Chicken & Shrimp Pasta in Creamy Sauce!
The Dish That’s Fancy Enough for Date Night, But Lazy Enough for Sweatpants
Alright, foodies and/or people who just remembered they own a stove—gather ‘round. Today, we’re tackling a recipe that walks the tightrope between “I’m a culinary goddess” and “I’ll eat this over the sink like a raccoon.” Introducing Chicken & Shrimp Pasta in Creamy Sauce—a dish that’s basically a hug for your taste buds, if that hug came from a lobster wearing a Snuggie. Let’s get saucy.
The “Surf & Turf” Lie We’re All Telling Ourselves
Look, we’ve all been there. You want to feel fancy (“Ooh, shrimp! Protein diversity!”), but you also want to eat in sweatpants (“Why wash a plate when the pan is right here?”). This pasta is your compromise. It’s the culinary equivalent of wearing sequined pajamas—technically glamorous, but deeply unserious.
Is it authentic Italian? No. Is it authentic anything? Also no. But who cares when there’s cream, cheese, and a 50/50 chance you’ll impress your mother-in-law?
Ingredients (Or, “Why My Grocery Cart Looks Like a Midlife Crisis”)
Here’s what you’ll need to summon this carb-loaded deity:
Pasta (12 oz): Linguine, fettuccine, or whatever shape you’ve got buried in your pantry. Rotini? Go for it. Chaos is a lifestyle.
Chicken (2 breasts): Sliced into strips. Or cubes. Or abstract art. Your call.
Shrimp (1 lb): Peeled, deveined, and judging you for buying frozen. No shame, queen.
Heavy Cream (1 cup): The backbone of this sauce. We’re not here to skimp; we’re here to ascend.
Parmesan (1 cup grated): The powdery kind from a green can is acceptable. I won’t tell Nonna.
Garlic (4 cloves): Minced. Or smashed with a can of beans. Therapy is expensive.
Butter (3 tbsp): Because oil is for people who enjoy disappointment.
White Wine (½ cup): For the sauce and the chef. (Sub: Chicken broth + a splash of lemon juice.)
Paprika, Red Pepper Flakes, & Black Pepper: For ~~sPaRkLe~~ and mild regret.
Fresh Parsley (to garnish): Optional, but it makes the Instagram photo 73% more believable.
Cooking Steps (Aka “How to Burn Garlic Without Losing Hope”)
Step 1: Boil Pasta
Cook pasta in salted water until al dente (aka “still has a will to live”). Drain, but save ½ cup pasta water—this is your “oops, the sauce is too thick” lifeline.
Step 2: Chicken Crimes
Season chicken with salt, pepper, and paprika. Heat a skillet with 1 tbsp butter, then cook chicken until golden. Set aside. Do not eat it all straight from the pan. (Liar.)
Step 3: Shrimp Drama
In the same pan, add another tbsp butter. Toss in shrimp, garlic, and a pinch of red pepper flakes. Cook until shrimp turn pink (about 2 mins per side). Remove shrimp. Congrats, you’ve now juggled two proteins. Gordon Ramsay would clap, probably.
Step 4: Sauce Sorcery
Melt the last tbsp butter. Deglaze the pan with white wine, scraping up the “burnt stuff” (chef’s term: “fond”). Let the wine reduce by half, then pour in cream and ½ cup pasta water. Simmer until it thickens. Stir in parmesan until it’s smoother than your excuses for skipping the gym.
Step 5: Unite the Nations
Toss pasta, chicken, and shrimp into the sauce. Stir gently, like you’re tucking a baby into a dairy-filled crib. Garnish with parsley and extra parm.
Why This Recipe Works (Besides the Obvious Cheese)
Texture Play: Tender chicken, snappy shrimp, silky sauce. It’s a spa day for your mouth.
Flavor Layers: Garlic + cream + parm = the holy trinity of “why is this so good?”
Speed: 30 minutes start to finish. Faster than ordering takeout and arguing about who pays.
Pro Tips for Maximum Deliciousness 💃
Shrimp Hack: Buy pre-cooked shrimp. Toss them in at the end. Laziness wins.
Cream Swap: Half-and-half works, but your sauce will whisper, “I’ve seen better days.”
Add Veggies: Spinach, sun-dried tomatoes, or peas. (“Look, Mom, I’m healthy!”)
Spice It Up: Cajun seasoning, Old Bay, or a reckless dash of hot sauce.
Nutritional Fiction™
Per serving (if you ignore the cream):
Calories: “A number between ‘worth it’ and ‘denial.’”
Protein: Enough to justify the cheese.
Regret: Reserved for tomorrow’s jog.
Serving Suggestions (For the ~~Aesthetic~~)
Date Night: Light candles, pour Chardonnay, pretend you didn’t burn the first batch of shrimp.
Solo Night: Eat straight from the pan. No pants. No regrets.
Potluck Flex: Bring this, and watch Karen’s quinoa salad weep silently.
Epilogue: The Chaos Chef Creed
Life’s too short for bland food and taking yourself seriously. This dish is proof that you can be a hot mess and a gourmet genius. Now go forth, twirl that pasta, and remember: If anyone questions your life choices, just hand them a fork.
PS: If the shrimp are overcooked, blame the recipe. If it’s amazing, take all credit. 😉
About the Creator
July Sarah
Hi, I'm July Sarah, a passionate home cook sharing simple, delicious recipes to inspire your kitchen adventures. From comfort food to creative dishes, join me in celebrating the joy of homemade meals!
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