Southwestern Pork Salad -- The Closest I’ve Gotten to Hector’s Kitchen

January 2029. The first full year without Hector. I have been through the loss of Ruben and I know something about navigating a first year. The shape of it: some weeks you forget and then you remember and the remembering is sharp. Some weeks you carry it as a steady weight rather than an acute pain. Some weeks — increasingly — you carry him as presence rather than absence. I told a friend at a meeting this week that I wasn't sure which of those was grief and which was healing. She said maybe they were the same process and the distinction didn't matter. Maybe.

I went through my notebook this month — the forty-page notebook of his kitchen instructions. I typed every entry into a document so there are two copies, one physical and one that can be backed up. The process of typing took three evenings. I read each entry twice. Some of the entries are technical — cumin before or after, how long the flour for the roux, when to add the hominy. Some are observational: he cuts the onion against the grain, which he says releases more flavor, which I haven't been able to confirm is true but I do it anyway because it's what he said. There are forty-seven entries. Forty-seven moments of him in a kitchen. I have them all. They are mine to carry and to pass.

Made his red chile pork this week. Pure technique, no shortcuts. It was close. It was the closest I've gotten. I ate it thinking about him and I could almost hear him saying more cumin. I added more cumin. He was right. He was always right about cumin.

The red chile pork I made this week isn’t in the notebook—it lives in my hands now, in forty-seven entries I’ve memorized by typing them twice. But this Southwestern Pork Salad is where I keep practicing the instincts Hector was building in me: the chile heat, the cumin dose he would have doubled, the patience with pork that he always insisted on. It’s not his dish, but it’s built from his logic, and right now that feels like enough.

Southwestern Pork Salad

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

Ingredients

• 1 lb pork tenderloin, trimmed and cut into thin strips
• 2 tsp ground cumin
• 1 tsp chili powder
• 1/2 tsp smoked paprika
• 1/2 tsp garlic powder
• 1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
• 1/2 tsp kosher salt
• 1/4 tsp black pepper
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
• 1 cup frozen corn, thawed
• 1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced
• 1/2 red onion, thinly sliced
• 6 cups romaine lettuce, chopped
• 1 avocado, sliced
• 1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves
• Juice of 2 limes
• 2 tbsp olive oil (for dressing)
• 1 tsp honey

Instructions

1. Season the pork. In a bowl, combine cumin, chili powder, smoked paprika, garlic powder, cayenne, salt, and pepper. Toss pork strips with the spice blend until evenly coated. Let sit 10 minutes at room temperature.
2. Make the dressing. Whisk together lime juice, 2 tbsp olive oil, and honey in a small bowl. Season with a pinch of salt and set aside.
3. Sear the pork. Heat 1 tbsp olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add pork strips in a single layer and cook 3—4 minutes per side until cooked through and slightly charred at the edges. Remove from heat and rest 5 minutes.
4. Warm the beans and corn. In the same skillet over medium heat, add black beans and corn. Stir 2—3 minutes until heated through, scraping up any spiced fond from the pork.
5. Assemble the salad. Arrange romaine on a large platter. Top with the warm bean and corn mixture, red bell pepper, red onion, and pork strips.
6. Finish and serve. Lay avocado slices over the top, scatter cilantro, and drizzle with the lime dressing. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 420 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 32g | Fiber: 9g | Sodium: 480mg