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Broccoli-Pork Stir-Fry with Noodles — The Pig, the Whole Pig, Apparently

November. All Saints' Day. Undas. The annual visit to Reynaldo's grave with Lourdes and Angela, the sampaguita garlands, the frozen ground, the prayer in Ilonggo. Ten years and eight months since he died. The math gets easier — not the grief, the math. The grief is consistent. It doesn't diminish by months the way a mortgage diminishes by payments. It stays the same size and I build larger rooms around it and sometimes the room is big enough that the grief sits quietly in a corner and sometimes the room shrinks and the grief takes up all the space and there's nothing I can do except stand in it and cook.

This year, Jason came to the cemetery. First time. He stood behind us — not with us, behind us, the distance correct, the instinct right. This is not his grief. He is not part of this circle. But he came, and the coming was the gesture, and gestures are the vocabulary of a man who was raised in Eagle River without Filipino traditions and is learning to honor them anyway.

Afterwards, at Lourdes's house, I made dinuguan — the blood stew, the Undas dish, the dark food for the dark day. Jason tried it without knowing what it was. I told him after. His face went through several stages: surprise, processing, acceptance, and then — to his enormous credit — he took another bite. "It's good," he said. "What animal?" I said, "Pig." He said, "The whole pig, apparently." I laughed. Lourdes laughed. A firefighter from Eagle River eating pig blood stew on All Saints' Day in a Filipino kitchen in Mountain View — this is what America looks like when it's working. Messy, dark, delicious, and surprisingly inclusive.

Lourdes watched Jason eat the dinuguan and said, quietly, to me in the kitchen: "He doesn't flinch." I said, "I know." She said, "Your father didn't flinch either." The comparison. Lourdes compared Jason to Reynaldo. Not his cooking (Reynaldo's was better). Not his career (Reynaldo was a technician, not a firefighter). But his character. His non-flinching. The quality of a man who can sit in a Filipino kitchen and eat blood stew and not make it about himself. The highest compliment Lourdes can give a man: he doesn't flinch. He reminds her of the man she lost.

I didn't tell Jason about the comparison. Some things Lourdes says to me are ours — mother to daughter, in the kitchen, with blood stew cooling on the stove. Some comparisons to the dead are too sacred to share. But I carry it. Jason doesn't flinch. Reynaldo didn't flinch. The men I love are the non-flinching kind.

The dinuguan that day was Lourdes’s recipe—hers and the holiday’s and not something I can hand you here. But the pork stayed with me, the way pork always does after Undas: present, unctuous, unapologetic. This broccoli-pork stir-fry with noodles is what I make in the weeks after, when I want to keep pork on the table without the weight of ceremony—fast enough for a Tuesday, savory enough to feel like something, and the kind of thing Jason will eat two bowls of without asking what animal first.

Broccoli-Pork Stir-Fry with Noodles

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 8 oz lo mein or udon noodles
  • 1 lb pork tenderloin or pork loin, thinly sliced against the grain
  • 3 cups broccoli florets
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
  • 3 tablespoons soy sauce
  • 1 tablespoon oyster sauce
  • 1 tablespoon rice vinegar
  • 1 teaspoon sesame oil
  • 1 teaspoon cornstarch
  • 2 tablespoons neutral oil (vegetable or canola), divided
  • 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
  • 2 green onions, thinly sliced, for garnish
  • Sesame seeds, for garnish

Instructions

  1. Cook the noodles. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook noodles according to package directions until just tender. Drain, rinse briefly with cold water to stop cooking, and set aside.
  2. Make the sauce. In a small bowl, whisk together soy sauce, oyster sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, and cornstarch until the cornstarch is fully dissolved. Set aside.
  3. Sear the pork. Heat 1 tablespoon of oil in a large wok or skillet over high heat until shimmering. Add pork slices in a single layer and cook without stirring for 1–2 minutes until browned on one side, then stir-fry for another 1–2 minutes until just cooked through. Transfer pork to a plate.
  4. Stir-fry the vegetables. Add the remaining 1 tablespoon of oil to the wok. Add broccoli florets and stir-fry over high heat for 3–4 minutes until bright green and just tender-crisp. Add garlic, ginger, and red pepper flakes (if using) and cook for 30 seconds until fragrant.
  5. Bring it together. Return the pork to the wok. Add the cooked noodles and pour the sauce over everything. Toss vigorously over high heat for 1–2 minutes until everything is coated and the sauce has thickened slightly.
  6. Serve. Divide among bowls and top with sliced green onions and a sprinkle of sesame seeds. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 410 | Protein: 32g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 44g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 780mg

Grace Santos
About the cook who shared this
Grace Santos
Week 136 of Grace’s 30-year story · Anchorage, Alaska
Grace is a thirty-seven-year-old ER nurse in Anchorage, Alaska — Filipino-American, single, and the person her entire community calls when they need a hundred lumpia for a party or a shoulder to cry on after a hard shift. She cooks to cope with the things she sees in the emergency room, feeding her neighbors and her church and anyone who looks like they need a plate. Her adobo could bring peace to a warring nation. Her schedule could kill a lesser person.

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