Organic + farmers market fresh Roasted Carrots and Beets and the Juiciest Pork Chops


First off, you're probably thinking "pork chops, again?" (See this post.) Cooking and blogging about bone-in pork chops two times in one month might appear suspiciously unoriginal, but I swear I'm no one trick-pony. I
just happened to have beets and carrots from the farmer's market lying around that day and that needed to be used immediately. As bad as I am at this, I attempt to use veggies the day of purchase in order to maximize the freshness. Actually, I usually suck at this so it was time for me to shape up.

Here's the thing about beets. I love to eat them, but I hate cooking with them. The long scraggly leaves, the dirt that collects in the crevasses­ all these factors leave me feeling lazy and uninspired. All the peeling and slicing and boiling and dot dot dot. With that being said, the beets I saw at the farmer's market last weekend were gorgeous: Robust, with healthy green leaves, unusual for beets sometimes. So I bought some, not knowing what would befall upon one of my weeknight meals until I found Jamie's pork recipe. My last "Jamie" pork was such a success that this one seemed like a smart investment. This project has turned me into a day trader I tell you.

The sage + pork combination was going to be a surefire winner. Sage is so good with most meat dishes. It's kind of woodsy and savory. Burn it and you ward off evil spirits, or something of that auspicious nature. Press it onto a pork chop, and you get a fatty, juicy decadent dinner entree. Sage is awesome and in my own kitchen, a very underrated herb.

The carrots and beets were roasted until glazed. The carrot was dressed in an orange juice, garlic and thyme mixture while the beets were dressed in balsamic, garlic, and rosemary. I think Jamie did this so both would achieve similar levels of sweetness. And the sweetness was just enough to balance the natural saltiness of the pork loin.

Overall, this dish was good, but maybe it lacked a little oomph for a Monday night. Back to the drawing board, I guess.



Here I am, chopping off my thumb, as usual.


Segregating my root vegetables.


I always cook my pork under the guise of the yin-yang symbol.


The directions said to deglaze the pan with lemon juice, giving me delicious
citrusy crispy pork bits to spoon over my dish. Perhaps, my favorite component of the dish.

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.



Fennel seed, bay leaves, and salt working hard at becoming paste.


Roasted new potatoes with pork fat resting atop.


Two average pork chops hanging out with a fancy one. Long story.


Krim’s really delicious homemade blueberry jam- and habanero chocolate-filled cookies.


El fin.