpiness that accompanies such endeavors. I mean, really. I hate to sound like the world’s biggest complainer here, but is it just me or does anyone else feel like their life seems to turn completely upside down as if you, your world and all its contents were baton twirled in a rain stick at the most inopportune moments.

I promise, though, not to complain, or even mention the staggering list of negatives. Regardless of everything, we are having ourselves one of the best, relaxing, fun vacations we could have. The sun has popped out on a few occasions letting us take baby to the beach where he’s experienced everything from naps in salty ocean breezes, to face planting in hot sand with a full tasting menu of all its glorious grit, to the feeling of cool ocean waves lapping at toes and baby rolls. A sand castle was even attempted, though quickly ditched as the heat wave we tried so desperately to escape never let us out of its grasp and ran us right back inside. We’ve even managed to have a few beautiful sunsets as I seem to be the typical woman and drag my husband across islands to see which spot gives me, err, us the best viewing advantage of this daily occurrence. He never gets annoyed — I’m so lucky.

Did I mention we even got a chance to see some wild Spanish war horses roam the beach at dusk? I mean, how could one possibly complain when they can see sunsets simultaneously paired with wild stallions (or mamas with their itty bitty colts, oh yes we did). This is what romance novels are made of, or at least it’s my best guess from the trashy covers I see stacked in our slowly decaying bookstores. I guess you could say this vacation is after all a picture perfect one. I’ve even managed to break my standard, writ in stone, chastity belted rules about vacation. Chores (read: I will not do). A special, hatred laced no is shouted in the direction of 1. dishes and 2. laundry, both of which have been gleefully broken this week.

First of all, this kitchen has so much light it was impossible for my inner struggling photographer to deny itself the chance to take some well lit food photos. I just couldn’t pass it up, nor could I pass up the straight from the sea seafood markets lining the roads in these beach parts. Cheaper than what I can find at home with unparallelled freshness, seriously, how could I say no. That’s right, I didn’t. It was a quick dinner, one that was inspired from a Martha Stewart article I read in a magazine ages ago, when I had time to read and do cool things other than administer teething tablets and cool wash cloths to feverish foreheads. She did this shrimp-split technique (which I think is positively genius) that causes the shrimp to twist up into little curls and gives the illusion that there is twice as much. Win, win and winning right there.

It’s of course impossible to trick me on such matters because not only am I the cook, but I’m always under the impression that you can never have enough seafood on your seafood platter. It’s just the way I’m programmed I guess, so I heedlessly ignored the idea of a smaller portion of shrimp and stuck a whole bunch in. However, if you think your family wouldn’t notice, or would be satisfied with what I’m assuming is a modest and more appropriate ratio of shrimp to pasta, by all means halve the amount. Luckily for my rules, the dishes required amount to three (stock pot, skillet and wooden spoon) and, as always, our fancy dinnerware is Dixie, or whatever fancy paper plate design struck our fancy as we refuse to do more than we have too in way of clean up. As for the laundry, well, let’s just say I’m not about to do it when I get home as I plan on relaxing from relaxing. Let’s not shatter that plan, okay?

Spaghetti with Shrimp, Bacon and Scallions

Notes: I used fresh shrimp as it is widely available here, but if you have frozen on hand I don’t see why it wouldn’t work just as well. I would go for uncooked frozen shrimp if possible and if using frozen it should be completely thawed before use.

Serves 4

12 ounces spaghetti, roughly about 3/4 of a box
6 slices bacon, cut into 1/4-inch lardons
1 pound large, peeled and deveined shrimp
1 bunch scallions, roughly 6 or 7, white and green parts thinly sliced
3 garlic cloves, minced
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Using a pairing knife split shrimp in half horizontally. If you buy your shrimp already peeled and deveined you will notice an indentation running down the spine of your shrimp. Cut along this line until you have two separate half-moon shaped pieces of shrimp.

In a large stock pot placed over medium heat bring 4 quarts of salted water to a boil. Cook pasta until al dente. Reserve about 1/2-cup of pasta water then drain pasta and return pasta to pot.

While pasta is cooking, place bacon in cold skillet and then turn heat to medium. Cook bacon until crisp and browned. Using a slotted spoon transfer bacon pieces to a paper towel lined plate to drain. Add shrimp halves, scallions (reserving a small handful for garnish) and garlic to skillet with the bacon fat (do not drain off the fat from the skillet). Cook, stirring frequently, until shrimp just begin to turn pink, about 1 to 2 minutes. Add 1/4 cup pasta water to skillet and bring to a boil. Cook shrimp until pink and shrimp begin to curl, about 1 to 2 minutes.

Add shrimp mixture along with any leftover liquid, lemon juice and bacon to drained pasta. Season with salt and pepper and toss to combine. Garnish with leftover scallions and serve immediately.