Herb Marinated Loin of Pork
- By Katie Roche
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- 08 Apr, 2019
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Once again, I am at the mercy of the butcher and his ability to get the meat I need so I have postponed for one more week the recipe that should actually be next, and did this pork tenderloin instead. I was pretty relieved to see a low-maintenance recipe on the schedule for this week; due to my excessive herb purchasing (which is due to my excessively miserable failure to grow them), I only needed a ton of lemons and the meat. Dan grabbed the meat for me from the butcher and I got the lemons. This is not all that interesting of an ingredient list, and that fact plus the fact that Dan was a little...*hyper* in the kitchen while I was trying to prepare this marinade caused me to instruct him to take an artsy picture of these lemons. (To keep him busy.)
According to him, I once saw a Buzzfeed list of decorating tips from which I read to him the advice to "get a giant bowl and fill it as full as you can with lemons". I do not recall this, but it must be true, since I've now started to notice giant bowls inexplicably filled with lemons on many home improvement shows. And it really does look pretty! I just don't know anyone who uses that many lemons. I mean, I do on occasion, but usually it's for something like this or to make lemon curd, in which case, they never end up getting to grace my cool ceramic bowl for longer than the two or three days in between grocery shopping and whatever I end up making with them. Does anyone out there legitimately use this as a decorative strategy? I need to know. And actually, when it comes time to replace the lemons with new ones, can I have them? It's that time of year when I want to eat lemon curd like yogurt.
Dan helped me while I was in the process of chopping rosemary by correcting my knife hold so that I wouldn't hurt so much. I don't think I've ever paid attention to the correct way to hold a knife. It did kind of help, but it felt like how it feels when your teacher tries to correct your death-grip pencil hold or your piano teacher tries to give you a particular fingering for a phrase that just doesn't feel right.
This kinda looks like pickle juice, but it's a delicious bladder full of lemon juice, zest, garlic, Dijon mustard, rosemary, thyme, and olive oil waiting for a pork tenderloin to hop in.
There's a side note on the recipe here: "A plastic bag might not be elegant but it ensures that the meat is fully surrounded by the flavorful marinade." You guys. She's apologizing for using a Ziploc for a marinade. LOL. I'm curious now what she has ever used for a marinade that she would consider "elegant"? My mom always used those very '80s-looking Tupperware marinade containers. I've pretty much only ever used Ziplocs or maybe a glass Pyrex dish. A marinade isn't even something people eating at your house would ever SEE. If culinary tasks were garments, marinating would be the underwear. It's just fascinating to me that she would be apologetic about the lack of elegance of her marinade vessel. If she's that into being fancy, she would be absolutely horrified by the fact that I pretty much never use serving dishes. But like, if you have eight people eating at your house, goodness knows just their plates, forks, cups, bowls, dessert plates, etc. are creating enough dishes. You're insane if you want me to transfer whatever I've cooked from whatever it was cooked in to ANOTHER DISH just to make it look prettier. At the Roche household, we dish our food straight from its pot on the stove. Is that millennial and lazy? Maybe. Would I cease this practice for the Queen? Absolutely not.
I wanted to know why the marinade process changed the color of the meat so much, so I started researching that on the internet, realized the possible answers contained lots of science words, and just moved on along. Something about enzymes and acid. But I also read that whatever is going on with that makes it easier to digest the proteins or something? Gosh, I really should have paid attention in high school science, but I was salty about being home-schooled and all of my church peers in my home-school co-op science class thought I was weird for, you know, turning in my homework on time and stuff. ("The Fourth Reich", as Dan calls my elementary school, drilled it into us to turn in our work on time or we would get a 0. It was a rough transition to people showing up to class in pajamas and/or jumpers, sometimes both in a weird layered look, and having them tell our teacher they'd "bring the homework to church on Sunday".) I tuned out most of my 11th grade Chemistry class and most of the people in it. ANYWAY, my meat changed colors and if I had paid attention in school, I'd know why. I wish I had known in high school that I would want this information now.
It hung out on the grill for a while. Since this was a fairly low-key dinner prep situation for me, I started on my other kitchen project. I acquired a family recipe for peppernuts (cookies that I believe I mentioned in a previous post, although I'm not sure) and I had made the dough earlier in the day and set it in the fridge to chill. It made - and this is not a joke - almost SEVEN POUNDS of dough. Because of this, and because the cookies are supposed to be nickel-sized, I thought I'd better get on it with the baking. It's a good thing I did, because even starting at 6:30 PM, I didn't finish baking the last sheet of them until 10:30 PM. Should I have halved the recipe? I mean, yeah, probably. Does one single person need two gallon-sized Ziploc bags full of tiny spiced cookies? Probably not. But the person for whom I was baking is someone who has been meeting me at the ice rink to help me with my skating and hockey skills, and I appreciate him 7-lbs-of-cookies amount, even though he makes me fall on purpose, like, multiple times in a row.
Either we do not own or could not locate the meat thermometer so Dan winged it on determining the doneness of the meat. Our kitchen gadgets live in an extremely disorganized drawer which my dad started calling "Anoia" because of a Terry Pratchett novel in which that is apparently the name of the goddess of things that get stuck in drawers. So our meat thermometer, if we have one, is probably somewhere in the depths of Anoia. Dan and I were on different pages about whether or not this was fully done, and I had made him stick it back on the grill once already, so we called it good here. I went for the more done pieces, and Dan just ate any piece at all with the stereotypical reckless abandon of a man eating pork products. He was fine, so I guess it was done enough.
I was uninspired to come up with a side dish for this, so I labored over a bagged salad from Trader Joe's. (I never make salad. Making salad is the worst. Nobody wants to wash, dry, and chop a million things and then make a dressing for something that is only on the plate so we can Pay Our Dues to health.) Verdict on this: it was like, FINE, but not AMAZING. Dan said it wasn't particularly flavorful but tasted a lot like lemon. Neither of us thought it was gross, I just had higher hopes. I think my feelings are best summarized by what I said to Dan after dinner: "I wish I could eat dinner again, and have it not be this."

