Pork Broccoli Stir Fry — The Table That Keeps Growing

I have been baking more lately. The grief work after Mamma is, I think, complete enough that the baking has shifted from defense to celebration. The bread is for the table where Ingrid sits in her high chair. The cookies are for the great-grandchildren who come up for the weekends. The pies are for the friends I have started feeding again. The kitchen is back to its primary function: feeding the living people I love. Elsa and Tom came for the weekend. Tom helped me move the heavy planters in the garden — the big terracotta ones I bought at a yard sale in 1995 that I cannot lift anymore. He did not ask. He just did it. He is the quiet kind of man Paul was. I see why Elsa loves him. The quiet men are not the loudest in the room, but they are usually the most useful. Paul taught me this by example. Tom is teaching it by repetition. Anna had a small surgery. She is fine. I drove to Minneapolis for two weeks to help. I cooked. I cleaned. I cared. Anna said: "Mom, I had forgotten you were a nurse." I said: "I haven't." The thirty-five years at St. Mary's are not the kind of thing that fades. The skills come back at the first request. The hands remember how to take a pulse. The eyes remember how to read a face for pain. The role is permanent. Elsa called. She has met someone. A man named Tom Birch. A canoe guide from Ely. She sounds different on the phone — softer, brighter, a different person on the inside that the phone is registering. I think this might be the one. I have not been right about all of my children's relationships. I am being cautious. But also: I think this might be the one. I cooked Bratwurst with sauerkraut this week. Memorial Day. Independence Day. Erik's grill. Bratwurst from the German butcher in Hermantown. Sauerkraut warmed with caraway. Mustard. Rye buns. Damiano Thursday: a young father came in with two small children. He had not eaten in a day. The children had crackers from a bus station. I gave them three bowls each. They ate without speaking. The father wept silently while he ate. I pretended not to notice. Scandinavian decorum, applied with care. After he left, Gerald and I stood at the pot for a long minute. We did not speak. We knew what we had seen. The pot stayed warm. I miss Erik. I have been missing Erik more than I anticipated. I knew I would miss him, but I had not realized how often the missing would surface — in small specific moments, like noticing the wood pile is low and remembering that he used to chop it for me, or looking at the calendar and seeing the Sunday and knowing he is not coming for dinner. Erik was the closest person to me in space and time. The space and time are now not closed by anyone in particular. The kids fill the gap as they can. The gap is still a gap. It is enough. It has to be. And on a morning like this, with the lake doing what the lake does and the dog at my feet and the bread on the counter and the kitchen warm enough to live in, it is. It is enough.

After Memorial Day and the grill and two weeks in Minneapolis tending to Anna, I wanted something simple that I could pull together on a weeknight without a ceremony — something that still felt like I meant it. This pork and broccoli stir-fry is that kind of dish. It’s quick enough that I don’t have to plan around it, hearty enough that Tom would eat two helpings without saying so, and easy enough to double when Elsa calls and says they’re on their way. The kitchen is back to its primary function, and this is one of the recipes that helps it stay there.

Pork Broccoli Stir Fry

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 1 lb pork tenderloin, thinly sliced against the grain
• 3 cups broccoli florets
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 tablespoon fresh ginger, grated
• 3 tablespoons soy sauce, divided
• 1 tablespoon oyster sauce
• 1 teaspoon sesame oil
• 1 teaspoon sugar
• 1/4 cup low-sodium chicken broth
• 1 tablespoon cornstarch
• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided
• 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)
• Cooked white or brown rice, for serving

Instructions

1. Marinate the pork. In a bowl, combine sliced pork with 1 tablespoon soy sauce and the cornstarch. Toss to coat and let sit for 10 minutes while you prep the remaining ingredients.
2. Make the sauce. In a small bowl, whisk together the remaining 2 tablespoons soy sauce, oyster sauce, sesame oil, sugar, and chicken broth. Set aside.
3. Sear the pork. Heat 1 tablespoon vegetable oil in a large skillet or wok over high heat until shimmering. Add the pork in a single layer and cook without stirring for 2 minutes, then stir-fry until just cooked through, about 2 more minutes. Transfer to a plate.
4. Cook the aromatics and broccoli. Add the remaining tablespoon of oil to the pan. Add garlic and ginger and cook for 30 seconds until fragrant. Add broccoli florets and stir-fry over high heat for 3 to 4 minutes, until bright green and just tender-crisp.
5. Combine and finish. Return the pork to the pan. Pour the sauce over everything and toss to coat. Cook for 1 to 2 minutes until the sauce thickens slightly and everything is heated through. Add red pepper flakes if using.
6. Serve. Spoon over cooked rice and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 285 | Protein: 27g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 15g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 790mg