Paul saw the specialist on Tuesday. An orthopedic surgeon in Duluth, Dr. Keegan, who examined his hand and wrist and ordered a nerve conduction study and an electromyography — EMG. The tests are scheduled for next week.
Paul came home and told me this in the same factual tone he uses for everything — the same tone he'd use to tell me the school board voted on something or the ore boats are running late. "They're going to test the nerves," he said. "See if there's compression." I said, "That's standard for carpal tunnel." He said, "That's what the doctor said." We nodded at each other. Two people pretending a nerve conduction study is a routine thing, which it is, unless the results show something that isn't routine.
I know what an EMG can find. I know the things beyond carpal tunnel that cause hand clumsiness and fasciculations in a sixty-year-old man. The list is short and I won't write it here because writing it would make it real and I'm not ready for real. I'm ready for carpal tunnel.
I threw myself into the garden this week the way you throw yourself into anything that requires physical attention and not mental attention. I canned eight pints of marinara from the Roma tomatoes. I pickled cucumbers — twelve jars. I made zucchini relish, a recipe I got from a woman at church twenty years ago, tangy and sweet and perfect on bratwurst. The pantry is filling. The shelves are lined with jars. The work is satisfying in the way that preparing for winter is always satisfying — you're banking food against the dark, storing summer in glass.
Sophie called to ask about my marinara recipe. She's cooking more — her sophomore year starts in two weeks and she's determined to eat real food this year instead of dining hall food. I gave her the recipe over the phone, and when I got to the part about simmering for two hours, she said, "Two hours? Grandma, I'm a college student." I said, "Simmer for one hour. But know that you're compromising." She laughed. I love her laugh. It sounds like Anna's, which sounds like mine, which probably sounds like Mamma's, though I've never thought about it before.
I made a comfort dinner: pork chops, breaded and pan-fried in butter, with applesauce from the pantry and mashed potatoes. Mamma's pork chops — the ones she made every Wednesday because Wednesdays were pork chop day in the Johansson house, not by decree but by habit, and habit in a Swedish household becomes law within three repetitions.
Paul ate two pork chops. He cut them with his right hand. His left hand held the fork. The fork was steady. I watched. I always watch now. The watching is exhausting. The not-watching is impossible.
Next week: the EMG. After that, we'll know. After that, I'll stop saying "probably."
I’ve been leaning hard on the kind of cooking that doesn’t require decisions — just time and heat and trust that something good will come out the other end. The breaded pork chops were Mamma’s Wednesday ritual, but when I need a meal that will hold the whole house together through a long uncertain week, I come back to this pork pot roast: low and slow, filling the kitchen with something warm before anyone even sits down. It’s the same instinct that sent me to the garden and the canning jars — bank something solid against the dark.
Pork Pot Roast
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 2 hours 30 minutes | Total Time: 2 hours 50 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 3 to 3 1/2 lbs boneless pork shoulder roast
- 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
- 3/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
- 1 large yellow onion, roughly chopped
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 3 medium carrots, cut into 2-inch pieces
- 3 stalks celery, cut into 2-inch pieces
- 3 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, quartered
- 1 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken or pork broth
- 1/2 cup apple cider
- 2 tablespoons tomato paste
- 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
- 2 sprigs fresh thyme (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
- 1 bay leaf
Instructions
- Preheat and season. Preheat your oven to 325°F. Pat the pork roast dry with paper towels. Combine the salt, pepper, garlic powder, and smoked paprika, then rub the mixture evenly over all sides of the roast.
- Sear the roast. Heat the vegetable oil in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Sear the pork roast on all sides until deeply browned, about 3 to 4 minutes per side. Transfer the roast to a plate and set aside.
- Build the base. Reduce heat to medium. Add the chopped onion and celery to the pot and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 4 minutes. Add the minced garlic and tomato paste and cook for 1 minute more, stirring to coat.
- Deglaze and combine. Pour in the apple cider and scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot. Stir in the broth and Worcestershire sauce. Nestle the seared pork roast back into the pot. Tuck in the carrots, potatoes, thyme sprigs, and bay leaf around the roast.
- Braise low and slow. Bring the liquid to a gentle simmer, then cover the pot with a tight-fitting lid and transfer to the oven. Roast for 2 hours to 2 hours 30 minutes, or until the pork is very tender and pulls apart easily with a fork.
- Rest and serve. Remove from the oven and discard the bay leaf and thyme sprigs. Let the roast rest, covered, for 10 minutes before slicing or pulling. Serve with the braised vegetables and spoon the pan juices generously over everything.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 420 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 520mg
About the cook who shared this
Linda Johansson
Week 72 of Linda’s 30-year story
· Duluth, Minnesota
Linda is a sixty-three-year-old retired nurse from Duluth, Minnesota, living alone in the house where she raised her children and said goodbye to her husband. She lost Paul to ALS in 2020 after two years of watching the kindest man she'd ever known lose everything but his dignity. She cooks Scandinavian comfort food and Minnesota hotdish and the pot roast Paul loved, and she sets two places at the table out of habit because it makes her feel less alone. Every recipe she writes is a person she's loved.