Apple Pork Loin — The Kitchen Warm Enough to Live In

Peter did not call. I called him. He picked up on the third try. He sounded thin — the way he has sounded for months now, the way Pappa used to sound. I told him about the meatballs I was making. He said he wished he was here. I said come for Christmas. He said he would try. I did not push. I did not lecture. I said I loved him. I hung up the phone and I stood at the kitchen sink for a long minute looking at the lake. Sophie texted a photo of Mira eating cereal. Mira's face was covered in milk. The photo was lit from the side by morning light and the smile in it was uninhibited and full and I could not stop looking at it. I printed the photo. I taped it to the fridge. I have a system on the fridge now: a column for each grandchild, a column for each great-grandchild, photos rotated weekly. The fridge is the gallery. The gallery is the proof. Peter called from Chicago. He sounded thinner than last week. He said work was fine. I do not believe him. He said his apartment was fine. I do not believe him either. He asked about the dog. He asked about the lake. He told me he loved me. I told him I loved him too. I told him about the bread I was baking. He said he could almost smell it through the phone. We hung up. I stood at the sink for a long minute. I did not know what else to do. I cooked Chicken pot pie this week. Whole chicken poached for stock and meat. Pie crust made with butter and lard (half and half — the lard makes it flaky, the butter makes it taste good). Diced potato, carrot, peas, pearl onions, the shredded chicken in a white roux thickened with the chicken stock and milk. Topped with a lid of crust. Baked until the crust is gold and the filling bubbles through the slits. The Damiano Center: the regular Thursday. The soup is the soup. The conversations are the conversations. The week is held by the Thursday. I do not know what I would do without the Thursday. The Thursday is the structural element of the week. The structural element does not collapse if the rest of the week goes sideways. The Thursday holds. The lake was iron gray. The kind of gray Paul loved. He used to say: "That is the gray that means weather is coming." He was always right. I miss being told. I miss being told what the lake means by a man who knew what the lake meant. I have learned to read the lake on my own. I am, at this point, an adequate reader. I am not as good as Paul was. I am better than I would have been if I had not had to learn. It is enough. It has to be. And on a morning like this, with the lake doing what the lake does and the dog at my feet and the bread on the counter and the kitchen warm enough to live in, it is. The phone rings less than it used to. Not because fewer people are calling, but because the people who call are mostly the family, and the family has settled into a rhythm — Peter daily, Anna twice a week, Sophie weekly, Elsa biweekly, Karin Sundays, Astrid Sundays. The phone rings predictably. I pick up predictably. The predictability is the love at this stage of life. It is enough.

The chicken pot pie was for the Thursday — for the Damiano Center, for the structural element of the week. But on the nights when I cooked only for myself, when the lake was iron gray and the phone had already been hung up and there was nothing left to do but make the kitchen warm, I wanted something that asked less of me and gave more back. Apple pork loin is that dish. It smells the way autumn is supposed to smell. It fills the house the way a house needs to be filled. Peter said he could almost smell the bread through the phone — I think, if I had made this instead, he would have asked me to leave the window open.

Apple Pork Loin

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 1 hr | Total Time: 1 hr 15 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 2 1/2 lb boneless pork loin roast
• 2 medium apples (Honeycrisp or Granny Smith), peeled, cored, and sliced 1/4 inch thick
• 1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
• 2 tablespoons brown sugar
• 1/2 cup apple cider (or unsweetened apple juice)
• 1 teaspoon dried thyme
• 1 teaspoon dried rosemary, crumbled
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1 tablespoon unsalted butter

Instructions

1. Preheat and prep. Heat the oven to 375°F. Pat the pork loin dry with paper towels and season all over with salt and pepper.
2. Sear the roast. Heat olive oil in a large oven-safe skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Sear the pork loin on all sides until deep golden brown, about 3–4 minutes per side. Transfer the pork to a plate.
3. Build the base. Reduce heat to medium. Add butter to the skillet. Add the sliced onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more. Stir in the Dijon mustard and brown sugar until dissolved.
4. Add apples and liquid. Arrange the apple slices in the skillet with the onion mixture. Pour in the apple cider and sprinkle in the thyme and rosemary. Stir gently to combine.
5. Roast. Nestle the seared pork loin on top of the apple and onion mixture. Transfer the skillet to the oven and roast, uncovered, until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the thickest part reads 145°F, approximately 45–55 minutes.
6. Rest and serve. Remove the skillet from the oven. Transfer the pork to a cutting board, tent loosely with foil, and let rest 10 minutes. Slice into 1/2-inch rounds and serve over the apple and onion pan sauce.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 17g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 310mg