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Pork Chops in Tomato Sauce — When the Season Does the Seasoning

October 2023. Fall in Memphis, and I am 64, walking the neighborhood in my light jacket, watching the leaves turn on the oaks and maples that line Deadrick Avenue. The smoker is happy in fall — the cooler air holds the smoke lower, keeps it closer to the meat, and the results are always a shade better in October than in July, as if the season itself is a seasoning.

Charlie in Nashville, thriving in the way Charlie thrives — quietly, competently, with the determination of a Johnson woman and the grace of something uniquely hers.

Ribs this week — spare ribs, dry-rubbed, five hours at 225, no foil, no rush. The Memphis way. The bark cracked when I bit into it, and the flavor was layered: smoke first, then spice, then the sweetness of the pork, each layer arriving on its own schedule, patient as a sermon. Rosetta ate two ribs and said nothing negative, which is a standing ovation from the toughest critic in my life.

Sunday at Mt. Zion, the choir sang and I sat in my pew and let the music hold me. The bass notes I used to add are quieter now — my voice is aging, the way everything ages — but the listening is its own participation, and the church holds me the way the church has held this community for a hundred years: faithfully, unconditionally, with room for everyone who shows up. I show up. That is enough.

After a week that moved at its own unhurried pace — five hours tending spare ribs, a Sunday morning spent listening instead of singing, the quiet satisfaction of Rosetta finishing two ribs without complaint — I wanted to carry that same patient energy into the kitchen one more time before the week closed out. Smoked ribs are a weekend commitment; pork chops braised low and slow in tomato sauce are a weeknight gift that still honors the spirit of the thing. There’s something about October that makes braised pork feel exactly right — the sauce reduces down the way the days do, rich and unhurried, and the result is the kind of plate that doesn’t need much explaining.

Pork Chops in Tomato Sauce

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 4 bone-in pork chops (about 3/4 inch thick)
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 small yellow onion, diced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 can (14.5 oz) crushed tomatoes
  • 1/2 cup chicken broth
  • 1 teaspoon dried oregano
  • 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
  • 1 teaspoon sugar
  • Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

  1. Season the chops. Pat pork chops dry with paper towels. Combine salt, pepper, garlic powder, and smoked paprika, then rub evenly over both sides of each chop.
  2. Sear. Heat olive oil in a large, deep skillet over medium-high heat. Sear pork chops 3—4 minutes per side until a golden-brown crust forms. Remove chops from the pan and set aside.
  3. Build the sauce. Reduce heat to medium. Add diced onion to the same pan and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 4 minutes. Add minced garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
  4. Simmer. Pour in crushed tomatoes and chicken broth. Stir in oregano, red pepper flakes, and sugar. Bring to a gentle simmer, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan.
  5. Braise. Nestle the seared pork chops back into the sauce, spooning some sauce over the tops. Cover the skillet and cook on low heat for 25—30 minutes, until the pork is cooked through and tender, reaching an internal temperature of 145°F.
  6. Rest and serve. Remove from heat and let rest 5 minutes. Garnish with fresh parsley and serve over rice, egg noodles, or with crusty bread to catch the sauce.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 31g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 9g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 620mg

Earl Johnson
About the cook who shared this
Earl Johnson
Week 393 of Earl’s 30-year story · Memphis, Tennessee
Earl "Big E" Johnson is a sixty-seven-year-old retired postal carrier, a forty-two-year husband, and a Memphis BBQ legend who learned to smoke pork shoulder at his Uncle Clyde's stand when he was eleven years old. He lost his daughter Denise to sickle cell disease at twenty-three, and he honors her every year by smoking her favorite meal on her birthday and setting a plate at the table. His dry rub uses sixteen spices he keeps in a mayonnaise jar. He will not share the recipe. Not even with Rosetta.

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