Pork Loin

When it comes to pork loins, I am very much in favor of brining. You do have to start a day ahead, but the end result is succulent and juicy.

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.

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.

This traditional Cantonese dish can be eaten with rice or noodles, tossed into a fried rice or noodle dish, or used to stuff into a sweet bun. It’s beloved by all meat eaters and a great dish for parties.

Ginger may not be a spice you associate with Sweden, but it’s there (as is cardamom), and it makes its mark in this winter dish.When I was first served this, it was done in traditional, fancy style: a large roast of pork with a hole poked right through its center, stuffed with the dried fruit. It’s a glorious presentation and my first choice. But I have since been served it, and made it, in the simpler, stewed fashion of the variation, which is equally legit. I like this with Potato and Horseradish Gratin (page 482), but it’s good with most any potato dish.

An international dish if ever there was one (the Philippine version is quite similar and you can find others around the globe) and one that can be spiced with as little as a rub of garlic, salt, and pepper or a little more elaborately, as is this one. Use a bone-in loin cut, from the rib (shoulder) end, or simply a boneless shoulder (picnic or butt) roast. This is the pork that is best used for Sandwich Cubano (page 363).

Choucroute, the Alsatian specialty, is a near-perfect party dish: you can easily make it in advance and in quantity. This version, with boiled potatoes cooked right in, is also a one-pot dish. Serve it with bread— preferably good rye or pumpernickel—and you’re all set. (Well, you’ll also need some hot mustard and beer or Alsatian wine.) Feel free to vary the meats however you like. But, as is always the case, buy sauerkraut that is either sold in bulk or packed in plastic and contains no more than cabbage and salt.

Much northern Chinese food is spicy, and this well known soup follows that pattern, deriving its heat from freshly ground pepper (use a lot of it) and its sourness from rice vinegar. Don’t be put off by the long ingredient list: this doesn’t take much time to prepare and is guaranteed to be better than the version served at most Chinese restaurants. Normally, I think thickening with cornstarch is unnecessary, but here it feels appropriate to give the soup its signature thickness; you can eliminate it if you like. Any of the dried ingredients that you can’t get at your supermarket can be found at almost any Chinese market.

Most satays are thin slices of meat threaded through a bamboo skewer and grilled; they are almost inevitably dry. But this Malaysian version is made like kebabs, with bigger chunks of meat, which remain juicy and tender. Since they can be assembled ahead of time, they make a convenient starter, especially if you’re going to be grilling anyway. More on tamarind on page 587 and on nam pla on page 500.

Rollatini are a popular dish in Italy. They can be made with chicken, veal, or pork, and the stuffing can be just about anything you like, but do include cheese. The delight of rollatini is the oozing cheese when you cut into them. So, whatever you do, do not skimp on the cheese. This dish was very popular on the menus of Italian American restaurants in the sixties and seventies. Fontina has great melting qualities; when it is not readily available, Muenster cheese is often substituted.

We have all seen countless dishes called al Marsala on the menus of Italian-American restaurants. Too often, I have found, they disappoint me. The pork scaloppine I enjoyed at the Ferdinando brothers’ trattoria reminded me that this simple preparation depends so much on the quality of the wine that is splashed into the skillet. And I was not surprised to learn that the superb sauce coating the meat was made with a carefully chosen Marsala, dry and aromatic. After all, the town of Marsala lies just a few hours west of Palermo, and from that western tip of the island comes all authentic Marsala, in a wide range of vintages, colors, and degrees of sweetness. The finest Marsalas, aged a minimum of 10 years, are ranked with the great fortified wines of the world—sipping one of these is a pleasure you shouldn’t miss. But for good cooking, I recommend a moderately priced Superiore (aged 2 years) or Superiore Riserva (aged 4 years). I always prefer dry (secco) Marsala, even for desserts like Espresso Zabaglione (page 156); for these scaloppine, secco is a must.

Caraway seeds often season cabbage dishes; here they give pork a tangy coating. If you plan to make the cabbage to serve on the side, begin preparing that recipe first, since the total time is about an hour.

