Pork Chops with Sliced Pears -- Mama’s Table, Any Gathering

May warmup. The trout lilies along the path. Worked at the construction company in Lexington this week. The body holds. Most days.

Connie at the vet clinic, four shifts this week. Her back is tired. She does not say so. I see it. Mama is 86. She is the toughest person I have ever known. She still cooks every day in the company house in Evarts.

Baked ham with brown sugar glaze. The standard for any gathering.

Travis called Tuesday. The landscaping company is busy. He sounds tired in a good way. Amber called from Louisville. Hospital is busy. Floor nurse to charge nurse to nurse manager — she is the most successful Hensley alive.

The week held. The mountains were the mountains.

The creek was running clear Sunday afternoon. I watched a kingfisher work the riffle. Did not move for an hour. Some Sundays the watching is the worship.

Connie made jam Saturday afternoon. Wild blackberries from the patch up the hollow. Twelve jars. The pantry is filling for winter.

The neighbor up the road — Old Roy, eighty-seven, lives alone — had a small heart scare. We took him soup beans Tuesday. Cornbread too. He cried a little when he ate. We all cry over soup beans eventually.

Connie read aloud from a novel Tuesday evening while I worked on the bench. Some Appalachian writer she had picked up at the library in Whitesburg. The voice was the voice of where we live. We listened together.

The dog — old Beau, fifteen years old — slept by the wood stove all afternoon Tuesday. He used to be a hunting dog. Now he is a heating pad with opinions.

Connie cut my hair on the porch Tuesday afternoon. She has been cutting my hair for forty years. The barber in Pineville cannot do what Connie does, which is also love.

Worked on a basement remodel job in Lexington. The work was good. The pay was good. The body is tired.

I split a half-cord of wood Saturday. Slowly. The back does not let me work fast anymore. It got done. The wood was for the smokehouse.

I checked the truck oil Saturday. The mileage on this truck is criminal.

I went up to Earl's grave at the Evarts cemetery Saturday. Brought a beer. Drank half. Poured the rest on the dirt. Some traditions are mine alone.

Sunday service at Harlan First Baptist when we go. Pastor preached about Ruth and Boaz. The choir sang. Connie wore her gray dress.

Travis sent a photo of Earl Thomas riding on the mower with him at a job site. The boy is wearing a Hensley Landscaping T-shirt that's too big. Three generations on a mower. I saved the photo.

Drove the truck to the dump Saturday afternoon. Saw three deer crossing the road on the way back. The mountains have been giving back this year.

Drove to Pineville for parts Wednesday. The hardware store man knew me. We talked about the weather and the price of feed. Forty minutes for a five-minute errand. That is rural Kentucky.

I sat at the kitchen table Tuesday night working on the recipe project. Mama's soup beans. I cannot get the words right yet.

Amber sent the kids' school photos this week. Nadia is taller every year. Marcus has Amber's serious face. Little Betty has Mama's eyes.

My back was tight after the wood-splitting Saturday. Took an Aleve. Slept eight hours. Got up.

Read the paper at breakfast Tuesday. The county news is not great. The mines have not come back and they will not come back. The young people leave. The hollows empty. We stay.

Mama still cooks every day in Evarts, and when I think about what holds a table together — what makes people sit down and stay a while — it’s always something slow and savory, something with a little sweetness cut through the salt. These pork chops with sliced pears carry that same spirit as the brown sugar glaze Mama puts on her ham: fruit against pork, warmth against a tired week. After splitting wood, driving for parts, and watching Old Roy cry over soup beans, I needed something that felt like a gathering even when it was just the two of us.

Pork Chops with Sliced Pears

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 4 bone-in pork chops (about 3/4 inch thick)
• 2 ripe pears, cored and sliced 1/4 inch thick
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 tablespoon brown sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/2 cup low-sodium chicken broth
• 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)

Instructions

1. Season the chops. Pat pork chops dry with paper towels. Combine garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper in a small bowl and rub evenly over both sides of each chop.
2. Sear the pork. Heat olive oil in a large oven-safe skillet over medium-high heat. Add pork chops and sear 3–4 minutes per side until deep golden brown. Transfer chops to a plate and set aside.
3. Cook the pears. Reduce heat to medium. Add butter to the same skillet. Once melted, add pear slices, brown sugar, and cinnamon. Cook 2–3 minutes, stirring gently, until pears begin to soften and caramelize.
4. Deglaze and simmer. Pour in the chicken broth and add thyme. Stir to lift any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Nestle the pork chops back into the skillet among the pears.
5. Finish on the stovetop. Cover and cook over medium-low heat 10–12 minutes, or until an instant-read thermometer inserted in the thickest part reads 145°F.
6. Rest and serve. Remove from heat and let rest 5 minutes. Spoon pears and pan juices over chops before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 370 | Protein: 32g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 480mg