Pork

Roman ox butchers, known as i vaccinari, have been attributed authorship for this most characteristic dish of la cucina povera romana. Honored as savvy, inventive cooks, the butchers were and are wont to pot up the most particularly toothsome nuggets plundered from the great beasts. The tail of an ox, though it surrenders inconsiderable flesh, is of the tenderest texture and most delicate savor to be gleaned from the whole hulk of him.

My first real chef position was at Alloro, a small Italian restaurant in Boston’s North End. In this all-Italian neighborhood, the owner was not Italian, but rather a Portuguese guy named Armando. Some cultures care more about food than others, and, like the Italians, the Portuguese are definitely devoted to their cuisine. Armando loved to tell me about the Old Country and the dishes his mother made for him when he was growing up. This dish is traditionally made with pork loin, but when I tried it, the loin was dry and didn’t seem to marry well with the flavors of the clams. So I decided to try it with pork confit, which would get crispy on the outside but stay meltingly tender on the inside. To give more pork flavor to the broth, I added chorizo and came up with my own version of pork (and pork!) and clams. In honor of Armando, I always make my pork and clams with fried potatoes. If he had his way, everything would come with fried potatoes.

In my opinion there is no better accompaniment to pork than pork. I’m shamelessly infatuated with this versatile meat and use it often, not only as the key player but also as a seasoning. In this dish it’s both—the chop is the star and the bacon supports it, echoing the great pork flavor. Brining adds an additional layer of flavor, both sweet and salty, while also tenderizing the meat, making for an extra-juicy chop. Catalan romesco is one of my favorite condiments. Made from roasted tomatoes, ancho chiles, nuts, garlic, olive oil, and fried bread, this spicy sauce is delicious on grilled fish, fried tetilla cheese, roasted leeks and onions—I don’t know where to stop. . . .

When you live in Southern California it’s hard not to be influenced by the spicy, vibrant flavors of Mexican food. People might imagine chefs spending their few and precious nights out wining and dining on five-course meals, but in reality you’re far more likely to find me at the sushi bar, Korean barbecue house, or my favorite taqueria. This spiced pork stew satisfies my cravings for the spicy, robust flavors of ethnic food. I start with some of the Mexican spices I love so much—cumin, cayenne, coriander, and chile—tossing them with chunks of fatty and flavorful pork shoulder and braising it into this succulent pork stew. Pork shoulder is one of my favorite cuts to cook with. As an added bonus, it’s one of the few meats that are still pretty inexpensive. People go crazy for this tender, slow-cooked pork bathed in its own spicy sauce, but don’t worry—it’s so impressive, they’ll never know you did it on the cheap.

This is not your mild-mannered pork chop! The pork porterhouse is two cuts of meat in one—just like its better-known cousin the beef porterhouse. From the short loin of the pig, the pork porterhouse (porkerhouse?) consists of the soft, luscious tenderloin on one side of the bone and the meatier loin on the other. The classic American accompaniment to pork is, of course, apples. But in place of the traditional applesauce, I like to serve these hefty chops with the time-honored duo of apples and potatoes. Called deux pommes, or two apples—one from a tree and one from the earth—the two are sautéed together until crispy and golden brown. To show off more of fall’s cornucopia, I’ve added quince, “Eve’s apple,” to the mix. Slathering the chops with quince jam (membrillo in Spanish cuisine, cotognata in Italian) is a sophisticated nod back to that applesauce. Be sure to cut the quince, apples, and potatoes into similar-sized pieces, so when they’re cooked they all look the same. The mystery is part of the fun; there’s no telling which bite will be which pomme.

This grilled pork confit evolved one night when I was making a staff meal at Lucques. I salvaged the leftover ends and trimmings from the day’s pork confit, crisped them in my favorite cast-iron pan, and ran to the walk-in to see what produce I could find to add to the dish. When I got back to the stove, I noticed half the meat was missing. Looking around, I saw that all the cooks had their heads down, suspiciously quiet. Half of my staff meal had disappeared, but I couldn’t be angry. Who can resist succulent pork, hot and crispy, out of the pan? Something so irresistible deserved to be shared with the outside world, so I put this staff meal on the menu!

Pork loin is a lean, delicate cut of meat compared to, say, a big, fatty chop, and this recipe is all about maximizing its taste and preserving its moisture. Applying the mustard marinade twice and roasting slowly with butter and herbs will simultaneously infuse the meat with complex flavor and help protect its precious internal juices. It’s very important to use a roasting rack, which helps the air circulate, resulting in even cooking.

My cooks sometimes refer to Lucques as the “house of pork.” I use pork often and in every form I can think of—marinated, brined, grilled, sautéed, confited, braised, ground into sausage or forcemeat, wrapped around fish or poultry, as a seasoning or an appetizer or a complete main course. This recipe is proof: with three kinds of pork packed into one dish, it’s a regular porkapalooza. These burgers completely satisfy my frequent pork cravings, and I think they’ll take care of yours, too. After all, few cultures appreciate pork better than the Latin ones, and these burgers pay homage to that culinary love. And it’s some spicy, decadent homage, too: Mexican chorizo, Spanish romesco, and the coup de grâce, a slice of melted Manchego on top. Do not be afraid to cook these burgers only until pink in the middle, when they are still juicy and delicious. Not only are all dangerous pork parasites killed at 137°F (long before the last pink disappears), but those organisms have been nearly eliminated from modern pork farming, so the risk is extremely low even from completely raw pork.

