Pork

You can find fresh Chinese-style (and Japanese-style) wheat noodles at most supermarkets these days. They’re a great convenience food and, for some reason, seem to me more successful than prepackaged “fresh” Italian noodles. Here they’re briefly cooked and then combined with a stir-fried mixture of pork, vegetables, and Chinese sauces; it’s very much a Chinese restaurant dish. Both ground bean sauce and hoisin sauce can be found at supermarkets (if you can’t find ground bean sauce, just use a little more hoisin), but you can usually find a better selection (and higher-quality versions) at Chinese markets. Usually, the fewer ingredients they contain, the better they are.

This is not a stir-fry but a simmered dish, easy and fast. The cooking time totals about ten minutes, and the preparation time is about the same, so be sure to start the rice first.

You’ll find strongly seasoned, crunchy pork everywhere in Latin America, and it’s always irresistible.

This is the way to get tender, moist ribs without burning them. They take some time, but not much attention.

Spreading a roast with a sweet coating—apricot jam comes to mind—adds an interesting contrast of flavor, and the sugar encourages browning. But the results are often too sweet. So I decided to experiment with alternative coatings for a small roast of pork—one that would cook quickly enough to be considered for weeknight dinners—and settled on applesauce, which has a not-too-obvious benefit. Because applesauce doesn’t contain nearly the same percentage of sugar as jam, more of it can be used without overwhelming the meat with sweetness, and the thicker coating protects the meat and keeps it moist. This is important, because the superlean pork sold in supermarkets almost inexorably dries out as it cooks.

In its homeland of Alsace, choucroute garnie is no more special than a frank and sauerkraut, with which it has much in common. But while the French treat this archetypally hearty combination of sauerkraut, spices, wine, and smoked meats as common fare, here it has become the province of restaurants. In any case, choucroute is a flexible combination of wintertime staples, the perfect cold-weather dish, featuring sauerkraut cooked in a little goose fat (or duck fat or lard) and wine, then “garnished”—this is some garnish—with a variety of candidly heavy meats, some smoked, some fresh or salted. Note that good sauerkraut does not come in cans but is sold fresh from barrels or in plastic. It should contain no more than cabbage and salt—beyond that, the less the better.

This is a really easy dish that takes some time. But once you get it started (which will take just five minutes or so), you can all but ignore it during the cooking, just checking every now and then to turn the ribs and make sure the liquid doesn’t dry out. To make this into a whole-meal stew, use two cups of water and add some peeled and chunked carrots or turnips, whole pearl onions or shallots, or all of these. Some shredded cabbage added during the last half hour or so of cooking is also good.

This is a classic spring or fall dish, times when you can get good, fresh turnips but don’t mind long, slow cooking. Here turnips and pork are both browned for perfect color and then simmered in a little liquid until tender. Don’t ignore the instruction to preheat the skillet for at least a minute, then allow the butter and/or oil to become hot, and don’t crowd the meat, or it won’t brown properly. Make sure the first side of the pork cubes browns well and that the second is on its way to being browned before adding the turnips. The turnips themselves are so high in natural sugars that they brown almost instantly and continue to gain color as they braise.

Cassoulet in forty minutes or less is heresy, of course, but even “real” cassoulet was designed as a bean stew containing whatever meat, preferably fatty and flavorful, was available to throw in. That’s the spirit here, too. Although the pork tenderloin need not be browned before further cooking, the sausage benefits from a quick browning, definitely worth the five-minute effort. If you can get duck confit, just brown it lightly on both sides, adding both it and its fat to the stew in place of the duck breast.

Miso is a superb thickener, adding a rich, creamy consistency when whisked into a small amount of liquid. With that in mind, it’s the work of a moment to turn the pan juices remaining after searing a piece of meat into a great sauce. My choice here is pork for meat and red wine for liquid; the combination resulting from these three ingredients completely belies the amount of energy put into the dish. Red miso (which is in fact brown) adds terrific color to the sauce and has the strongest flavor of all the misos; it’s also the easiest to find. Miso must be handled gently, because high heat practically destroys its flavor; so be sure to keep the heat low when you stir it in. For the pork, I prefer a bone-in chop, preferably from the rib end of the loin; it’s a little bit fattier than other chops, and these days pork is so lean that the extra fat is a benefit rather than a detriment.

It isn’t often you can combine a few winter staples and create a novel, fresh-tasting dish that is easily varied, stands on its own, or forms the base for a variety of other foods. Yet a simple mélange of fennel and orange does all of these things and without a lot of effort. Take some slices of boneless pork, for example, marinate them briefly in olive oil, lemon juice, garlic, salt, and pepper, pan-roast them, then serve them on a bed of the compote: the mingled juices are sheer delight. (I’ve presented the recipe that way here, but it is easy to cook the fennel-orange combination on its own.) Similarly, the compote works nicely as a bed for simple roasted cod, sautéed duck breast, and grilled chicken. There isn’t much technique to speak of here; you’ll know the dish is done when the orange juice bubbles become scarce. Just be sure not to cook the compote entirely dry; the orange juice sauce is a nice touch.

