Twenty years ago, my partner and I walked into an attractive, crowded restaurant in Venice, whose name has sadly slipped from memory. We had to wait in quite a long line for a table. As we stood, scurrying waiters darted past us with platters of the most appealing looking dish, which we couldn’t quite identify. It seemed as though everyone in the restaurant was ordering this specialità della casa.

When we were seated, we asked the waiter what the popular dish was, and he explained that it was Gnocchi With Shrimp and Zucchini. Without hesitation, we both ordered this compelling house specialty. The gnocchi were gossamer light, the shrimp succulent, and the zucchini offered a gentle crunch. The cheese sauce that covered the gratinéed dish was silken and redolent with shellfish flavor. Perhaps this entree is a bit unconventional in Italy because many Italians look with scorn upon mixing cheese with seafood.

This was arguably the most memorable meal we had in Italy on this excursion. I made no inquiries at the restaurant as to how the dish was prepared. Nevertheless, I decided on the spot that I would attempt to recreate it when I returned to New York. Though I have no clue as to whether my attempts mirror the procedures of the restaurant, the results were more than a satisfactory imitation.

Quite certain that the gnocchi were not the leaden potato gnocchi of my youth, I searched out alternatives. Gnocchi alla parigina, or Parisian-style, which require a light hand, seemed to be the closest match. The Larousse Gastronomique claims that gnocchi are of Italian and Austro-Hugarian origins. The base for the gnocchi is pâte à choux. What? you say. The same batter that’s used to make éclairs and cream puffs? Yes. In this case though, the mixture is cooked in boiling water, rather than baked.

You begin by boiling milk, butter, salt, and nutmeg. Once at the boiling point, you add all of the flour at once, stirring vigorously with a wooden spoon until the mixture comes away from the bottom and sides of the pan. Then you remove it from the heat, beating in one egg at a time, and finally the grated Parmigiano.

Beating the batter.

Once the mixture is well blended, you place it in a pastry bag, squeezing 1/2-inch pieces into boiling salted water. 

Cutting and boiling the mixture.

Once cooked, the gnocchi are drained on paper towels.

Cooked and drained gnocchi.

I’ve tried cooking the shrimp in various methods—poaching, steaming. In the end, I find that sautéeing them in their shells and then peeling them gives me the tastiest and most satisfying results. The shrimp are easier to peel if they are cooked in the shells, which are then reserved to make a flavorful shellfish stock. This stock, in turn, is essential in making the sauce mornay, which enrobes the dish.

The zucchini are sliced into julienne strips and blanched in salted water for no more than 45 seconds.

Julienned zucchini.

Then they are thoroughly dried on paper towels. In assembling the recipe, you coat the bottom of the baking dish with the Mornay, then artfully arrange the gnocchi, the zucchini, and the shrimp over the sauce.

Arranging the gnocchi for baking.

Finally, you cover the ingredients with the remaining sauce and sprinkle with more grated Parmigiano.

The dish is then baked in a hot oven and gratinéed under a moderate broiler for just a few minutes to give you a golden-brown top.

Serving the gnocchi.

Although somewhat labor intensive, the results are impressive and well worth the effort.

To print or download the recipe, click here.