For this post, I wanted to combine two summertime flavors into the crisp recipe one of my oldest Alaskan friends passed on to me years ago. Rhubarb, if you're unfamiliar, is a reddish stalk that kind of resembles really big celery. It's very tart and is most commonly paired with strawberry. I've rarely seen it star in its own show dessert-wise, but my friend Kylee has been making rhubarb crisp for years and it's the best crisp I know of. Blueberries are usually in season in late summer; I have not been home for a blueberry season since Dan's last deployment in 2018 so in order to make this recipe I actually used blueberries from a friend's parents' farm in upstate SC! They're a little sweeter than the blueberries I'd have picked at home, but they worked well. I'm going to pretend like I was actually picking blueberries at home in Alaska for the purpose of showing you what that would look like.

I was getting all ready to write this post, going through my process with photos starting in my kitchen when I realized that a lot of my friends probably don't know what fireweed is or where it comes from and this recipe actually starts far, far away from my kitchen. This will be the first of a few posts highlighting iconic Alaskan ingredients. I've wanted to do this for a while because my home inspires me in so many ways, writing and cooking particular among them. Fireweed is a wildflower that is rather ubiquitous in southcentral Alaska and is often considered a gauge for how long summer will last. It is said that when the blooms reach the top of the plant, winter is six weeks away. Whether or not that's accurate, fireweed is found all over in late summer in Alaska. Here is some I spotted in mid-July by Eklutna Lake:
If you know Dan and me very well, you probably know by now that if our life were a sitcom, he'd low-key be the funniest character. Because that is true, I thought I'd include his bottom ten with accompanying remarks before giving the actual bottom ten. His are hilarious, but aren't as legitimate as mine because he actually tried way fewer of these than one might think. I realized as he was flipping through the book that my old coworker Cam probably ate more of these foods than anyone else did. The overarching theme of Dan's song of Ina Garten hatred is not the actual taste of the finished product but more how asinine he finds that particular recipe to be. So here you are, Dan's bottom ten.
#1: Butternut Squash Soup
#1: Butternut Squash Soup

You guys asked for my top ten from the blog, so here we go! And I'm thinking that what you *really* want is actually the bottom ten, so I'll go ahead and give you those next week. That post will probably be A LOT funnier. While preparing to write this post, I had Dan flip through the cookbook to give me HIS top ten and he was all disgruntled as he did so and only came up with eight that he even liked at all. "I'm not a picky eater!" he insists. Yeah ok. Although to be fair, I've seen some cookbooks I would only make, like, one thing out of and plenty I'd make nothing out of, though sometimes that's because I find the chef so annoying. @ the Pioneer Woman. I just don't trust someone who puts sour cream in spaghetti and then bakes it. Plus all her recipe intros are about, like, Ladd or Tadd or whatever the heck her husband's name is "coming in from the fields starving for dinner". If I came in from working in a field and you tried to give me sour cream spaghetti, I'd be like, "How about a hot pocket instead? Thx." Anyway, this is not Dan's blog so these are not his top ten. You can ask him which ones he liked, but you'll end up in a long convo about how much he hates Ina Garten. Anyway, these are not ranked or anything, they're just in order from the cookbook.
So with that, #1: Juice of a Few Flowers
So with that, #1: Juice of a Few Flowers

