Tender Is the Loin...

There used to be a time when I could barely bring myself to touch raw meat. For the first several years of my cooking career, I only made dishes either with ground beef or turkey that I could flop into the pan straight out of the package, or I purchased meat that was cut exactly to the size I needed. This may not be very PC of me to say, given the growing sentiment against factory farmed meat, and the popularity of Michael Pollan's book, The Omnivore's Dilemma, but I struggle with being reminded of the fact that my meat once came from a living, breathing animal. I prefer to delude myself that it just materialized, neatly shrink-wrapped in my grocery store's butcher counter. If I put too much thought into where my meat comes from, I'd probably start considering vegetarianism. 

Over time, I've gotten less squeamish. I'll buy bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs because they are cheaper, and do some of the butchering myself. I've even started expanding the repertoire of meat that I'm willing to purchase, into pork roasts and pork tenderloins, both of which need to be trimmed and cleaned at home. I'm not going to say that trimming the firmly-attached silver skin off of a pork tenderloin is a pleasant kitchen task, because the meat is still slimy to the touch, and that stuff is practically impossible to remove, but I'm willing to go through the effort in order to add variety to our diet. 

This week, I managed to find a relatively decent price on pork tenderloin, which can be incredibly pricey, so I brought one home. To prepare it, I opted for a recipe that included roasted pears and shallots, since fruit is such a natural compliment to pork. Furthermore, I was intrigued by the unique pan sauce that accompanied the meat, which was formed from a mixture of pear nectar and chicken stock. I hadn't seen a sauce quite like it before, so it seemed like a technique worth exploring.

I'm not sure how I didn't realize this, however, but the ingredients for this dish were quite similar to the pork roast with apples I made for the first time two months ago, and have already made again since then. the herbs were similar, as was the presence of fruit, and shallots. Even though this dish was delicious, and the sauce was a nice extra component lacking from the pork roast recipe, I'd just as soon stick to the roast in the future. Not only is the cut of meat cheaper, the cooking method produces a juicier piece of meat. I'd just as soon get the same flavor profile for less money. 

That said, this dish was very good, and would be an impressive meal to serve to guests. If you don't have a Dutch oven for the pork roast recipe, I think this would be an excellent alternative.

Pork Tenderloin with Pears and Shallots 

adapted from Bon Appétit

 

3 tablespoons olive oil
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
1 1 1/4-pound pork tenderloin
3 large shallots, each cut into 6 wedges through stem end, peeled
3 unpeeled small Bosc or Anjou pears, quartered, cored
4 teaspoons butter, room temperature
2 teaspoons all purpose flour
1 1/2 c. chicken broth
3/4 c. pear nectar

Preheat oven to 475°F. 

1. Mix oil, garlic, and chopped thyme in small bowl. Rub mixture over pork, shallots, and pears. Heat large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add pork and shallots; brown on all sides, turning, about 7 minutes. Transfer shallots to platter. Transfer pork to baking sheet (do not clean skillet). Roast pork until thermometer inserted into center registers 145°F, about 10 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, add pears to same skillet and cook over medium-high heat until brown on cut side, turning once or twice, about 4 minutes. Transfer pears to platter (do not clean skillet).

3. Mix butter and flour in small cup. Add broth, pear nectar, and butter mixture to same skillet; boil until sauce thickens, scraping up browned bits, about 7 minutes.
4. Slice pork; arrange on platter. Surround with pears and shallots. Drizzle sauce over pork.

Imagine Whirled Peas...

It's a well-known fact that I am no fan of vegetables. My mother accepted this fact years ago, and largely stopped trying to foist them upon me, after I would spend entire evenings at the kitchen table having staring contests with the peas that refused to disappear from my plate when I was told that I wouldn't be dismissed from the table unless I ate them. My significant other, however, craves healthy things in his diet, and has been waging an uphill battle to get me to introduce more vegetables into our shared meals. In large part, I've been trying to accommodate his tastes, and incorporating more vegetable side dishes and selecting more meals that have vegetable components.

That's why a heavily vegetable-laced chicken salad from the most recent issue of Bon Appetit caught my eye -- now that my antagonistic relationship with peas has cooled, I thought a three-pea chicken salad would make a perfect lunch for me and my vegetable-loving boyfriend. Luckily for me, I was able to pick up all two of the necessary types of peas (snow peas and sugar snap peas) for a song at H-Mart yesterday, and we had frozen peas and frozen chicken breasts on hand, so there were few barriers standing in my way.

Just because I was able to acquire all the ingredients easily did not mean that I was able to throw this together in a timely fashion. The writers at Bon Appetit classify this as a quick meal, but they are sorely mistaken. This chicken salad is a test of one's knife skills the likes of which I have never experienced before. I spent what felt like forever thinly slicing the snow and sugar snap peas and green onion into fine ribbons, along with finely mincing the garlic and shallots. Sure, it was easy to chuck everything into a bowl and stir it up once it was all prepared, but I'm not sure the dish merited all the effort.

That's not to say that it wasn't tasty. If you like vegetables, like Justin does, I'm sure you'd enjoy this chicken salad as much as he did. For me, however, there were just too many raw vegetables and too little chicken. It was fresh, crunchy, and full of bright, spring flavors, but I couldn't ignore the voice of my inner child screaming, "Eiw! Veggies!" If you have some time on your hands, and access to a farmer's market, by all means, give this recipe a spin, you'll probably enjoy it. As for me, I'll be sticking with my much-beloved chicken salad recipe, that still has some fruit and vegetables for interest, but is more heavily skewed toward the meat side of the equation.

Three-Pea Chicken Salad

adapted from Bon Appetit

2 large shallots, 1 halved, 1 minced
2 garlic cloves, 1 smashed, 1 minced
1 pound skinless, boneless chicken breasts
Kosher salt, freshly ground pepper
3/4 cup low-fat Greek yogurt
3 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 pound thinly sliced stringed sugar snap peas
1 cup frozen, thawed peas
1/2 cup thinly sliced stringed snow peas
1/4 cup finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
1/4 cup finely chopped fresh green onion
2 teaspoons finely grated lemon zest plus 1 tablespoon (or more) fresh lemon juice

Place halved shallot, smashed garlic, and chicken in a medium saucepan. Add water to cover by 1 inch and season with salt and pepper. Bring water to a boil; remove pan from heat, cover, and let stand until chicken is just cooked through, 15–25 minutes, depending on size of chicken breasts. Transfer chicken to a plate and let cool. Shred or dice chicken. 

Meanwhile, whisk yogurt, oil, minced shallot, and minced garlic in a small bowl. Season dressing with salt and pepper.

Combine all peas in a medium bowl. Add chicken, dressing, parsley, green onion, lemon zest, and 1 Tbsp. lemon juice; toss to coat. Season to taste with salt, pepper, and additional lemon juice, if desired.