By Post-Thanksgiving week. The quiet after. The refrigerator still mostly full of leftovers. The house still smelled like turkey Monday. I drove a Lincoln run Tuesday, an Omaha run Thursday-Friday. Easy weeks. Short. I have been taking shorter runs and I am thinking about whether to officially cut my hours in 2023. I need to talk to Marcy. I need to talk to Dave. I have eleven years to retirement, and I am 45, and I am tired in a way that is accumulating. I do not want to hit 55 and be broken. I want to hit 55 and walk into Darla's on opening day with some joints left.
Cookbook is at 310,000. Sarah says 350,000 by Christmas still looks right.
Dave's back had a bad Tuesday. He could not get out of bed without help. I drove him to the chiropractor. The chiropractor helped temporarily. Dave said nothing else about it the rest of the week. He pretends his back is fine. I pretend to pretend. This is the dance. Someday the dance will end. Not this year. I hope not next.
Gayle came over for dinner Wednesday. She ate a small plate. She said, "I am not very hungry lately." I said, "Ma." She said, "I am fine. I am 79. I am smaller." I said, "Eat more, Ma." She said, "I will try." I have asked her to come in for a checkup. She has agreed for "sometime in December." I am going to hold her to it.
Sunday was the first Sunday of Advent. I put the little wreath on the table. Four candles, three purple one pink. Dave lit the first one at dinner. Josie said the prayer; she knows it from school. "Come, Lord Jesus." Simple. Right. I thought about Larry for a moment. I thought about Darla for a moment. I let the thoughts move through me. I ate my pot roast. Christmas is coming. Another year almost gone. Another year of the kitchen.
The pot roast on that first Advent Sunday did what good food always does — it held us together at the table while a candle burned and Josie said her prayer and I let myself feel the weight and the warmth of it all at once. I come back to that kind of meal again and again this time of year: something that roasts low and slow while the house fills up with a smell that says someone is here, someone is cooking, someone is staying. This roasted pork tenderloin is the weekday version of that same idea — a little leaner, a little quicker, but just as grounding when the dark comes early and you need something real on the table.
Roasted Pork Tenderloin
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs pork tenderloin, trimmed
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1 teaspoon onion powder
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
- 1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary
- 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
Instructions
- Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 425°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet or roasting pan with foil and set a wire rack inside if you have one.
- Mix the seasoning rub. In a small bowl, stir together the garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, thyme, rosemary, salt, and pepper.
- Prep the tenderloin. Pat the pork dry with paper towels. Brush all sides with the Dijon mustard, then drizzle with olive oil. Press the spice rub evenly over the entire surface of the meat.
- Roast. Place the tenderloin on the prepared pan and roast for 20–25 minutes, until an instant-read thermometer inserted in the thickest part reads 145°F.
- Rest before slicing. Transfer the pork to a cutting board and tent loosely with foil. Let it rest for 5–10 minutes — this keeps it juicy. Slice into medallions and serve.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 265 | Protein: 36g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 2g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 420mg