Pork Roast with Plum Sauce

Two clients in two days announced they're closing — small Vietnamese restaurants in Bellaire that have been my customers for over a decade. The first owner, Mr. Phuong, called Monday: lease tripled, son uninterested in taking over, retiring to Vietnam. The second, Mrs. Loan, came by the office Tuesday with a box of bánh chưng she'd made herself and tears she pretended weren't tears. Twenty-three years she'd run that place. I drove to her restaurant Wednesday, walked the kitchen one last time, made notes on which equipment she could sell back and which she should give away. She gave me her wok. The big one. Carbon steel, seasoned almost black, used for tens of thousands of meals. I put it in my truck and drove home with my throat tight.

This is what restaurant supply work has been for thirty years — building kitchens and then watching them close. The rate of closures has accelerated since COVID. The rents in Houston are not what they were. The next generation doesn't want the eighteen-hour days. The math stops working. And Mrs. Loan's wok ends up in my garage waiting for me to figure out what to do with it.

Used the wok Friday. Vietnamese stir-fried morning glory with garlic and fish sauce and a little bit of crushed dried chili — the rau muống xào tỏi that every Vietnamese household makes and every Vietnamese household claims theirs is best. Mine isn't best. Mai's is best. But Mrs. Loan's wok did something my wok hasn't done in years — that intense, almost smoky char on the greens that comes only from a wok that's been seasoned by twenty thousand stir-fries before yours. The wok carries the past. The greens taste like the people who came before. I ate the morning glory and thought about Mrs. Loan and the lease and the son who didn't want it and the bánh chưng on my counter that I wouldn't finish in time. I ate slow. I let the meal take its time. Time is what restaurants don't have. Time is what I'm about to have, in seventy-three days.

Mrs. Loan’s wok is sitting in my garage, and I’m not ready to use it again yet — not for something quick. What I needed after that week was a recipe that demanded patience, something that roasted low and slow and filled the house with a smell that said someone lives here. A pork roast glazed with plum sauce isn’t Vietnamese, but the plum carries something familiar — sweet, a little dark, the kind of flavor that tastes like it’s been somewhere. I made this on Sunday with the bánh chưng still on the counter, and I let it take the full two hours without rushing a single thing.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 1 hr 45 min | Total Time: 2 hrs | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 boneless pork loin roast (about 3 lbs)
1 cup plum jam or plum sauce
3 tablespoons soy sauce
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon fresh ginger, grated
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1 tablespoon rice vinegar
1/2 teaspoon five-spice powder
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
Salt and black pepper to taste

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 325°F (165°C). Pat the pork roast dry with paper towels and season generously on all sides with salt and black pepper.
Make the plum glaze. In a small saucepan over medium-low heat, combine the plum jam, soy sauce, minced garlic, grated ginger, brown sugar, rice vinegar, five-spice powder, and red pepper flakes. Stir and simmer for 5 minutes until slightly thickened. Remove from heat and set aside half the glaze for serving.
Sear the roast. Heat the vegetable oil in a large oven-safe skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Sear the pork roast on all sides until golden brown, about 3–4 minutes per side. Don’t rush this step — the crust is worth it.
Glaze and roast. Brush the roast generously with the plum glaze. Transfer the skillet to the preheated oven. Roast uncovered, brushing with additional glaze every 30 minutes, until an internal thermometer reads 145°F, about 1 hour 30 minutes to 1 hour 45 minutes depending on thickness.
Rest before slicing. Remove from the oven and tent loosely with foil. Let the roast rest for at least 10 minutes — this is not the step to skip. The juices need the time.
Serve. Slice against the grain into 1/2-inch portions. Warm the reserved plum glaze and spoon over the top before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Pork Roast with Plum Sauce — The Kitchen That Closes and the Meal That Stays