Guinness Barbecued Pork Tips

Mother's Day. I called Betty at seven in the morning because she's been up since five — she's always been up since five, even now at seventy-six with nobody to cook breakfast for but herself. She answered on the first ring and said "I knew it was you." I said happy Mother's Day and she said "Every day's Mother's Day when you've got six children who call." I asked if all six had called. She said Earl Jr. called last night, Dale called at six, my sister Patsy called at six-thirty, and she was waiting on Linda and Bobby. I was third. I'm always third. The birth order holds even in phone calls.

Connie and I have been married twenty-five years this October. Twenty-five years. That's longer than some civilizations lasted. I was twenty-three when I married her, six weeks after I walked out of that mine alive, and she was the reason I walked out. That sounds dramatic and I don't care. It's true. When the tunnel collapsed and I was sitting in the dark with three other men and seventeen hours of not knowing if we'd breathe again, I thought about Connie standing at the mine entrance. I thought about how I'd never told her I loved her. I made a deal with God and God kept His end and I kept mine and here we are, twenty-five years later, in a house in Lexington where she makes me see the doctor for my back and I make her eat fried chicken she doesn't need.

For Mother's Day, I made Connie her favorite: pork chops and applesauce. Not fancy pork chops — bone-in, center cut, about an inch thick. You season them with salt and pepper, nothing else. You heat a cast iron skillet with a little oil until it's almost smoking. You sear the chops three minutes per side. Then you put them in the oven at 375 for about fifteen minutes until they hit 145 inside. The trick is not overcooking them. Connie's mother used to cook pork chops until they were leather because her generation was terrified of trichinosis, but trichinosis hasn't been a thing since the 1950s, so we can stop punishing the pig.

The applesauce is Betty's: peel and core four or five apples — any kind, Betty used whatever fell off the tree — cut them up, put them in a pot with a little water and a spoonful of sugar and a pinch of cinnamon. Cook until they fall apart. Mash with a fork. That's it. No food processor, no blender. Betty didn't own a food processor. Betty barely owned a blender. Betty had a fork and a strong arm and that was sufficient.

Clay gave Connie a card he bought at Walgreens and a bag of M&Ms, which is exactly the amount of effort a fifteen-year-old boy puts into Mother's Day and which Connie accepted with the grace of a woman who has lowered her expectations appropriately. Amber sent flowers — real flowers, delivered, which cost money she doesn't have and which made Connie cry in the kitchen. Travis came by with a potted plant that was already dying, which Connie put on the porch and watered every day for a week until it died completely, at which point she said "Travis tried" and threw it away. Love takes many forms.

I think about mothers a lot. Betty, who fed eight people on a miner's salary. Connie, who held our family together through a mine collapse and a drinking problem and a career change and a back injury. Mothers are the infrastructure of families — invisible when everything works, catastrophic when they fail. I don't say this enough. I should say this more. Happy Mother's Day, Betty. Happy Mother's Day, Connie. You built everything that matters.

Connie’s pork chops and Betty’s applesauce are a tradition I won’t touch — some recipes belong to specific hands and specific days. But pork has always been the meat of our people, the thing you cook when you want to say something without saying it, and these Guinness Barbecued Pork Tips carry that same spirit: no pretense, nothing precious, just low heat and time and something dark and honest in the pot. If you want to feed someone you love — really feed them — this is how you start.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 2 hrs 30 min | Total Time: 2 hrs 45 min | Servings: 4–6

Ingredients

2 1/2 lbs pork tips (or rib tips), cut into 2-inch pieces
1 can (14.9 oz) Guinness stout
1 cup ketchup
1/4 cup brown sugar, packed
2 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
1 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp onion powder
1 tsp smoked paprika
1/2 tsp black pepper
1 tsp kosher salt
1 tbsp neutral oil (vegetable or canola)

Instructions

Season the pork. Pat pork tips dry with paper towels. Season all over with salt, pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, and smoked paprika. Let rest at room temperature for 10 minutes while you make the sauce.
Make the Guinness BBQ sauce. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, combine the Guinness, ketchup, brown sugar, Worcestershire sauce, and apple cider vinegar. Stir well and bring to a gentle simmer. Cook uncovered for 12–15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until slightly thickened. Remove from heat and set aside.
Sear the pork. Heat oil in a large oven-safe skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat until shimmering. Working in batches if needed, sear pork tips 2–3 minutes per side until deeply browned. Do not crowd the pan. Return all pieces to the pot.
Braise low and slow. Pour the Guinness BBQ sauce over the seared pork tips and stir to coat. Bring to a simmer, then cover tightly and reduce heat to low. Cook for 1 hour 45 minutes to 2 hours, turning the pork once halfway through, until the meat is fork-tender and pulling away from any bone.
Finish and glaze. Remove the lid, increase heat to medium, and cook an additional 10–12 minutes uncovered, stirring gently, until the sauce reduces and coats the pork in a thick, glossy glaze.
Rest and serve. Remove from heat and let rest 5 minutes before serving. Spoon extra sauce from the pan over the top. Serve over white rice, with cornbread, or alongside whatever sides the people you’re feeding actually want.

Nutrition (per serving)

Guinness Barbecued Pork Tips — The Pork That Feeds the People You Love