Camarones Al Mojo De Ajo – Shrimp Sautéed In Butter, Garlic, And A Splash Of Lime Juice.
Okay, okay. This one...this one involves garlic. Lots of garlic. And Tía Mildred. You already know how this is going to go, don’t you?
So, Camarones al Mojo de Ajo—shrimp swimming in a buttery, garlicky, limey heaven. Sounds fancy, right? It isn’t. It’s peasant food, delicious peasant food. My abuela always said, “Good food doesn’t need a long name.” She wasn’t wrong, ¡ándale!
The mojo part? That comes from Spain. The Spanish brought their mojo recipes – sauces basically—to Mexico centuries ago. Garlic, olive oil, citrus… it was all about preserving flavor before fridges were a thing. Then, Mexicans being Mexicans, we took it, tweaked it, added our own spice. More lime, obviously. A little chile maybe, if you're feeling brave.
This particular version though? This is pure Abuelita. She learned it from her mother who learned it from her mother. It’s simple because it has to be. They didn't have much when they came here, but they always had shrimp (because my great-great-grandfather was a fisherman), and they always had garlic. Honestly, it smells like Abuelita’s kitchen even thinking about it. A good kind of smell. Except when Tía Mildred got involved.
It started innocently enough. I was home from college, trying to impress everyone with my newly acquired culinary skills (which mostly consisted of burning ramen). I decided to make the camarones for a family get-together, wanting to show off my "sophistication." Abuelita was supervising, naturally. “Más ajo, mija,” she'd say. “You gotta let the garlic sing!” Which meant adding more, and then more again.
Then she arrived. Tía Mildred. With her signature floral print dress and an opinion on everything. “Oh, look at you playing chef,” she said, peering over my shoulder. Her voice always made me feel like I was five years old again. Cousin Sofia snickered in the background. ¡Ay Dios mío!
“I’m just following Abuelita’s recipe, Tía,” I mumbled, desperately trying not to burn the garlic.
“Abuelita’s recipe? That’s cute. You need a secret ingredient.” And before I could protest, she reached for… a jar of pickled jalapeños. Pickled jalapeños! In camarones al mojo de ajo! My ancestors were rolling in their graves.
"Tía Mildred, no!" Abuelita shouted, swatting her hand away with a wooden spoon. It was a surprisingly forceful swat for someone so small. The jalapeño jar wobbled precariously.
“Just a little kick, dear!” Tía Mildred insisted, undeterred. “It needs something exciting! Everything needs a little excitement!" She winked at my cousin Marco who gave a very obvious eye roll.
That devolved into a full-blown kitchen debate. About the proper use of spice, about tradition versus innovation, about whether or not everything should be "exciting." I swear it sounded like a telenovela.
The shrimp was forgotten, simmering (and probably burning) on the stove. Abuelita kept yelling, "¡Tradición! ¡Respeto!" Tía Mildred countered with, “You can't live in the past, Dolores!” Carlos walked in, looked around at the chaos, and simply said, “Popcorn?” Then retreated back to the living room. Seriously.
Eventually, my Uncle Ricardo stepped in, playing peacemaker. He distracted Tía Mildred with promises of café con leche and gossip, and I managed to salvage the shrimp. It wasn't perfect. It definitely didn't taste like Abuelita's, but it wasn't pickled jalapeño disaster either.
We ate it anyway, pretending everything was fine. Everyone politely complimented me, except Tía Mildred, who kept muttering about how “a little heat never hurt anyone.” Even Abuelita gave me a small smile. “Bueno,” she said. “At least you tried.”
The next time I made camarones al mojo de ajo, I locked the kitchen door. And hid the pickled jalapeños. And maybe strategically placed a decoy jar of habaneros just for Tía Mildred. Don’t judge. A girl has to protect her abuela’s recipe.
And now I make it for my own family, keeping it simple, garlicky, and jalapeño-free. But every time I smell garlic sautéing in butter, I remember that kitchen showdown, and I hear Tía Mildred’s voice: “It needs more excitement!”
Recipe
Camarones al Mojo de Ajo – Garlic Butter Shrimp
(A little garlic never hurt anybody… unless Tía Mildred is involved.)
(history section already above) (family story already above)
Recipe
Ingredients 🌽🥘
- 1.5 lbs large shrimp, peeled and deveined
- 6 tablespoons butter (unsalted or salted)
- 8-10 cloves garlic, minced (do NOT skimp!)
- 1/4 cup dry white wine (optional, but Abuelita approved)
- 2 tablespoons lime juice, freshly squeezed
- 1 tablespoon chopped fresh cilantro, plus extra for garnish
- 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional, for a little kick)
- Salt and black pepper to taste
Tools 🔪🥄
- Large skillet or sauté pan
- Measuring cups and spoons
- Cutting board
- Knife
- Garlic press (or patience and a good knife)
- Tongs
Steps
- Pat the shrimp dry with paper towels. This helps them brown nicely (and avoids a soggy mess). Sprinkle with salt and pepper.
- Melt the butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Don’t let it burn! That ruins everything, trust me.
- Add the minced garlic and cook for about 1-2 minutes, until fragrant. Watch it closely! Burnt garlic tastes bitter, and Abuelita will haunt you.
- If using wine, pour it into the skillet and let it simmer for a minute, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Adds flavor, ¡sí?
- Add the shrimp to the skillet in a single layer. Cook for 2-3 minutes per side, until pink and opaque. Don't overcrowd the pan; work in batches if needed.
- Stir in the lime juice, cilantro, and red pepper flakes (if using). Toss to coat the shrimp evenly.
- Taste and adjust seasoning as needed. More lime? More salt? You decide. But remember what happened with Tía Mildred and the jalapeños…
- Garnish with extra cilantro and serve immediately. Maybe with a side of caution when family visits.
Make-Ahead / Storage
- The shrimp can be peeled and deveined ahead of time and stored in the refrigerator for up to 24 hours.
- Leftovers can be stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 2 days. Reheat gently on the stovetop or in the microwave.
- Freezing is not recommended, as the texture of the shrimp may change.
Side Dish Pairing
- Grilled asparagus with a sprinkle of parmesan cheese. It complements the garlicky shrimp perfectly.
- A simple green salad with a citrus vinaigrette. Something light and fresh to balance the richness of the sauce.
Tía Mildred siempre decía, “A little excitement never hurt anyone!”
... except maybe Uncle Hector.
