Crispy Carnitas Tacos

Jessica and I had the conversation this week. The big one. The one she's been circling around since Sofia turned one and I've been pretending not to notice. She wants another baby. She didn't say "I want another baby" — Jessica doesn't make declarations, she builds cases — she said "have you thought about the spacing between siblings?" and "Sofia would be a great big sister" and "my fertility window isn't infinite, Marcus." She laid it out like a financial proposal, because that's how her brain works, and then she looked at me with the look that means "I've already made this decision, I'm just waiting for you to arrive at the same place."

The thing is, I want another kid too. I do. I grew up an only child and I always wished for a brother — someone to throw a football with, someone to share the Sunday cookouts with, someone who understood what it was like to be Roberto and Elena's kid. I don't want Sofia to grow up alone. I want her to have what I didn't have.

But another kid means more money, more time, more logistics on a fire schedule that already strains us. It means Jessica carrying the household alone during my shifts with two children instead of one. It means the pool-versus-smoker debate gets shelved for another three years. It means everything gets harder before it gets easier.

I said yes. Of course I said yes. I said it while we were sitting on the back patio after Sofia was asleep, eating leftover carnitas tacos I'd made that afternoon — pork shoulder braised in orange juice and lard with cumin and oregano, then shredded and crisped on the flat-top. The carnitas were perfect. The moment was perfect. Jessica leaned into me and said "I want our kids to grow up around this" — meaning the food, the grill, the patio, the life we've built — "and I want there to be more than one of them to remember it."

I told my dad on Sunday. Not directly — I said "Jessica and I are talking about expanding the roster." He looked at me over his Tecate and said "about time, mijo. One kid is a hobby. Two is a family." My mom, who was standing in the kitchen doorway and eavesdropping as she does, said "Roberto, one child is not a hobby" and my dad said "I was an only child, I know what I'm talking about." They argued about this for ten minutes. I ate carne asada and smiled. This is how good news travels in my family: through food and argument.

I can’t think of a better way to mark that kind of news than the meal that started it all — the one that made Jessica say what she said. Carnitas has always been my celebration food, the dish I reach for when something feels worth honoring, and that Saturday afternoon it earned its place all over again. Here’s exactly how I made them.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 3 hrs 30 min | Total Time: 3 hrs 50 min | Servings: 8 (about 16 tacos)

Ingredients

3 1/2 lbs bone-in pork shoulder, cut into 3-inch chunks
1/3 cup lard (or neutral oil as a substitute)
1 cup fresh orange juice (about 3 oranges)
1/2 cup water
1 1/2 tsp kosher salt, plus more to taste
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp dried Mexican oregano
1/2 tsp black pepper
1/2 tsp garlic powder
4 cloves garlic, smashed
1 white onion, quartered
2 bay leaves
16 small corn tortillas, warmed
White onion, finely diced, for serving
Fresh cilantro, roughly chopped, for serving
Salsa verde or tomatillo salsa, for serving
Lime wedges, for serving

Instructions

Season the pork. Pat the pork shoulder chunks dry with paper towels. In a small bowl, combine salt, cumin, oregano, black pepper, and garlic powder. Rub the spice mixture evenly over all sides of the pork pieces.
Sear the pork. In a large heavy-bottomed Dutch oven or braiser, melt the lard over medium-high heat. Working in batches to avoid crowding, sear the pork pieces on all sides until deeply browned, about 3–4 minutes per side. Transfer seared pieces to a plate and repeat with remaining pork.
Build the braise. Return all pork to the pot. Add the orange juice, water, smashed garlic, quartered onion, and bay leaves. The liquid should come about halfway up the sides of the pork—add a splash more water if needed. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat.
Braise low and slow. Reduce heat to low, cover tightly, and braise for 2 1/2 to 3 hours, turning the pork once at the halfway point, until the meat is completely tender and falling apart when pressed with a fork.
Reduce the braising liquid. Remove the pork to a cutting board. Discard the bay leaves, onion, and garlic from the pot. Increase heat to medium-high and simmer the remaining braising liquid, uncovered, until reduced by about half and slightly syrupy, 8–10 minutes.
Shred the pork. Using two forks or your hands (once cool enough), shred the pork into rough, chunky pieces—not too fine. Discard any large fat caps or bones. Toss the shredded meat with 3–4 tablespoons of the reduced braising liquid to coat and season.
Crisp on the flat-top. Heat a flat-top griddle or large cast iron skillet over high heat until very hot. Spread the shredded carnitas in an even layer without stirring. Let them cook undisturbed for 3–4 minutes until the bottom edges crisp and char in spots, then flip and crisp the other side for 2 more minutes. Work in batches to maintain high heat and avoid steaming the meat.
Warm the tortillas. While the carnitas crisp, warm corn tortillas directly on the griddle or over a gas burner, 30–45 seconds per side, until pliable and lightly charred.
Build the tacos. Double up the tortillas. Top with a generous portion of crispy carnitas, diced white onion, fresh cilantro, and a spoonful of salsa verde. Finish with a squeeze of lime. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving, 2 tacos)

Crispy Carnitas Tacos — The Pork Shoulder Recipe on the Patio the Night We Said Yes to More