Southwestern Pineapple Pork Chops

The closing on the land was in late October and for the first few weeks after I owned it I kept driving out just to stand on it. No specific purpose. Just to be there, to have it be mine, to feel what it meant to have a piece of ground that belonged to me and to no one else—a piece I'd carry responsibility for and that would carry me in return.

The barn was the first project. It needed new siding on two sides, the roof was sound but would need attention within a few years, and the interior was full of someone else's leftover materials that needed to be cleared. Caleb came out two Saturdays in November and helped me work through the cleanup. He'd gotten good with tools over the pandemic years and had opinions about the barn's structure that were mostly correct. We argued productively about what to clear and what to keep. The work was good.

I put in a small fire circle near the creek, nothing formal, just cleared ground and a ring of stones from the creek bed itself. Cooked over it the first time on a cold November Saturday: venison ribs, slow and low over hardwood coals, the smoke going up into bare oak branches. Caleb brought coffee and we ate standing at the fire in the cold and agreed that this was the right thing to have done.

I've been thinking about what this land can be over the next decade. A garden. Food forest plantings. A place to teach, eventually, in the way Danny taught me—not formally, not with a curriculum, but by doing things together and letting the knowledge transfer the way it's always transferred. River will grow up with access to this land. Kai will know this land. That's what I want to build here.

That first meal at the fire circle—standing in the cold with Caleb, smoke rising into bare oak branches, agreeing that this was exactly the right thing to have done—set a standard I’ve been chasing ever since. When I cook over hardwood coals now, I want something that holds up to the fire, something with sweetness to balance the smoke and heat to remind you you’re alive. These Southwestern Pineapple Pork Chops do exactly that. They’ve become my go-to when I want a fire meal that feels worthy of new ground.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 bone-in pork chops (about 3/4 inch thick)
1 can (8 oz) pineapple slices in juice, juice reserved
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
3 cloves garlic, minced
Salt and black pepper to taste
Fresh cilantro, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

Make the marinade. In a small bowl, whisk together the reserved pineapple juice, olive oil, soy sauce, brown sugar, chili powder, smoked paprika, cumin, cayenne, and garlic until the sugar dissolves.
Marinate the chops. Season pork chops on both sides with salt and pepper. Place in a shallow dish or zip-top bag, pour the marinade over, and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes—or up to 4 hours for deeper flavor.
Prepare your fire or grill. Build a hardwood coal fire or preheat a grill to medium-high heat (about 400°F). Let coals settle to a glowing, even bed with no open flame for the best sear.
Grill the pork chops. Remove chops from marinade and shake off the excess. Grill over direct heat for 4–5 minutes per side, until grill marks form and internal temperature reaches 145°F.
Grill the pineapple. While the chops rest, lay the pineapple slices directly on the grate. Grill 2 minutes per side until caramelized and lightly charred.
Rest and serve. Let chops rest 5 minutes. Top each with a grilled pineapple slice, scatter fresh cilantro over the top, and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Southwestern Pineapple Pork Chops — The First Fire on New Ground