Cue the Oohs and Ahhs: Why I Keep Coming Back to This Pasta

So, I need to get this off my chest: I’m not really the person you call for a fancy dinner party (unless sweatpants count as dress code), but this Marry Me Shrimp Pasta has gotten me more compliments than my actual engagement story. True fact, the first time I made it, the sauce went everywhere—like, I actually had to mop. But the taste? My neighbor (you know, the one who returns Tupperware five months late… she came back for seconds). I can see why people say you’ll get a proposal after cooking it. Not that I’m promising anything! Just, y’know, be prepared for declarations of love—or at least happy forks clinking.

Why You’ll Get Hooked (And Why My Family Did)

I make this when it’s been a day, y’know? When work emails have piled up, or when it’s raining sideways and you need dinner that feels like a hug. My family goes bananas for this because it feels kind of fancy, but honestly—takes less time than deciding what to binge-watch. The creamy, garlicky-tomato sauce just makes the shrimp and pasta pop; it’s one of those All-In-One-Pan wonders (although, okay, I do still manage to dirty a few extra spatulas, but that’s a me problem).

If you’re iffy on seafood, don’t worry—this isn’t one of those stinky-shrimp situations. And if you ever forgot to thaw the shrimp? (Yeah, me too) It still works. Just takes a smidge longer, and maybe the sauce splatters a bit more.

What You’ll Need (and My Cop-Outs and Swaps)

340g (12 oz) fettuccine or linguine (honestly, spaghetti works in a pinch, and once I even used penne)
500g (about 1 lb) raw shrimp, peeled & deveined (personally I buy the frozen kind, but my uncle swears by fresh…)
2 big cloves garlic, minced (I sometimes use the jar stuff if I’m lazy; don’t judge)
1/2 cup sun-dried tomatoes, sliced thin (oil-packed is my go-to, but those dry ones from the bag also work if you soak ’em)
1 cup heavy cream (have used half-and-half or even Greek yogurt once – thinner, but still yum!)
1/2 cup chicken broth (vegetable works; or I’ve been known to just use hot pasta water if I’m out…shh)
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan (bagged is fine too, but don’t tell any Italians—seriously, they find out EVERYTHING)
1 tbsp olive oil (or a big knob of butter if you’re feeling wild)
1 tsp chili flakes (optional—my kids politely request NONE, but I miss the kick)
Salt & black pepper, to taste
A good handful of fresh basil, torn up (or parsley if that’s what’s wilting in the crisper)

How the Magic Happens (Step-by-Step, Sort of)

Get that pasta water rolling. Big pot, loads of salt. Then toss in your pasta. You know the drill. Save about a cup of starchy water before draining—trust me, you’ll want it later.
Shrimp time. Medium-high heat, splash of olive oil in your main pan. Toss the shrimp in with a sprinkle of salt and pepper. I do about 1–2 minutes per side; they’re done as soon as they curl up and turn pink (don’t overdo it or they get rubbery—been there, ate that). Scoop ’em out, set aside, and avoid taste-testing more than a couple…okay, maybe a few.
Build the sauce. Same pan, drop in the minced garlic and sliced sun-dried tomatoes. Sizzle for a minute—honestly, don’t let it burn, but if you do, just start over and call it extra “caramelized.”
Pour in cream and broth. Scrape up any bits sticking to the pan—that’s flavor, not a cleaning mistake! Simmer gently for a couple minutes. If it looks broken or weird right now, don’t stress. It all comes together (I promise).
Stir in Parmesan cheese; let it melt and make everything gloriously silky. If it’s too thick, add a splash of your saved pasta water. Too thin? More cheese (my answer to everything).
Add cooked shrimp back in, plus drained pasta. Toss together over low heat. Now’s the time for a sneaky taste-test—for science, obviously. Adjust salt, pepper, and chili if you’re feeling bold. Throw in your basil at the end.
Shovel into bowls. Or eat straight from the pan if you’re alone (no judgment here).

Lived-and-Learned Notes (Yup, Trial by Pasta)

Turns out, yogurt in place of heavy cream sort of works, but the texture’s not the same. Good in a bind though.
If you forget to save pasta water, just use a little milk. Or…admit defeat and move on—it’s still good.
On second thought, extra cheese at the end solves almost any sauce problem. I truly believe that.
I always spill at least one sun-dried tomato slice on the floor; consider it a small offering to the kitchen gods.

Experimenting With This Dish (Hits and Misses)

I’ve replaced shrimp with chicken once—worked all right, but it missed the “seafood magic.”
The one time I tried smoked paprika in the sauce, it completely overwhelmed the shrimp, so…yeah, wouldn’t do that again.
Fresh spinach thrown in at the end is fantastic (unless your family has green-phobes; mine does)
You can use gluten-free pasta, but don’t cook it in the sauce or it gets mushy. Ask me how I know.

Got the Right Gear? (You Can Probably Make Do)

Honestly, a big skillet or sauté pan is handy for this, but once I used a Dutch oven and it worked fine. No microplane for the parmesan? Use the fine side of a box grater or, heck, just crumble cheese with your fingers if it’s that kind of day. If you’re really stuck, I found some online hacks for grating cheese without a grater right here.

Got Leftovers? (Not That That Happens Much)

You can store Marry Me Shrimp Pasta in an airtight container in the fridge, probably up to 2 days. But honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! I’ve tasted it cold, straight from the container—still tasty, but I think it tastes better if you gently reheat in a pan with a splash of water (microwave in a pinch, just go slow).

Serving It Up (How We Do It)

We’re partial to lots of extra basil on top and sometimes, if feeling proper, I’ll slice some crusty bread to mop up the sauce. Oh, and a super simple green salad—iceberg with a splash of olive oil and whatever vinegar I grab first. On very lazy nights, just the pasta, couch, and maybe a glass of cheap Pinot. Got company? Candles at the table, just don’t ask how clean the kitchen is behind the scenes.

Lessons (AKA How Not to Mess It Up)

I once rushed the shrimp, tossed ’em back in too soon, and—no surprise—tough as old boots; give the sauce a minute to come together first!
Don’t skimp on the garlic. The first time I did, the whole thing tasted sort of flat, like listening to music with one earbud out.
If a taste test says “missing something”, it’s usually salt or a splash more broth. Or, like, more cheese (yeah I know, again with the cheese).
Mistake? No sweat. Remember, it’s dinner—no one’s handing out medals.

Frequently Asked (or Texted) Questions

Can I use pre-cooked shrimp? Eh, you can, but it’ll be a bit less flavorful—just add ’em at the very end to warm through. Kind of convenient, though, if you’re tired.
Is there a dairy-free version? I haven’t really cracked it, but someone once told me they used coconut cream. Gave it a try, tasted fine but, not my thing—felt kinda tropical?
Which pasta shape is best? I flip-flop, but long ones like linguine catch the sauce best. That said, penne isn’t wrong. It’s just…not iconic?
Can I make this ahead? You can, but honestly, it comes together so quickly it’s usually not worth it. That said, the flavors do mellow and deepen if it sits (so leftovers for lunch—chef’s kiss)
Where’d you get that cute pan? (No joke, I’ve been asked this.) It was a random buy on Amazon, honestly nothing fancy!

Before I forget (classic me), if you want a deeper dive into shrimp basics, this shrimp guide is super helpful—and it’ll spare you buying the weird translucent kind that tastes like sadness.

Well, that got a bit rambling, but I hope you feel inspired to whip up Marry Me Shrimp Pasta. And if your kitchen looks like a tornado hit? Welcome to the club.

Marry Me Shrimp Pasta