Page 17 of Sex On A Plate

PORK CHILI VERDE

DIFFICULTY: There’s a flame involved, so…

TIME: Damned near all fucking day. This isn’t an after-work meal.

What you’ll need from the cupboard: A skillet, stockpot with lid, sharp knife, and a rubber spatula.

What you’ll need from the pantry: 2-3 pounds of pork loin or pork shoulder. 3-4 cloves garlic. A yellow onion, chicken broth, oil, salt, pepper, and cumin. 3 jars of Sprout’s Enchilada Sauce or Green Chili Sauce, (which, coincidentally, is the same). Tortillas (here, we prefer the Mission Whole Wheat Carb Balance).

* * *

Chili Verde.

My father started early and cooked it as a Saturday afternoon snack when we were kids. The aroma caused me to salivate. While he cooked, he’d explain things. Not about cooking, but about life. Like a sponge, I absorbed what he said, assuming one day it would all make sense.

“Never miss a good opportunity to keep your fucking mouth shut.”

That was one of his recommendations. The first time I heard it I suspect I was seven. Give or take.

At the time I wondered if it meant me and my siblings were supposed to be silent. It made sense, because he was always screaming something like, “Jesus H. Christ! Can you three fuckers be any louder? Quiet the fuck down!”

I later learned the recommendations he made to me as a child were to be used as a means of navigating my way through life as an adult.

In early adulthood, I decided my father was a wise man. His words of wisdom on Chili Verde?

“On your first visit to a Mexican joint, order the Chili Verde. If it’s good, everything else will be good. If it’s not, leave and never go back.”

He also said if a Mexican restaurant employed Anglos you should announce that you forgot your wallet and promptly depart.

If I was served this Chili Verde at a Mexican joint—even if they employed Anglos—I’d return time and time again. It’s that good.

Back to cooking.

Cut the pork into one-inch cubes. This is roughly the size of the ball of your thumb if you don’t want to measure them. Salt and pepper them liberally.

Pour oil into the bottom of the stockpot. Heat to medium high. Add the pork in small groups, so as not to overfill the pot. Brown on all sides. This should take 3-5 minutes per batch for 2-3 batches.

Remove the browned pork and set aside.

Chop the onion. When doing so, be careful.

Set it aside.

I’ll stop for a moment here and tell you a true story. In the winter of 2016, my wife’s family came down to visit. When you live in Southwest Florida, it seems everyone wants to visit in the winter. At any rate, her grandfather, grandmother, father, mother, brother, two sisters and brother-in-law all came to visit.

The entire group stayed with us (when we’re not playing host to distant family members, we have five at home and three in college).

One Saturday evening, the married sister decided she wanted to cook something. I don’t remember what it was, because she never cooked it.

She grabbed one of my knives, went to chop something, and chopped the end of her fucking finger off. No shit. Her dad rusher her to the urgent care, where they sewed everything back together.

Funny thing. She was trained in college to cook. It was her initial major. She later decided to be a schoolteacher, which is a good thing (because she can’t chop food for shit).

Back to cooking.

Add a little oil to the stock pot. Add the chopped onion. Sauté until translucent, stirring occasionally with the rubber spatula. Chop the garlic. Add it to the pot. Add the pork. Sprinkle a LITTLE cumin on everything. Add some chicken broth, about enough to cover the pork good (roughly a cup and a half).

Stir well.