Contest-Winning Teriyaki Pork Roast

Christmas, year three. The table: Karen's turkey, stuffing, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, pumpkin pie. My japchae, tteokguk, galbi jjim. Three years of Korean dishes on the Christmas table, and now Karen lists them when she calls to plan: "Turkey, stuffing, and your japchae and tteokguk and galbi jjim." She says "your" the way she'd say "our" — with ownership, with belonging. The Korean dishes are part of the Park family Christmas now. Not additions. Not novelties. Part of it. Structural. Load-bearing. The table would feel incomplete without them, the way it would feel incomplete without the green bean casserole or the cranberry sauce. The Korean food is tradition now. My tradition. Our tradition.

Kevin and Lisa came. (They're dating. They admitted it Thanksgiving weekend. Everyone said "finally" in unison. Kevin looked embarrassed. Lisa looked pleased. The embarrassment and the pleasure are the whole relationship in two facial expressions.) Kevin brought Bridge City coffee and a new product: coffee-infused chocolate truffles that Lisa developed and that Kevin is selling at the shop. The truffles are excellent. The business is expanding. The man is thriving.

Gifts: Karen gave me a Korean language book — an advanced textbook, the next level up from what I'm using. She's been tracking my progress (she asks about Korean class every Saturday) and found the right book. The woman who didn't know what gochugaru was three years ago now buys Korean language textbooks for her daughter. David gave me a digital kitchen scale — precision engineering for the kitchen, the most David gift possible. Kevin gave me a bag of his best coffee beans with a note: "For your Korean cooking. Coffee goes in the bossam broth, remember?" I remember. Coffee in the bossam. Korean food and Kevin's coffee, together again, the way Korean food and Kevin's sobriety are together, the way all the pieces of our lives are together now, fitting into a picture that makes sense even though nobody planned it.

Christmas morning: I called Mina in Seoul. Christmas Day in Korea. She said, "메리 크리스마스, 스테파니!" (Merry Christmas, Stephanie!) We talked for twenty minutes — in Korean, mostly — about her Christmas (dinner with friends, fried chicken, which is the Korean Christmas tradition — fried chicken on Christmas, possibly the most Korean thing), about my Christmas (two cuisines, one table), about the year ahead. She said, "2019년에 한국에 다시 와!" (Come back to Korea in 2019!) I said, "갈게요." (I'll come.) The promise is in Korean. The intention is real. 2019. Back to Korea. The second trip. Not a first-time pilgrimage but a return visit. A coming-back. The difference between visiting a place and returning to it is the difference between tourist and — not resident, but something. Something that has been there before and wants to be there again. Something that belongs.

Every year the Korean dishes earn a little more real estate on the Christmas table, and every year I think about what else belongs there — something that lives in that space between Karen’s turkey and my galbi jjim, something that speaks both languages at once. This teriyaki pork roast does exactly that: the soy and ginger are familiar to the Korean side of the meal, the slow-cooker ease fits right into a holiday kitchen already juggling tteokguk and stuffing. Kevin mentioned coffee in the bossam broth last year, and the depth of flavor here — sweet, savory, a little caramelized — scratches that same itch. It’s become the quiet workhorse of the table, the dish that doesn’t announce itself but disappears first.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 6–8 hours (slow cooker) | Total Time: 6 hours 10 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 boneless pork shoulder roast (3 to 4 lbs)
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup soy sauce (reduced-sodium recommended)
1/4 cup apple juice or pineapple juice
2 tablespoons sesame oil
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon fresh ginger, grated (or 1 teaspoon ground ginger)
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons cornstarch
2 tablespoons cold water
Sliced green onions and sesame seeds, for garnish

Instructions

Make the teriyaki sauce. In a medium bowl, whisk together the brown sugar, soy sauce, apple juice, sesame oil, garlic, ginger, and black pepper until the sugar is mostly dissolved.
Load the slow cooker. Place the pork roast in a 5- or 6-quart slow cooker. Pour the teriyaki sauce evenly over the roast, turning once to coat all sides.
Slow cook. Cover and cook on low for 6 to 8 hours, or on high for 3 to 4 hours, until the pork is fork-tender and pulling apart easily.
Rest the roast. Transfer the pork to a cutting board, tent loosely with foil, and let rest for 10 minutes before slicing or shredding.
Thicken the sauce. Pour the cooking liquid from the slow cooker into a small saucepan over medium-high heat. Stir together the cornstarch and cold water in a small bowl, then whisk into the pan. Cook for 2 to 3 minutes, stirring, until the sauce thickens to a glaze.
Serve. Arrange the sliced or shredded pork on a platter, drizzle generously with the thickened teriyaki glaze, and finish with sliced green onions and a scatter of sesame seeds.

Nutrition (per serving)

Contest-Winning Teriyaki Pork Roast — A Korean-Inspired Table That Finally Feels Like Home