Enjoy this alsatian specialty with some good beer. I like making this with crunchy, bright, and tart fresh sauerkraut, which my mom brings me from France. It’s also delicious with regular sauerkraut. I love how the meat juices infuse the cabbage and potatoes for a satisfying one-pot meal.

Cherries and mustard may sound like an unusual pairing, but they taste great together. Sweet, tart, and hot, this sauce goes well with chicken and veal as well as pork.

We hate to choose favorites—we love all our “children” equally—but this sauce is the one we go to again and again and again. It has the perfect amount of kick to it, but if you prefer it spicier, feel free to add more red pepper flakes. But please—this is a big tip coming—wait a minute or two after you’ve added the red pepper flakes before adding more. Give the peppers some time to hydrate and the spice to dissolve—a little chile goes a long way but takes time before it reaches its full potential. Of course we love this sauce over pasta and on a Smash (two balls on a brioche roll with sauce and cheese) too. Try tossing in a handful of arugula with the hot pasta and sauce and allowing it to wilt, adding a generous grating of parmesan cheese on top. Perfection!

A few months after the Shop opened we got a call from the Food Network asking if we would be interested in being guests on Big Daddy’s House with host Aaron McCargo, Jr. They asked if we could develop a new meatball for their Thai-themed episode. The recipe, which captures all of the fresh, wonderful flavors of Southeast Asia, was a big hit on the show and in the Shop as well. Be careful not to chop the herbs too finely and feel free to add extra chiles if you prefer your meatballs extra spicy. The garnish—crunchy peanuts, basil, and grated carrots hit with rice wine vinegar and soy sauce—is a killer. Serve it all with Peanut Sauce (page 67, optional).

C’mon, how could we not include this seventies’ entertaining classic? But fear not, these aren’t tired chafing-dish buffet standards; they are a delicious duo of beef and pork, along with a well-spiced mixture of allspice and mustard powder and a touch of heavy cream. While people may argue over authenticity, we’re not Swedish, but we know these are darn good. Serve them with our Mushroom Gravy (page 63), Mashed Potatoes (page 79), and a bit of lingonberry jam.

Don’t mistake the recipe title for something you’d find at a frat party. This sophisticated ball came about when a friend brought us thirty pounds of wild boar from his hunting trip. Because that doesn’t happen often, we switched to ground pork, and the balls are just as good. These meatballs are actually pretty simple, accented with a splash of Madeira, chopped rosemary and sage, and a hint of honey. Try to find a good-quality Madeira; it is reasonably inexpensive, and if you buy something decent, you can drink it with dinner. Serve these meatballs alongside one of the seasonal risottos (see pages 74 to 77), accompanied by Simple Arugula and Apple Salad (page 112).

Packed with jerk flavor and just the right amount of spice to keep you wanting more, these balls pair perfectly with sweet Mango Raisin Chutney (page 68). If you want to take the heat up a notch, add a pinch of cayenne pepper. Serve them over some fluffy white rice with Honey-Roasted Carrots with Prunes, Walnuts, and Mint (page 89). All that’s left is to put on some Bob Marley and chill out with some friends and a cold Red Stripe.

The vibrant flavors of Mexico pop in these balls that we created for a Cinco de Mayo party. Pork meatballs get a kick from a splash of tequila, the smoky heat of ancho and guajillo chiles, along with a fragrant touch of cinnamon and cumin, reminiscent of carnitas, the traditional Mexican spiced, braised pork. Serve these with Salsa Roja (page 66). To serve alongside margaritas, try them as mini balls.

With just enough spice to tickle the tongue, these balls are the ultimate crowd-pleasers. Whenever we have a large event to cook for, we always bring our Spicy Pork Balls. In terms of the meat for these balls, ask your butcher to grind some pork shoulder. It’s inexpensive and full of flavor, and it’s a cut we really love. Instead of using bread crumbs, as we do with most meatballs, we use fresh white bread, which makes for a lighter meatball. The ideal way to serve these is over a bed of Creamy Polenta (page 78) with a hearty ladleful of Spicy Meat Sauce (page 57).

Here earthy ingredients from sunny Spain come together for a richly flavored meatball. A sharp Manchego sheep’s milk cheese and paprika-spiced chorizo sausage are mixed with ground pork and just a hint of red pepper flakes and garlic. When rolled into minis, these are a tapas treat. These balls stand up to the Spicy Meat Sauce (page 57) but go just as well with Classic Tomato Sauce (page 56).

When a prominent bourbon company called and asked if we would develop a meatball for them, we were all over it—we had wanted to run a BBQ meatball on the menu since the Shop opened. All that was needed was a Lower East Side (L.E.S.) barbecue sauce, which, when mixed with some sautéed onions and freshly ground pork, became the official recipe for the Shop’s BBQ balls. So the next time you want some quick ’cue, instead of slaving over the grill, you can prepare these balls ahead and spend some QT with your guests.

Partially cooking the potato and chilling it before grating serves two purposes: the potato gets thoroughly cooked within the sausage mix, which it won’t if it is added raw, and the sausage doesn’t turn out soft and mushy, which it will if the potato is cooked and mashed first. I prefer to get a jump start on this dish by preparing the potato a day ahead and chilling it overnight. But if you’re in a rush, several hours will do the trick, in which case, use the freezer to hasten the chilling. Rather than the standard Swedish accompaniment of mashed potatoes, I serve the sausage with a side of colorful, almost candylike roasted beets topped with sour cream.