Orange-Ginger Pork Chops

Mid-July deep heat. The smoker compound is operating on the dawn schedule now — fires lit at 4 AM, briskets pulled by 1 PM. The neighborhood has adjusted. Mr. Washington and I have a wave-and-no-words protocol from across the fence at 5 AM. We respect each other's solitude. We respect the smoke. He goes back to whatever he's doing. I go back to mine.

The blog has gotten busier since the Chronicle review. People have figured out that "Bobby Tran" the retired restaurant supply guy and "Bobby Tran" the silent partner behind Smoke and Nuoc Mam are the same Bobby Tran they've been reading on the website for nine years. The comments on the posts have changed. Used to be other men asking practical questions about smoker temperatures and brisket trim. Now there are also young Vietnamese-American kids commenting things like "thank you for showing me my food belongs in BBQ" and "my dad's family also fled in 75 and your story is my dad's story." I read those late at night. I don't respond to all of them. I respond to some. I print the best ones and put them in a folder in my desk because they are heavier than the silver plaque the company gave me at retirement.

Made a smoked beef rib Saturday — single rib, bone-in, dinosaur-sized, the kind of cut that looks like a prop from a Flintstones cartoon. Rubbed it with Mr. Clarence's rub plus a hit of five-spice powder, smoked it for ten hours over post oak with a chunk of pecan, finished it with a brushing of fish-sauce caramel. Sliced it at the kitchen counter. The meat was pink in the middle, the bark dark, the fat rendered. Ate two slices alone. Brought the rest in Tupperware to Lily and James at the restaurant. James tasted it. He said, "Bobby, the five-spice. We need to put this on the menu." I said, "It's your menu." He said, "It's our menu." That's the new language now. Our.

James calling it “our menu” has been sitting with me all week — that single word doing more work than a whole paragraph could. When I want to cook something that lives in that same in-between space, something that doesn’t ask permission from either tradition, I come back to these Orange-Ginger Pork Chops. The orange brings the brightness my mother’s cooking always reached for; the ginger is the bridge between her kitchen and mine; and the whole thing comes together fast enough that you can make it on a Tuesday and still feel like you meant it. For the Vietnamese-American kids leaving comments late at night — this one is also for you.

Prep Time: 15 min (plus 30 min marinating) | Cook Time: 14 min | Total Time: 59 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 bone-in pork chops, about 1 inch thick (roughly 8 oz each)
1/2 cup fresh orange juice (from about 2 navel oranges)
1 tablespoon orange zest
2 tablespoons fresh ginger, finely grated
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 tablespoons low-sodium soy sauce
2 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoon sesame oil
1 teaspoon rice wine vinegar
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon neutral oil (canola or avocado), for the pan
2 green onions, thinly sliced, for garnish
1 teaspoon toasted sesame seeds, for garnish

Instructions

Make the marinade. In a bowl or large zip-lock bag, whisk together the orange juice, orange zest, ginger, garlic, soy sauce, honey, sesame oil, rice wine vinegar, and red pepper flakes until the honey is fully dissolved.
Marinate the chops. Season pork chops lightly with salt and pepper, then add them to the marinade. Seal and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes and up to 4 hours. The longer they sit, the deeper the ginger and citrus will penetrate the meat.
Bring to room temperature. Remove the chops from the refrigerator 15 minutes before cooking. Pat them dry with paper towels and reserve the marinade separately.
Sear the chops. Heat neutral oil in a large heavy skillet (cast iron preferred) over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add the chops without crowding. Sear undisturbed for 5 to 6 minutes until a deep golden crust forms, then flip and cook another 5 to 6 minutes until the internal temperature reads 145°F at the thickest point.
Build the glaze. While the chops finish cooking, pour the reserved marinade into a small saucepan over medium heat. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a brisk simmer for 3 to 4 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the glaze thickens enough to coat a spoon. Do not skip this step — boiling the marinade makes it safe to use as a sauce.
Rest and glaze. Transfer the cooked chops to a cutting board or plate and let them rest, loosely tented with foil, for 5 minutes. Spoon or brush the warm glaze generously over each chop.
Garnish and serve. Scatter sliced green onions and sesame seeds over the top. Serve immediately with steamed jasmine rice or roasted vegetables to catch the extra glaze.

Nutrition (per serving)

Orange-Ginger Pork Chops — The New Language of “Our” Table