Our well ran out of water this week.
Not low.
Dry.
For the first day or two, I caught myself reaching for the faucet without thinking. My hand would turn the handle before my mind remembered there was nothing waiting on the other side. Laundry stayed in the basket. Dishes lingered in the sink. Then I realized I'd begun negotiating with the smallest parts of my day. Brushing my teeth. Flushing the toilet. Washing my face before bed. Things I'd done thousands of times without a second thought suddenly required a decision.
I never realized how many decisions water had been making for me until it stopped making them.
What surprised me wasn't the inconvenience. It was how completely I had stopped seeing something that had faithfully carried me through every day of my life. It never asked to be appreciated. I simply assumed it would always be there because it always had been.
Water was never the center of my day until it wasn't.
That thought stayed with me long after the faucets began working again because I realized it wasn't really about water at all.
When it finally came back, I expected relief.
Instead, it changed the way I reached for it.
I knew exactly how much it took to flush a toilet. I caught myself turning the faucet off while I brushed my teeth. Then I'd turn it back on again and let it run across my hands a little longer than necessary. Not because I needed the water.
Because I found myself looking at something I'd stopped seeing years ago. The well hadn't changed the water. It had changed me.
That's when I began wondering what else had become so familiar that I'd stopped seeing it.
The people I love.
The routines that shape my days.
All the familiar things I'd stopped seeing because they'd never asked me to imagine life without them.
Our lives are shaped by things we rarely think to celebrate.
The cup of coffee already waiting when you walk into the kitchen. The familiar sound of someone else's footsteps in the hall. A text that simply says, "Made it home." Hands you've reached for so many times you forget what a privilege it is that they're still reaching back.
None of those moments ask for applause.
Perhaps that's why they're so easy to overlook.
We mistake today's faithfulness for tomorrow's permanence. We begin believing there will always be another conversation, another shared meal, another opportunity to say the things we've convinced ourselves can wait until tomorrow.
Until one day they can't.
Perhaps that's what enough looks like.
Nothing about the water had changed.
Only the woman turning on the faucet.
Shrimp Scampi with Pearl Couscous & Lemon Herb Gremolata
Serves 4 to 6
Some recipes have earned the right to stay simple. Shrimp scampi is one of them. Butter, garlic, white wine, and lemon have been making shrimp taste extraordinary for generations. Pearl couscous gives the silky sauce something hearty to cling to, while a fresh lemon herb gremolata scattered over the top adds just enough brightness to make the whole dish unforgettable.
INGREDIENTS
Lemon Herb Gremolata
- ½ cup finely chopped flat leaf parsley
- ¼ cup finely chopped fresh basil
- 2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh chives
- 1 tablespoon finely grated lemon zest
- 1 small garlic clove, finely grated
- 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
- ¼ teaspoon flaky sea salt
- ¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Shrimp Scampi
- 2 cups pearl (Israeli) couscous
- 1½ pounds large shrimp, peeled and deveined
- Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
- 3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
- 8 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
- 1 large shallot, finely minced
- 5 garlic cloves, minced
- ¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
- ¾ cup dry white wine
- ⅓ cup chicken stock
- Juice of 1 large lemon
INSTRUCTIONS
- Cook pearl couscous in generously salted water according to package directions until tender. Drain well and set aside.
- Meanwhile, combine all the gremolata ingredients in a small bowl. Stir to combine and set aside.
- Pat the shrimp dry and season lightly with salt and pepper.
- Heat olive oil and 2 tablespoons butter in a large skillet over medium high heat. Add shrimp in a single layer and cook for about 1½ to 2 minutes per side, just until opaque. Transfer to a plate.
- Reduce heat to medium. Add 4 tablespoons butter to the skillet. Stir in the shallot and cook until softened, about 3 minutes. Add the garlic and crushed red pepper flakes and cook for 30 seconds, just until fragrant.
- Pour in the white wine and chicken stock. Simmer until reduced by about one third, 3 to 4 minutes.
- Stir in the lemon juice.
- Add the cooked couscous and toss until every pearl is coated in the buttery sauce.
- Return the shrimp and any accumulated juices to the skillet. Toss gently just until heated through.
- Remove the skillet from the heat and stir in the remaining 2 tablespoon of cold butter until melted and glossy.
- Transfer to a serving platter and spoon the lemon herb gremolata over the top. Finish with grated parmesan cheese if desired.
- Serve immediately with warm crusty bread for soaking up the sauce.
STORAGE
Refrigerate: Store in an airtight container for up to 2 days.
Freeze: Not recommended, as the shrimp can become rubbery and the butter sauce may separate.
Reheat: Warm gently in a skillet over low heat with a splash of chicken stock or white wine and a squeeze of fresh lemon juice.