Asian Pulled Pork Sandwiches

The Japanese maple in the yard bare and stark. Amazon this week. Sprint planning Tuesday. Two hours of meetings I could have been a Slack message.

Hana, 1, a small loud animal. She mostly eats rice and bananas. Jisoo FaceTimed Tuesday. We made doenjang jjigae together — me in Wallingford, her in Haeundae. Eleven thousand miles. The same soup.

Oyakodon for dinner. Chicken and egg over rice. Quick weeknight bowl.

Drove to Bellevue Saturday. Karen was tired. I brought soft food. She ate.

James fell asleep on the couch with the kids climbing on him. The household was the household.

Hana left a Lego on the kitchen floor. I stepped on it at two AM. Standard.

The newsletter went out Sunday morning. The opening sentence took an hour. The piece took five. The piece was what it needed to be.

A blog reader wrote about her own adoptee experience. We exchanged three emails this week.

David came over for Sunday dinner. He brought some tomatoes from the Bellevue garden.

I texted Jisoo a photo of the kimchi in the new onggi pot. She replied with the thumb-up emoji and a Korean-language critique. The duality is the gift.

I sat at the kitchen counter at six AM with a notebook and a cup of green tea. Writing time before the house wakes. The pre-light hour is the only writing hour I trust.

I made coffee at seven. Hana ate cereal at seven-fifteen. Min wandered down at seven-twenty-five. James left for work at eight. The morning was the morning. The standard.

My Korean is improving. Slowly. Painfully. Conversationally adequate now. I can argue about kimchi proportions in two languages, which is a milestone in any marriage between mother and daughter.

James and I had date night Friday. Indian restaurant on 45th. We ate too much. We sat in the car after talking about nothing for an hour. The marriage is the marriage.

Rain on the porch all afternoon Saturday. The Wallingford rain is its own weather. I sat with a book and a tea and did not move for two hours.

Reading at night. A novel by a Korean-American writer about a family in 1990s LA. I underlined four sentences. The underlining is the marking-of-the-territory of the soul.

The Capitol Hill apartment kitchen is small. We make it work.

Sprint review at Amazon Friday. Two hours. I could have been on a podcast.

Yoga Tuesday morning at the studio. The forward fold released something I had been carrying in the shoulder. The mat is the mat.

I read a thread on the Korean Adoptee subreddit Saturday. Some posts brought up old anger. Most are people figuring it out in real time. We are not unique. We are a community.

Therapy Tuesday with Dr. Kim. We talked about the parents — the two sets, the one living, the one gone, the one who became real after thirty years and the one who was real my whole life and is now gone. The work is the layered work.

The shiso on the south fence is fragrant and unruly. I brushed past it taking the compost out and the smell stopped me. The smell is the country. The smell is Jisoo's apartment.

The kimchi crock was bubbling Saturday morning when I checked. The bubbling is the right bubbling. The fermentation knew what it was doing.

Jisoo sent a photo of the dol the kids did for our visit last summer. The photo went on the fridge.

Sunday farmers market on Wallingford Avenue. The kabocha at the Asian vendor's stall. The shishito peppers. The brokered conversation. We bought too much. We always do.

The oyakodon happened Tuesday — quick, reliable, done — but it was the Sunday dinner with David and the tomatoes from the Bellevue garden that made me think about this one. Asian pulled pork sandwiches are the long-cook answer to the short-cook week: you set it, you forget it, and by the time the morning writing hour is over and Hana has scattered cereal across the floor and James has headed to work, the kitchen smells like something patient and good. It’s the dish I reach for when I want the food to carry some of the weight. This week, I needed that.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 8 hrs | Total Time: 8 hrs 15 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

3 to 4 lb boneless pork shoulder (butt roast)
1/3 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup hoisin sauce
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
2 tablespoons sesame oil
2 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon fresh ginger, grated
1 teaspoon Chinese five-spice powder
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
3 green onions, sliced (plus more for serving)
8 brioche or potato buns, toasted
Sliced cucumber and shredded cabbage, for serving
Sesame seeds, for garnish

Instructions

Make the sauce. In a medium bowl, whisk together the soy sauce, hoisin sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, brown sugar, garlic, ginger, five-spice powder, and red pepper flakes until the sugar dissolves.
Load the slow cooker. Place the pork shoulder in the insert of a 6-quart slow cooker. Pour the sauce evenly over the top, turning to coat. Scatter sliced green onions around the pork.
Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 7 to 8 hours, or on HIGH for 4 to 5 hours, until the pork is completely tender and pulls apart easily with two forks.
Shred the pork. Transfer the cooked pork to a cutting board and shred with two forks, discarding any large pieces of fat. Return the shredded meat to the slow cooker and stir to coat in the cooking juices. Let it rest in the liquid for 10 minutes.
Toast the buns. Lightly butter and toast the buns cut-side down in a dry skillet over medium heat until golden, about 1 to 2 minutes.
Assemble. Pile shredded pork onto the bottom bun. Top with shredded cabbage, sliced cucumber, additional green onions, and a sprinkle of sesame seeds. Add the top bun and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Asian Pulled Pork Sandwiches — The Weeknight Bowl That Holds the Week Together