A classic southern kho, this combination of pork and eggs spotlights the importance of texture in Vietnamese cooking. The cut used here is pork leg (fresh ham), purchased and cooked with the skin (rind) attached. The meat is slowly simmered until tender, with a slight dryness off set by the unctuous skin and fat. The eggs develop an interesting contrast of chewy white and buttery yolk, while the sauce made from coconut juice is softly sweet. You may need to abandon your fear of fat when preparing this dish. It is important to use a piece of pork leg with its fat and skin intact, or the meat will be dry and lack richness. The cut is widely available at Viet and Chinese markets and sometimes at regular supermarkets. The meatier upper butt of the leg (the portion typically used for smoked hams) is best, rather than the lower shank. At the table, you may eat just the meat, using chopsticks to detach and set aside the unwanted bits. Crunchy Pickled Bean Sprout Salad (page 193) is a traditional accompaniment, along with plenty of rice. Viet cooks vary the size and type (duck or chicken) of eggs they use. I prefer medium chicken eggs. Canned coconut juice works in place of the liquid inside a fresh, young coconut. Choose a brand with the least amount of sugar for the best flavor.

In the Viet kitchen, preserved dried meats include not only Chinese sausages and jerky, but also these fine, salty pork shreds, named for their resemblance to cotton fibers. Mixed into a bowl of hot rice (add a pat of butter for richness) or creamy rice soup (page 67), the chewy shreds add savory depth to otherwise plain foods. They also turn up tucked into baguette sandwiches (page 34) or sprinkled atop rice crepe rolls (page 270). You may buy thit ruoc bong in tubs at Viet delis and Chinese markets (called pork sung or pork fu in Chinese), but I prefer to make my own. That way, there is no MSG and I know that quality ingredients were used. Eaten a little at a time, a batch lasts months. Use boneless pork loin that has been trimmed of any pearlescent silver skin and fat; Chinese markets often sell such well-trimmed cuts. Or, you can purchase a boneless center-cut pork loin roast, cut and trim the center portion, and reserve the balance for another use.

My mother dislikes the slight astringency of this salad, but my father loves it. One day he secretly taught me how to make the salad. I was tickled then as now by its wild and tangly appearance, juicy texture, and earthy flavors. The element that brings the ingredients together is Vietnamese balm (kinh gioi), a splendid herb with hints of lemongrass and mint. You will find giant, burgundy teardrop-shaped fresh banana blossoms (illustrated on page 174), which are technically buds, in the produce section of Chinese and Vietnamese markets. Select one that feels firm and solid (not spongy) and has a tightly closed tip. The smaller the better because there is less astringency in the bracts (petal-like leaves) and flowers, which are both used here. The blossoms and balm are at their peak in the summer.

Three Pigs is one of my favorite party dishes because it feeds a lot a people without breaking the budget. I make the stuffing one day in advance, refrigerate it, and all that’s left is to slather it onto the pork in a thick layer, roll it up, top it with a bacon roof, and put it into the oven. The carrots are a snap as long as you have a mandoline, or a carrot guy or gal (someone whose sole job is to cut the carrots into even slices on the diagonal; I’m just fantasizing here). We had a bread guy when I was the executive pastry chef at Tony’s in Houston, and all he did was make bread, all day, every day. Sadly for me, I don’t have a carrot boy or girl. When I’m entertaining at home, the work mostly falls to me, so I hook up my iPod, turn up the volume, and slice my own carrots. And unless I’m at work, it’s up to me to butterfly the pork loin so that it lies flat for stuffing. If I were you, I’d ask your butcher to do it, specifying that the loin be butterflied twice for stuffing. Day-old scones make a fabulously rich stuffing, I’ve discovered. Bake my smoked tomato scones (page 35) for another meal and stow three in the freezer for use whenever you fancy making this dish.

For the porchetta at the RoliRoti truck, Thomas uses a deboned pork middle, cutting out about half of the belly fat and leaving about 1/2 inch of fat on the loin. If you’re unable to find pork middle (a special request item, for sure), he suggests using a skin-on pork belly and wrapping the loin inside of it. Thomas also uses his signature rotisserie. Using a home version would be ideal, but this recipe has been adjusted so that it can be made in a standard oven.