By Thirty-one. December first. Mom made a chocolate cake. Patrick ate a piece small. He fell asleep in the chair with his fork in his hand. I covered him with the blanket and went outside.
Single. Running a ranch. Caring for an ailing father. Making a living with horses. My life looks nothing like the lives of the kids I went to high school with. I do not think about this much.
I cooked myself a ribeye Sunday for the birthday. Salt and pepper. Cast iron at high heat. Three minutes per side. Rest. The ribeye was the ribeye. The kitchen was the kitchen.
Seven years sober next month. The counting has shifted from days to years. I do not romanticize it. The discipline is the discipline.
The cattle pulled in close to the windbreaks. They know what is coming.
Stopped at the hardware store in Roundup Wednesday. Sam at the counter asked about the cattle. I asked about his knee. We talked for ten minutes about nothing. Necessary nothing.
Patrick on the porch in the afternoon. The cottonwoods moved. He watched. He nodded once when I came in. The nodding was the saying.
The dog was the dog. Hank works. He sleeps. He works again. The cattle dog math is the math.
Listened to the AM ag report Tuesday morning. Wheat futures up. Cattle prices flat. The talk was the talk.
Tuesday meeting in Roundup. Quiet room this week. Two new guys. Three vets, including me, sat on the back row.
Drove the back roads Saturday. Did not think much. Came home. The truck was warm. The radio was off.
Cooked simple this week. The kitchen does not mind simple. The body does not mind simple. The work and the food and the dark sky.
Worked the south fence line Saturday morning. Two posts down from snow load. Set them back up. Tightened the wire. The fence held the rest of the day.
The Tuesday meeting was eight regulars. Same as always. The coffee was strong. The room was the room.
Two days of farrier work this week. Eight horses. The body is tired in the right way.
The biscuits were biscuits Sunday morning. Same recipe. Same skillet. Same butter and honey. Some things do not change.
Drove past the cottonwood spot by the river Tuesday afternoon. Did not stop. Some weeks I stop. Most weeks I drive past. Both are visiting.
Tom Whelan came over Sunday afternoon. We sat. We did not say much. The cottonwoods moved in the wind. The river ran. The week held.
Saturday I worked the chute. Vaccinations on the calves. Slow methodical work. The body knew what to do.
The cattle were good this week. The horses were good. The body was tired in the right way. The kind of tired that sleep fixes.
Wrote a short post Friday night. Three paragraphs about cooking outside. Posted it. Forgot it. The blog is the blog.
Stood under the sky after dinner. The Milky Way was a band across. The work for tomorrow was set. The work after that. The work always.
Gary called Wednesday afternoon to check in. Nothing in particular. Just checking. We talked twelve minutes. He is the broth, even now.
Repaired the latch on the gate to the corral Wednesday. Welder. Twenty minutes. Done. The gate had been bothering me for a month.
Stood at the kitchen window with coffee at five-thirty AM. The yard dark. The horses in the corral. The work ahead. The standard morning.
The mail came late this week. Friday instead of Wednesday. The new carrier is figuring it out. He waved when he dropped the bills.
The ribeye on Sunday was the right call—salt, pepper, cast iron, done—but birthdays have a way of stretching past the day itself, and by midweek I was still feeling like the year deserved a second look. The pork tenderloin is what I made when I wanted something that took a little more intention without asking more than I had left in me after the fence posts and the farrier work. The three-berry salsa was the color the week needed—not loud, just present, the way the cottonwoods moving in the wind are present.
Pork Tenderloin with Three-Berry Salsa
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs pork tenderloin, trimmed
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/2 cup fresh blueberries
- 1/2 cup fresh raspberries
- 1/2 cup fresh strawberries, hulled and diced
- 2 tablespoons red onion, finely minced
- 1 tablespoon fresh jalapeño, seeded and minced (optional)
- 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
- 1 tablespoon honey
- 2 tablespoons fresh cilantro or flat-leaf parsley, chopped
- Pinch of salt for salsa
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat oven to 425°F. Let pork tenderloin rest at room temperature for 10 minutes while you prepare the salsa and season the meat.
- Make the berry salsa. Combine blueberries, raspberries, and strawberries in a bowl. Add red onion, jalapeño if using, lime juice, honey, and herbs. Stir gently so the berries hold their shape. Season with a pinch of salt. Set aside at room temperature to let the flavors come together.
- Season the pork. Pat the tenderloin dry with paper towels. Rub all over with olive oil, then coat evenly with salt, pepper, garlic powder, and smoked paprika.
- Sear the tenderloin. Heat a cast iron or oven-safe skillet over medium-high heat until hot. Sear the tenderloin 2–3 minutes per side, turning to brown all surfaces, about 8 minutes total.
- Roast to finish. Transfer the skillet to the preheated oven. Roast 15–18 minutes, until an instant-read thermometer reads 145°F at the thickest point.
- Rest the meat. Remove from oven and let the tenderloin rest on a cutting board for 5 minutes. The resting is not optional—it keeps the juice in the meat.
- Slice and serve. Slice the tenderloin into 1/2-inch medallions. Spoon the three-berry salsa generously over the top. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 36g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 480mg