Breaded Pork Tenderloin -- The Ribs Were for Eduardo, But This One’s for the Rest of Us

Father's Day. Third Sunday of June. Miguel Sr. has been dead thirteen years. This is the longest stretch of Father's Days I have had without him — longer than the stretch I had with him as an adult — and my feelings about him have settled, as I have written before, into a complicated peace.

This year I did something I have not done before. I went to the cemetery on Saturday. Fairview Cemetery in West Hartford, where Eduardo and I bought a plot in 2005 after Eduardo's brother died suddenly and reminded us that we should plan. Miguel Sr. is buried in Bayamón — he died there, he is buried there, he stays there — but there is no Father's Day pilgrimage available to me short of a plane ticket, and I had not had one in me this year.

So I went to Eduardo's father's grave instead. Juan Carlos Ortiz, died 1998, from Ponce, Eduardo's father, a man I met only a handful of times because he lived on the island and we lived here. I brought a flower from the front yard — a small yellow tulip — and I put it on the stone. I stood there for ten minutes. I talked to him in Spanish. I told him his son was a good husband. I told him his son had been a good father to four children. I told him I was retiring and that I was going to try to take care of his son. I did not know if he was listening. It did not matter. Father's Day is for the ones who have them and the ones who do not.

Sunday I made Eduardo ribs. Costillitas. Braised and grilled, my usual. Miguel Jr. came over with Mateo. Rosa and Sofía were both elsewhere. Mami had a hard day and stayed at the apartment. So it was Eduardo, Miguel Jr., Mateo (in the carrier), and me. Four people. The smallest Father's Day dinner we have had in a long time.

Miguel Jr. said, "Dad, I am sorry we are not a bigger crowd today." Eduardo said, "Four is a crowd." He meant it. He does not need a big dinner. He does not need a party. He needs his son at the table and the ribs on his plate and his wife across from him and a grandchild sleeping in a carrier and the afternoon sun through the kitchen window. That is the complete picture for him.

I gave him the card I had made. I do not usually make cards. I made one. It said, "To the father who showed up for thirty-four years." He read it. He folded it. He put it in his wallet. He will keep it for the rest of his life. He kept the 1991 card I wrote for him when I was thirty weeks pregnant with Rosa and crying over my hormones. He still has that card. I know, because I saw it in his wallet two years ago. He will have my cards in his wallet when he dies and the coroner will pull them out and be confused. Wepa.

The costillitas were Eduardo’s — braised, grilled, the ones I have been making him for years, the ones that belong on a Father’s Day plate with the afternoon sun coming through the window. But not every dinner is a Sunday in June with a grandchild sleeping in a carrier. For the ordinary Tuesdays and the smaller tables, I come back to this breaded pork tenderloin: pounded thin, coated crisp, done in twenty minutes, and satisfying in the way that a simple thing done right is always satisfying. It is the weeknight version of that same love — nothing complicated, just showing up with something good.

Breaded Pork Tenderloin

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 lbs pork tenderloin, sliced into 1-inch medallions
• 1 cup plain breadcrumbs
• 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
• 1 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 2 large eggs
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• 3 tablespoons olive oil or vegetable oil, for pan-frying
• Lemon wedges, for serving

Instructions

1. Pound the pork. Place each pork medallion between two sheets of plastic wrap or in a zip-lock bag. Using a meat mallet or rolling pin, pound to about 1/4-inch thickness.
2. Set up your dredging station. Place the flour in a shallow dish. In a second shallow dish, beat the eggs with 1 tablespoon of water. In a third dish, combine the breadcrumbs, Parmesan, garlic powder, smoked paprika, onion powder, salt, and pepper.
3. Bread the cutlets. Working one at a time, dredge each pork cutlet in flour and shake off the excess. Dip into the egg wash, letting any excess drip off. Press firmly into the breadcrumb mixture, coating both sides evenly.
4. Heat the oil. In a large skillet over medium-high heat, warm the oil until shimmering. You want enough oil to come about 1/8 inch up the sides of the pan.
5. Fry the cutlets. Working in batches to avoid crowding, cook the breaded cutlets for 3 to 4 minutes per side, until deep golden brown and cooked through (internal temperature of 145°F). Transfer to a paper-towel-lined plate to drain.
6. Rest and serve. Let the cutlets rest for 2 to 3 minutes before serving. Plate with lemon wedges on the side and your choice of vegetables or salad.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 390 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 15g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 490mg