It was Sunday afternoon and I thought to myself, "What a perfect time to make jam!" I mean, how positively quaint: just sitting in my home in suburbia, finished with weekend chores, relaxing with some knitting...why not? Why not make some jam? I mean, obviously my afternoon-kitchen-activity was directed toward jam-making because it was next up in the book BUT whatever, I was kind of excited! Also, this is the last recipe in this book!!! I'm still in the process of deciding what I'll do now, so if there's something you'd like me to make and tell you about in my own fashion - you know, with lots of tangents and jokes - please do let me know! I'll likely continue to tackle Ina content, but may start including some recipe faves and/or foods people text me about a lot! I get a lot of cake questions, a LOT of frosting questions (because meringue buttercream is bae and I've got everyone in my social circles who eats my food on board), and a lot of fish questions. So look for more food to come, even though this is the last recipe in Back to Basics.
We went to Publix to ItemQuest for this and Dan said, "Don't we already have strawberries???" And I had to confess that I had eaten them all because it's honestly amazing how good fruit can be when it's 1) in season, 2) somewhat local, and 3) not ludicrously expensive. I'm about to travel home to Alaska for about a month, and it's going to put a real damper on my current fruit-snacking habits when I go into Fred Meyer for some strawbs and they're like, $7/lb and already trying to be moldy. Also needed blueberries (partly for the jam, mostly for the snax), one Granny Smith apple, and more superfine sugar. Publix had all of these things, plus about a million old people 'cause Sunday + Publix = Old People City.
We went to Publix to ItemQuest for this and Dan said, "Don't we already have strawberries???" And I had to confess that I had eaten them all because it's honestly amazing how good fruit can be when it's 1) in season, 2) somewhat local, and 3) not ludicrously expensive. I'm about to travel home to Alaska for about a month, and it's going to put a real damper on my current fruit-snacking habits when I go into Fred Meyer for some strawbs and they're like, $7/lb and already trying to be moldy. Also needed blueberries (partly for the jam, mostly for the snax), one Granny Smith apple, and more superfine sugar. Publix had all of these things, plus about a million old people 'cause Sunday + Publix = Old People City.

I was glad Ina gave me something easy for this week, because I was packing for Alaska and just *did not have the time* to mess with hunting lobsters or weird cheeses from the internet or whatever. ItemQuest was fairly straightforward, just took Dan a trip to the liquor store next to the Publix for some limoncello. I grabbed this particular lemon curd in the British aisle of Publix; I think last time an Ina recipe called for lemon curd I bought it from Trader Joe's and it was DISGUSTING. I mean, truly awful. I would like to recommend making your own lemon curd if you have the time and the inclination. Ina's lemon curd recipe is phenomenal and it is one thing for which I can say she is truly correct: homemade is BETTER and store-bought is not at all as good. The most beloved cupcakes I have ever made were filled with Ina's lemon curd, and had the lemon curd mixed into the meringue buttercream frosting. HIGHLY RECOMMEND!!! Anyway, the rest of this was fruit that I had on hand, mint, and Greek yogurt which we did have to buy because I don't, as a rule, eat Greek yogurt of my own free will. It's chalky and disgusting.

Dates are something I honestly never even thought about until I did Whole 30. I have mentioned my Whole 30 experience several times over the course of this journey through Back to Basics, but if you're new to reading the blog, this is what happened: I did Whole 30 one time, just to prove that I could, because salvation-by-diet apologists were obsessed with it as the newest fad in righteous eating practices. It was a terrible experience; on top of hating every minute of it for myself and finding exactly zero wellness benefits, I also hated it for Dan who was not allowed to eat popcorn for 30 days. Dan is in love with popcorn; his addiction to it is almost at the level of my addiction to coffee. He gets rage-y without it. But anyway, Whole 30 recipes are big into dates as sweeteners and some of the things you can eat, like Lara Bars, are made with dates. Dates are impossibly chewy. I ate more of them in that 30 days than I ever wanted to, and now when I see them in recipes I can't help but think of that Whole 30. Fortunately for me, I got to begin this recipe by chopping TWO CUPS' worth of dates. Oh, they also kind of look like cockroach bodies, so there's that. The only thing I actually had to get at the store for this was oranges! I had everything else on hand, even Cointreau, thanks to many previous Ina recipes.

