Vietnamese Pork Lettuce Wraps -- The Filling You Make Before the Week Gets Away From You

Brandon golfed on Saturday and came home pleased with himself, which is the desired outcome of golf. The week was a summer week, the kind where the light through the kitchen window arrives at a particular angle and the freezer hums in a different register depending on the temperature in the garage. I made notes in my prep notebook on Sunday afternoon, the way I always do: meal name, ingredient list, cost per serving, prep time, freezer instructions. Twenty-eight bags. Two hours and eleven minutes. A little slow this week, by my standards, but Brandon was helping and the conversation was good, and I have learned, slowly and against my own grain, that the conversation is sometimes the point and the time is sometimes a courtesy I extend to my husband for being willing to chop onions on a Sunday afternoon.

The children are doing what they do, which is the central report of every week of my adult life. Ethan is 21, in Manila on his mission, and his last email mentioned a chicken adobo so good he is going to make me make it when he comes home. Olivia is 19, at BYU studying elementary education — the path she chose at age seven and has not deviated from once. Mason, 16, is in Brazil on his mission. His weekly emails are short and full of jokes. He does not write much about the work. He writes about the food. Lily is 14, in high school, asking the kind of questions in Sunday School that make the teachers uncomfortable, which I find difficult and also, secretly, admirable. Noah is 12, the comedian, the performer — the kid who does an impression of my disappointed face in front of company, and gets away with it. That is the family report. I do not have a system for these reports. I just listen and remember and call back when I said I would call back, which is most of the time and not all of the time, and the difference between most and all is the territory of motherhood.

I do not preach in this blog. I never have. My faith is in here the way air is in a room — invisible, essential, not discussed. I am still a Latter-day Saint. I am also a woman who has sat in front of a casket the size of a bread box. I do not see those two things as contradictions, but I do not pretend they sit easily together either. The bench in the chapel where I sit on Sunday is the same bench. The woman is not. The faith makes room for the woman. That is what I have learned to ask of it.

The recipe of the week was enchilada assembly line, which I have made some specific number of times in my life and have refined to a system that I now hand to other people in printed form. The version I made this week fed eight, cost under fifteen dollars, and required twenty-six minutes of active prep, which is within my requirements and not a coincidence. I taught a freezer meal class this week and someone cried at the cost-per-serving column on the handout. I took the cry as a compliment. I have stopped explaining the freezer-meal philosophy to people who already follow my work, and I have stopped apologizing for it to people who do not. The philosophy is simple: tomorrow is coming whether you are ready or not. You can either be ready or not. I pick ready.

The week ends the way most of them do — with a labeled bag, a tomorrow, a kitchen light I leave on for no one in particular, and a quiet that holds.

Ethan’s email about the chicken adobo has been living in the back of my mind since he sent it — the way he described the sauce, the smell, the particular satisfaction of a dish that tastes like somewhere. This pork filling is what I keep in the rotation for the weeks when I want that same brightness without the enchilada assembly line, and the freezer instructions are simple enough that it made the printed handout. It goes in labeled bags just like everything else, and when it comes out, it tastes like something someone cared about making — which is the only standard I hold myself to.

Vietnamese Pork Lettuce Wraps

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4–6

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 lbs ground pork
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 tablespoon fresh ginger, grated
• 3 tablespoons soy sauce
• 2 tablespoons fish sauce
• 1 tablespoon rice vinegar
• 1 tablespoon sesame oil
• 1 tablespoon brown sugar
• 1 teaspoon sriracha (optional)
• 1/2 cup shredded carrots
• 3 green onions, thinly sliced
• 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, roughly chopped
• 1 head butter or romaine lettuce, leaves separated
• Lime wedges, for serving
• Cooked vermicelli noodles or jasmine rice, optional for serving

Instructions

1. Brown the pork. Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the ground pork and cook, breaking it apart with a spoon, until fully cooked through and no pink remains, about 7–8 minutes. Drain excess fat.
2. Add aromatics. Reduce heat to medium. Add the minced garlic and grated ginger to the skillet and cook, stirring constantly, for 1 minute until fragrant.
3. Build the sauce. Add the soy sauce, fish sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, brown sugar, and sriracha if using. Stir to combine and cook for 2–3 minutes, letting the sauce reduce slightly and coat the pork evenly.
4. Finish with vegetables. Remove from heat and fold in the shredded carrots and sliced green onions. Taste and adjust seasoning — add a splash more fish sauce for depth or rice vinegar for brightness.
5. Serve. Spoon the warm pork filling into individual lettuce leaves. Top with fresh cilantro and a squeeze of lime. Serve alongside vermicelli noodles or jasmine rice if desired.
6. Freezer instructions. Cool filling completely. Portion into labeled freezer bags or airtight containers (do not include fresh toppings). Freeze for up to 3 months. Thaw overnight in the refrigerator and reheat in a skillet over medium heat until warmed through, about 5 minutes. Add fresh toppings at serving time.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 290 | Protein: 23g | Fat: 17g | Carbs: 11g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 810mg