This dish has the beguiling, distinctively Southeast Asian aroma of garlic, lots of it, nuoc mam (the Vietnamese fish sauce known more commonly by its Thai name, nam pla), and lime. But there are a couple of “secret” ingredients as well, including the mild acidity of lemongrass and the spiciness of black pepper in large quantities. Traditionally, this dish also contains the burnt sweetness that comes from caramelized sugar, but the intense heat of the grill makes honey a good substitute and a much easier one. So the marinade can be assembled in ten minutes, the grill preheated in another ten, and the pork grilled in ten: a great, intensely flavored, thirty-minute dish. You can use pork chops for this dish, but so-called country-style ribs (actually the shoulder end of the pork loin) remain moister during grilling. And if you can find these “ribs” with the bone out, so much the better—you’ve essentially got a one-inch-thick pork loin steak that grills beautifully.

Steamed dishes are not common even in Thailand (most Thai dishes are stewed or stir-fried). But this is a lovely, mild, sweet dish I had at an upscale restaurant in Bangkok; I thought it was an innovation, but it turns out to be quite traditional. You can prepare the mixture ahead of time, cover, and refrigerate the ramekins until you are ready to steam them. Serve it with rice and a salad or vegetable dish. To make ground chicken yourself, cut boneless, skinless breasts or thighs into chunks and put them in a food processor; pulse until ground, being careful not to overprocess. You can use turkey or pork in place of the chicken if you like. Information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla) is on page 500.

Of all the powerful ingredients in these burgers— lemongrass, shallots, garlic, chile, and nam pla (called nuoc mam in Vietnamese; see page 500 for information on these Asian fish sauces)—none survives the cooking as well as the lemongrass, whose distinctive scent and flavor override all the others, reducing them to bit players. Lemongrass is changed less by cooking than most seasonings, and this goes for its woody texture too, which is why you remove the tough outer layers. You can grind the tender cores with the meat instead of chopping them if you like. Serve the burgers on rolls, rice noodles, or salad. Other cuts of meat you can use here: ground beef sirloin or chuck, which may be combined with pork if you like.

Often the most effective marinating happens not before but after cooking. This technique, usually called escabeche, was once used to preserve food. It’s really a form of pickling: hot food was put into hot liquid containing a good deal of vinegar. Treated thus, it would keep for some time (if canned, for a long time). Since we don’t need escabeche for preserving, the postgrilling marinating time can be as little as a few minutes, but it can also be as long as overnight—it doesn’t make much difference; in either case, it produces a highly flavored, prepared-in-advance, room-temperature dish that is good as part of a buffet with a variety of other dishes (none of which should be noticeably acidic). Other cuts of meat you can use here: any cut of chicken, bone in or out (be careful not to overcook), or mackerel or other fish (typically floured and sautéed or fried before marinating).

Here’s how you really make cochinita pibil: Dig a pit and build a large wood fire in it. Cover the wood with rocks. When the rocks crack, they’re ready. Rub the pork as directed here, then wrap it in banana leaves. Put in the pit, then cover with leaves and douse the whole thing with water. Cover the pit. Let sit for a day or so. Eat. Or try my method, which is not bad at all.

Among the most mistreated and overused terms in cooking is jerked, which, at least when I had it in the central Jamaican highlands—Cockpit Country, as it’s called—is essentially a beautifully seasoned pork (or, originally, boar) shoulder slow-cooked over coals. (You cannot make a “jerked” pork tenderloin; it will simply dry out.) The distinctive flavors are nutmeg, allspice (which is called pimento in the islands), and habanero peppers. If possible, crack a nutmeg into pieces and toast about half of it in a skillet until fragrant, with about a tablespoon of allspice berries, then grind them together. If not, use dried spices as directed here. If you have a gas grill, this will be easy; but if at all possible, set up an aluminum tray of soaked wood chips over the side with the heat and replenish as necessary. If you use charcoal, use real charcoal instead of briquettes if you can. Serve this with Coconut Rice and Beans (page 516) and, if you dare, Habanero-Garlic Salsa (page 611). Other cuts of meat you can use here: bone-in chicken legs (cooking time will be considerably shorter, about 1 hour); spareribs, though not traditional, are also good.

When I was served this dish, of alternating bay leaves and chunks of lamb, the bay leaves were fresh (I was told that the world’s best bay leaves are grown around Smyrna, in Turkey). I couldn’t imagine that dried bay leaves would be much less delicious, and indeed they’re not. Either a rice dish or ordinary crusty bread is fine here, along with a salad like Spicy Carrot Salad (page 191), any of the eggplant salads on pages 191–193, or simply some plain roasted peppers or grilled vegetables. Other cuts of meat you can use here: chunks of boneless pork shoulder (which will need somewhat longer cooking) or beef tenderloin (filet mignon).

Said to have been brought to the islands by the Dutch, these are now as deeply ingrained in Japanese cooking as fried chicken is in ours. They are typically served on a simple bed of shredded cabbage, with a commercially prepared tonkatsu sauce. I have re-created the sauce from scratch here, and believe me, it’s far better than the bottled stuff. These can be deep-fried if you prefer (use about 2 inches of oil), but at home most Japanese shallow-fry them, as I do. Other cuts of meat you can use here: veal, chicken, or turkey cutlets.

A laughably simple weeknight dish that packs a lot of flavor. Try to buy shoulder (rib) end pork chops, which will dry out less in the pan than others. Serve with a salad and a cooked vegetable or starch, like any of the mashed potato dishes on page 480. Other cuts of meat you can use here: bone-in chicken thighs (which will require more cooking) or pork medallions cut from the tenderloin (which will cook more quickly).