Alright so, I'm not the Muffin Man. I don't really make a whole lot of muffins, for a lot of reasons, one of the main ones being that on the rankings of breakfast foods they definitely do not crack the top five, maybe not even the top ten. If I have an option for a bagel or a waffle, I'll pick one of them over a muffin every single time. I also prefer cereal, cinnamon rolls, or *cue eye roll* avocado toast. I've just never risen from my slumber and been like, "You know what would really hit the spot right now? A MUFFIN." But!!! In recent months, since my friend Logan came into my life, I've been making muffins a lot more frequently because he really loves them. So the last blueberry muffins I made were from a 99cent Betty Crocker mix packet which he brought into my house and asked me sweetly to make, because they're what he grew up with and along with many preservatives, they are full of nostalgia for him. Here is Logan and me, preparing to mix the muffin batter. Out of respect (and to make up for the disrespect of rolling up with muffin mix), he wore one of my aprons. I will treasure this picture forever.

You guys...Ina has "a thing" about commercial granola bars. Her beef with them, apparently, is that they say they contain real fruit and nuts but that all she sees when she looks at the labels are like, ten different kinds of corn syrup. I'm going to go ahead and guess, just based on this, that none of the lunches her mom packed for her growing up contained any Fruit By the Foot. And surely if we introduced her to Gushers, she would die. This is a real shame. I also feel like this disdain for corn syrup is maybe just a tad self-righteous, coming from the woman whose frosting recipe calls for literally six entire sticks of butter. At that point, what's a little corn syrup to you really? People's nutritional hills-to-die-on really fascinate me (and also kind of annoy me sometimes) and the ones about sugar might get me the most. I feel like, at some point, sugar is sugar and whether you're baking with honey, white sugar, brown sugar, molasses, maple syrup, etc you're still probably making something that's not amazing for you so, in terms of sugar, why not just be in for a penny in for a pound, amirite? So while I'm on this topic, before I even get to the actual point (please, I know you're here for the tangents), I would like to just let anyone and everyone know that I'm absolutely not interested in your "healthy substitutes" for things that taste good in their original form. I do not WANT a chocolate chip pancake made out of bananas and grains you harvested in your field this morning. If I want a banana I will eat one, and if I want a chocolate chip pancake I will eat one, and that's that. And DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT come @ me with "cashew cheese". Just don't. I don't even think I should honor that concept with an explanation of why it's so wrong. If that's not self-evident, I can't help you.
So down to the granola bar ingredients. I rolled up to Kroger only to find that their already meager bulk bins had been EMPTIED because if you scoop dates into a bag and then someone else scoops dates into a bag, you might get the coronavirus. I'm glad they've taken the precaution of removing this shopping option, since I cannot resisting licking my hands after every grocery trip I make. Thankfully, they still had the lil tower of small containers of some of the weirder items right there in the organic section, which was where I was able to find dates. The rest of this stuff was on the baking aisle, with the exception of wheat germ which was, for some reason, with the cereal. I'm still kind of unclear on what wheat germ is actually used for by people, and the context of it being located on the cereal aisle makes me wonder even more. Do people eat it like grape nuts? Sprinkle it on stuff like how people like to do with nutritional yeast right now? ("It tastes just like cheese!" You know what else tastes like cheese? Actual cheese. You're welcome.) Anyway, I was very grateful that Kroger at least had everything I needed and I didn't have to go on a for real ItemQuest.
So down to the granola bar ingredients. I rolled up to Kroger only to find that their already meager bulk bins had been EMPTIED because if you scoop dates into a bag and then someone else scoops dates into a bag, you might get the coronavirus. I'm glad they've taken the precaution of removing this shopping option, since I cannot resisting licking my hands after every grocery trip I make. Thankfully, they still had the lil tower of small containers of some of the weirder items right there in the organic section, which was where I was able to find dates. The rest of this stuff was on the baking aisle, with the exception of wheat germ which was, for some reason, with the cereal. I'm still kind of unclear on what wheat germ is actually used for by people, and the context of it being located on the cereal aisle makes me wonder even more. Do people eat it like grape nuts? Sprinkle it on stuff like how people like to do with nutritional yeast right now? ("It tastes just like cheese!" You know what else tastes like cheese? Actual cheese. You're welcome.) Anyway, I was very grateful that Kroger at least had everything I needed and I didn't have to go on a for real ItemQuest.

At first I saw the pictures of this and thought, "YAY!!! Cinnamon rolls!" And then a couple of weeks ago, I actually tried making cinnamon rolls for the first time and realized that my inability to roll/shape/slice yeast doughs is still a thing. AND THEN I read this entire recipe and realized these get filled with raisins. So here we go!
ItemQuest was only dramatic because the stores just DID NOT have puff pastry sheets; I was only finding it in "shells". I tried Bi-Lo and Dan tried Food Lion before he finally located sheets at Publix. The rest of the ingredients, I already had on hand!
ItemQuest was only dramatic because the stores just DID NOT have puff pastry sheets; I was only finding it in "shells". I tried Bi-Lo and Dan tried Food Lion before he finally located sheets at Publix. The rest of the ingredients, I already had on hand!