Plump and Tender Shrimp Cocktail

I'm not ashamed to admit my guilty pleasures. I enjoy listening to mainstream pop, I'm just as happy on a beach with a margarita as I am in a great museum, and I absolutely adore shrimp cocktail. There may be no other dish in the world that makes me more giddy than plain old poached shrimp dipped in horseradish-spiked ketchup. I even like the really crappy supermarket kind, sold in those round plastic trays lined with pitiful rows of strangely translucent little cooked shrimp.

Shrimp cocktail may not have the adult sophistication of raw oysters or chilled lobster, and it's not an acquired taste, like sea urchin. Nope, shrimp cocktail is easy, accessible, and so commonplace, it's practically passé. And that's exactly why I love it so much. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try to make the best shrimp cocktail we possibly can. And frankly, given how easy it is, there's really no excuse not to put just a little extra effort in.

Big Flavor, Little Shrimp

Let's start with the main event: the shrimp.

Juicy, plump, flavorful shrimp. That's all we really want from the shrimp in our shrimp cocktail, and it's not asking much. I prefer larger shrimp in mine. In the seafood industry, they're categorized by the number of shrimp per pound, and, in this case, I want at least 26/30s (26 to 30 shrimp to the pound), or preferably even larger ones, like 16/20s, if possible. Still, I won't turn away a shrimp cocktail made with smaller ones, and the method I'm giving here works with all sizes.

As for deveining the shrimp, I'm on the fence. For whatever reason, with shrimp cocktail, I prefer the shrimp to not be split down the back, but if the veins are dark, I'll do it. (Though I've also found shrimp are often easy to devein without splitting the backs—you can just use tweezers to grab the vein where it sticks out at the head of the shrimp and pull it out.)

There are a couple key steps for the very best poached shrimp that break with more traditional cooking methods:

• First, dry-brine the shrimp in a combination of baking soda and salt, which delivers shrimp with extra-plump texture.
• Next, poach the shrimp in a simple mixture of water and citrus juice until they're cooked through, starting cold and bringing the temperature gradually up to no more than 150°F. By starting cold and not exceeding 150°F, instead of dropping them into boiling liquid, you get the plumpest, most tender shrimp from edge to edge.
• Infuse flavor into the shrimp with a court bouillon (aromatic broth).

The most important question for me was the poaching medium itself. In some recipes, it's not really worth making a full-on court bouillon to poach the shrimp. If they the cooked shrimp are going to be dressed in a flavorful sauce, such as in a mayo-rich shrimp salad, you won't really taste the effect of the poaching broth. I wanted to find out if a court bouillon might actually be worth it for shrimp cocktail, where the shrimp are served much more plainly.

I prepared several batches of my own poached shrimp, using the dry brine and the cold-start cooking method, testing a true court bouillon against just water and citrus juice, as well as comparing shrimp cooked shell-on and shelled.

I found that the shrimp cooked in a court bouillon were more flavorful than those cooked in just water and citrus, and that flavor held even after they were dipped in cocktail sauce. In the case of shrimp cocktail, a court bouillon is your best bet.

I also found that shrimp poached shell-on in a court bouillon absorb less flavor than shelled ones, so you're going to want to shell your shrimp here before you cook them. Still, the shells have flavor, and we can use them to make the court bouillon even more rich.

Shrimp Cocktail, Step by Step

We start by making the court bouillon, a lightly acidic and aromatic stock. I flavor mine with diced celery, onion, and fennel, along with sprigs of fresh herbs, like parsley and tarragon. There's some flexibility here: It's fine if you don't have fennel, or if you want to add some leeks either in addition to or in place of the onion. The key is just to have a fresh-tasting, aromatic broth; the exact ingredients aren't set in stone. I like to add some sliced peeled ginger as well, since it has a way of perking up shellfish with a subtle hit of zestiness.

Then I add dry white wine (don't worry too much about what type, as long as it isn't sweet) for flavor and acidity, as well as some freshly squeezed lemon juice.

We've peeled the shrimp, but there's no reason not to capture some of their flavor in the broth as well, so in go the shrimp shells!

I bring the whole thing to a simmer for about 20 minutes—just long enough to extract flavor from the aromatics and shrimp shells, but not so long that everything loses its freshness. Then I strain out the solids and add cold water to quickly cool the broth down.

Next, I grab the shrimp, which have been sitting in the refrigerator with their dusting of salt and baking soda, and add them to the broth. The shrimp are then gently brought up to temperature in the borth, being careful not to let the liquid go much over 150°F, which is the perfect temperature to cook them without overcooking them.

As soon as the shrimp are pink, it's time to take them out, spread them on a rimmed baking sheet and chill them as quickly as possible. As soon as they're cool, you can transfer them to an airtight container to chill further without risk of them drying out.

The Sauce

For my cocktail sauce, I keep things relatively simple: I mix ketchup with preserved horseradish, along with some fresh lemon juice, black pepper, and salt. If I'm being fancy, I'll also add a little ground coriander seed and granulated garlic, but those are totally optional, as are any other flavorings you can think up. For the horseradish, the store-bought jarred stuff works well, but if you're up to making a homemade batch with fresh horseradish root, that's even better.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be on a beach, listening to Katy Perry and finishing off this plate of shrimp cocktail. Don't judge.