There are two periods in my life that I think of as critical to my learning to cook. The first was when I was studying abroad in London. I think I have told you about this before, and if not, I’m sure you can just wait a week and I’ll tell you again as if it’s brand-new information.*

The second period in my learning-to-cook-dinner process came when I moved with Dave to Montreal after graduation. Only having a six month work visa and speaking no French, I was basically unemployable. I eventually managed to scrounge some jobs together, but I was still under-employed, so I started cooking to take up the time and feel productive and not crazy.

In London I cooked because I didn’t have money to eat out and because I was falling in love. In Montreal, I cooked to feel productive, and cooking became my ticket to the city— the thing that brought me to new markets, that took me to the bakeries and cheese shops.

This dish I first made when my boss at the English-language theater hosted a pot-luck at his house. I wanted to make something that could travel easily, wouldn’t need to stay piping hot (since it was winter in Montreal**), and fit my limited skill set. It also included a day-filling trip to the fish market at Jean Talon.

I made it again a few weeks ago, and instead of the big fat shrimp that I bought in Montreal, I used fresh Maine shrimp. Maine shrimp are teeny tiny and so bright pink it seems like they must be dyed. They cook up in the time it takes for you to turn your head away from the skillet and back.

Otherwise, sauteeing the fennel mellows the flavor dramatically and even though I generally don’t particularly like sundried tomatoes, they’re nice here.

In fact, the whole dish was really nice— I’m not sure why I don’t make it more often.

Shrimp with Fennel, Dill, and Feta

from Bon Appetit, November 2004

• 1/2 cup sliced oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes, 2 tablespoons oil reserved
• 2 medium fennel bulbs, trimmed, halved, thinly sliced crosswise
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 1/3 pounds uncooked large shrimp, peeled, deveined, tails left intact
• 2 tablespoons chopped fresh dill
• 2/3 cup crumbled feta cheese (You may be considering buying the cheap feta that’s pre-crumbled. I strongly recommend not doing so— I can tell you from experience that the cheap pre-crumbled feta doesn’t really taste like anything.)

* The difference between me and someone’s grandmother who constantly tells the same stories over and over is probably just a matter of years, not behavior.

** Winter in Montreal makes winter in Maine seem like puppies and daffodils.