Jamie All Week

A lovely pork chop with bay salt, cracklings, and squashed potatoes. And reconstituted asparagus soup (formerly, very frozen).

After work, I have to compulsively remind myself that this project is meaningful and worth the laborious crafting of 1,000 mental grocery lists. You see, cooking every night kind of blows. Scratch that. Cleaning up after myself in the kitchen blows more. Regardless of the loathsome soaping and scrubbing, jamieallweek has allowed me to mature as a cook. A sprig of mint or squeeze of lemon here and there has become instinctual! I used to avoid mint and lemon because the two are decidedly very intense ingredients. But I’ve learned that a little goes a long way. The two, when combined, really brighten up protein and vegetable dishes. Yes, yes, I am patting myself on the back right now.

This project has livened up my tastebuds. Jamie is adamant about using herbs in his food. I grew up on Sichuan-style cooking, and herbs never appeared in my diet (though I ate plenty of chilies, which my mom swears, stunted my growth). It’s fun experimenting with all the stems of greenstuff growing in my friends’ backyards (or in the produce section of Trader Joes). This is precisely why I decided to cook from Jamie’s best pork chops recipe. The pork chops are seasoned with a ground bay leaf-fennel seed-salt concoction. Served alongside are “squashed” purple potatoes (I only had new) and a hard cider-mustard reduction (I only had apple cider vinegar). It’s not real-life cooking without the monkey wrenches!

The rub was to be prepared in a mortar & pestle. Who knew an antiquated tool that my grandparents used during the Cultural Revolution, would still be relevant. Even in the time of food processors and the “bullet” (infomercial reference), it’s the easiest way to granulate large unmanageable particles. It’s an effortless way to muddle Thai bird chilies without being dangerously close to them (and then rubbing your eyes with the infected fingers, like I did once). Monkey wrench: All of the herbs I used in the “paste” were dried. So, using my common sense, I added a drop of olive oil. Hooray for paste!

Fluke #2: With no hard cider on hand (thanks anyway Ben, I know you scoured the aisles!) and only apple cider vinegar to work with, the acerbic djion and vinegar combination would have pickled the pork. Kristina (guest #2) suggested sweetening up the sauce with some honey. Honey did the trick. The Sauce à la Moutarde-and-um-honey added a sprightly kick to the herby chop. With thyme/porkfat-roasted potatoes and wilted spinach alongside, the impressive pork chop-dinner was a success. And this is what I mean about becoming a better cook: Figuring out how to maneuver through difficult, unfamiliar terrains without completely derailing. Now, how do I incorporate that in other areas of my life?

Sidenote: I’m lucky to have such thoughtful dinner guests. Amy brought cupcakes and bounty from her herb garden. Ben brought his own pork chop and potatoes and the vinegar I used to test my situational adaptability. And Kristina baked delicious filled cookies that she just drummed up the day of.