Mojito Pulled Pork

Late April. Real spring. The kind where you can open the windows and the house forgives you for keeping them closed since October. I opened every window on Wednesday and the cross-breeze moved through the house for the first time in six months, and the curtains swayed, and Eduardo's newspaper blew off the coffee table, and he complained and I laughed and he knew he was being asked to accept it and he did.

I made arroz con pollo. The everyday version — not the Sunday-dinner version with bone-in chicken and saffron-colored rice, but the Tuesday version, with boneless thighs and canned olives and gandules and whatever sofrito was at the top of the ice cube tray. Arroz con pollo is the dish that, if you cook Puerto Rican food, you can make in your sleep. I can make it in my sleep. Eduardo has watched me make it in my sleep. He says I make it better in my sleep than most people make it awake.

Sofía came over Wednesday with her nursing school supply list. Stethoscope, blood pressure cuff, four sets of scrubs, the textbook list that would require a wheelbarrow. Eduardo and I wrote the check together. I put the receipt in my "Sofía" file, which is where all her school paperwork lives, next to Rosa's and Miguel Jr.'s and David's, each folder thick with the history of an education I paid for a piece at a time. Four educations. Four degrees. This is the Delgado project.

Mami came Friday. Good day. Lucid. She told me a story about Ana — my sister in Bridgeport, not my sister from San Juan — when Ana was six years old and tried to bake a cake using motor oil because she had confused the bottles. The cake exploded in the oven. Mami cleaned up motor oil off the ceiling for a week. Mami laughed telling the story, the real laugh, the one that used to fill the concrete block house, and she has not laughed like that in months. I did not want the story to end.

Saturday I called Ana and told her Mami had told the motor oil story. Ana laughed and said, "I was five, not six, and it was Crisco, not motor oil, and I put too much baking soda in, which is why it exploded." I said, "Ana, the story changes, but it is still you." We laughed for a while. Then Ana said, "How is she?" Meaning Mami. I said, "She is here." Which is not a full answer. But it is what I have. Wepa.

Arroz con pollo is the dish I can make in my sleep, and I did—but the pulled pork I made that same week is the one I want to leave you with, because it carries the same spirit: citrus, garlic, something bright cutting through something rich, the whole house smelling like a place you want to stay. When Sofía left with her supply list and Eduardo had accepted the cross-breeze and Mami had given me that real laugh, the laugh from the concrete block house—I wanted a recipe that matched all of it. This mojito pulled pork is the one. Make it low and slow, open your windows, and let it fill the rooms.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 8 hrs | Total Time: 8 hrs 20 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

4 lbs boneless pork shoulder, trimmed
1/2 cup fresh lime juice (about 5 limes)
1/4 cup fresh orange juice
3 tablespoons white rum
1/4 cup fresh mint leaves, roughly chopped, plus more for serving
6 garlic cloves, minced
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon dried oregano
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1 medium yellow onion, sliced
Lime wedges and fresh mint, for serving

Instructions

Make the marinade. In a bowl, whisk together the lime juice, orange juice, rum, mint, garlic, cumin, oregano, olive oil, salt, and pepper until combined.
Marinate the pork. Place the pork shoulder in a large zip-top bag or covered dish. Pour the marinade over the pork, turning to coat on all sides. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or overnight for best flavor.
Prepare the slow cooker. Scatter the sliced onion across the bottom of your slow cooker. Remove the pork from the marinade, reserving the liquid, and set the pork on top of the onions.
Add the marinade. Pour the reserved marinade over and around the pork.
Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 8 hours, or on HIGH for 4 to 5 hours, until the pork is fork-tender and pulls apart easily.
Shred and finish. Transfer the pork to a cutting board and shred with two forks. Return the shredded pork to the slow cooker and stir it into the cooking juices. Taste and adjust salt if needed.
Serve. Pile the pork onto plates or rolls. Scatter fresh mint over the top and serve with lime wedges alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Mojito Pulled Pork — Caribbean on a Weeknight, Just Like Mami Made Room For