Mexican Pork Stew

October arrives and Hartford puts on its best performance — the maples turning orange and red along Prospect Avenue, the air crisp enough to justify the sweaters I have been wanting to wear since August, the particular quality of October light that makes everything look like it was painted by someone who loves this city more than it deserves. I do not say this as criticism. Hartford is a complicated place to love, the way all home places are complicated. It is not Bayamón. It will never be Bayamón. But it has been mine for thirty-one years, and the trees know me, and I know them, and in October we understand each other.

The wedding preparations have consumed the house. The dining room table — the one that seats twelve but regularly holds sixteen — is currently covered in place cards, seating charts, and a list of dietary restrictions that Rosa compiled with the thoroughness of a woman who has spent her career managing children with allergies. Gluten-free for Carlos's aunt. No shellfish for Jenny's mother. Vegetarian for Rosa's college friend Amy, who Rosa says has been vegetarian for six years and I say has not yet had my pernil, but I will respect her choices while privately mourning them.

I tested the wedding menu this week — a full dry run in the new kitchen, the kitchen that was built for exactly this kind of operation. Two pork shoulders, marinating in the refrigerator since Monday. Arroz con gandules — eighty servings means four of my largest pots, running simultaneously, which is a logistical challenge I have solved by mapping the stovetop the way a general maps a battlefield. Tostones for one hundred, which means approximately twelve plantains per batch and roughly fourteen batches, which means I will be standing at the stove for three hours pressing plantains and I will love every minute of it. Ensalada de coditos. Habichuelas. David's tres leches for dessert. My flan. The food will be perfect because I will make it perfect, and I will make it perfect because this is my daughter's wedding and my daughter deserves perfection.

Eduardo watched me map the kitchen timeline on a legal pad and said, You could command an army. I said, I do command an army. It is called the Hartford Hospital food service department. He said, You are terrifying. I said, Thank you.

When I talk about pork shoulders marinating since Monday, I am talking about love expressed as preparation — the same instinct that drives this Mexican pork stew, which I have leaned on in the weeks between big cooking events to keep my hands busy and my family fed. It is not pernil; nothing is pernil except pernil. But the low-and-slow patience, the layered spice, the way the meat surrenders into something tender and deeply flavored — it speaks the same language. After three days of mapping stovetops like a general and pressing fourteen batches of tostones in my head before I even picked up a plantain, this is the recipe I cook for myself, to remind myself that the fundamentals are solid and the wedding is going to be magnificent.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 1 hr 30 min | Total Time: 1 hr 50 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs pork shoulder, cut into 1 1/2-inch cubes
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium white onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 jalapeño peppers, seeded and minced
1 tablespoon chili powder
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
1 can (15 oz) hominy, drained and rinsed
2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
Salt and black pepper to taste
Fresh cilantro and lime wedges, for serving

Instructions

Season and sear. Pat pork cubes dry with paper towels and season generously with salt and pepper. Heat olive oil in a large Dutch oven or heavy pot over medium-high heat. Working in batches, sear pork on all sides until deeply browned, about 3–4 minutes per batch. Transfer to a plate and set aside.
Build the base. Reduce heat to medium. Add onion to the same pot and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and jalapeños and cook 1 minute more, until fragrant.
Bloom the spices. Stir in chili powder, cumin, smoked paprika, oregano, and cayenne. Cook for 30 seconds, stirring constantly, until the spices are fragrant and toasted.
Combine and simmer. Return seared pork to the pot. Add diced tomatoes with their juices, drained hominy, and chicken broth. Stir to combine. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 1 hour to 1 hour 15 minutes, until pork is fork-tender.
Finish and adjust. Stir in lime juice. Taste and adjust salt, pepper, or lime as needed. If the stew is thinner than you like, simmer uncovered for 10–15 minutes to reduce slightly.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh cilantro. Serve with lime wedges and warm tortillas or crusty bread on the side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Mexican Pork Stew — The Dry Run That Proved the Kitchen Was Ready