Making the Rotation

No matter how you look at it, pigs make for good eating. Think about it. Bacon, barbecue ribs, Italian sausage, carne adovada -- all good eats thanks to the sacrifice of a pig. (Which reminds me of a very funny poster I saw recently at a breakfast restaurant: “Bacon and eggs – a day’s work for the chicken, a lifetime commitment for the pig.”)

What’s more, I find pork to be fairly affordable. Despite my recent near-death experience when I priced center-cut bacon, I still can find pork chops at a price that doesn’t require me to take a sedative following its purchase. I think pork chops are overlooked – the redheaded stepchild of the meat world as my always-politically-incorrect-and-proud-of-it husband would say.

So recently, as I leafed through a grilling magazine I had picked up at the grocery store (because I don’t have enough cookbooks or recipe cards at home!), I was pleased to find a large number of recipes for pork. One in particular caught my eye – mostly because the recipe’s author put as her preface that pork chops prepared this way are on her family’s regular dinner rotation. In other words, these pork chops made the rotation.

That expression is one that I think is used by many new cooks (and I’m specifically picturing one of my nieces as I write). “This meal makes the rotation.” You try different things. Some you vow never to make again, and some work out (i.e., make the rotation) and you make them again and again. As for me, my rotation consists of about five or six things that I make over and over, intermixed with various recipes I find in cookbooks, magazines, or on cooking shows or the internet. Unfortunately, even when a recipe turns out to be delicious, it doesn’t often make the rotation at my house. Too many recipes; too little time. Except for the five or six things that I make over and over.

Having said all of the above, I offer you this recipe, which came from the Taste of Home Grill It Cookbook.

Hearty Pork Chops

2/3 c. lemon-lime soda
½ c. soy sauce
¼ c. honey
1 t. dried thyme (I used fresh)
¾ t. dried rosemary, crushed (Again, I used fresh)
¼ t. black pepper
6 bone-in pork loin chops (I would buy whatever is on sale)

In a large resealable plastic bag, combine the first six ingredients; add the pork chops. Seal bag and turn to coat; refrigerate for 4 hours or overnight, turning bag occasionally.

Drain and discard marinade. Grill pork, covered, over medium heat 6-8 minutes on each side or until juices run clear.

The pork chops I bought were very thick, so it took longer than 8 minutes on each side to cook through. If you have any questions, cut into them to see if the juices run clear. Don’t overcook. I cooked mine about 10 minutes on each side. Also, because of the honey and soda in the marinade, the chops carmelize (get brown) very easily. They are not burnt. But keep an eye on them.

As an aside, I don’t know why, but I really prefer thinner pork chops. I just think they have more flavor. And they are decidedly less expensive. I guess I’m a cheap date. It’s what my dad always cooked.

The Secret of the Hidden Recipes

I am a voracious reader. I always have at least one book going, and often a couple. I must – absolutely MUST – have a book waiting so that when I finish the one I'm currently reading, I can simply pick up the next, taking only time to visit the rest room if necessary.

I read many different kinds of books – fiction, biography, nonfiction (particularly if it's about World War II or at least that era), even some light romance if it's not too gooey and I'm in the mood. But, without a doubt, my favorite kind of book to read is a really good mystery. That's been true since I read Nancy Drew starting at age 7.

In fact, I like to try and solve mysteries. I'm really no good at it. While watching detective shows on TV, my husband will undoubtedly figure out who the murderer is about 25 seconds into the show. He will always ask me if I have it figured out, and I almost never figure it out prior to the end of the show. I would make a lousy detective.

I'm sort of the same way when I am standing in the grocery line or sitting at the mall. I try to solve the mystery of people's lives. I will create a story line based on watching a young mother talking with great animation to another person. For example, based on the scowl on her face as she talks, I think she had a fight with her husband, who is the brother of the woman with whom she's speaking. She is probably asking her, based on her relationship with her brother, if she thinks she should stay with him or get a divorce. See what I mean? In fact, I have no idea what's really transpiring, but that doesn't stop me from creating an interesting scenario.

Anyway, I recently began reading a book that I picked up at a used book store – The Song of the Lark, by Willa Cather. The copy I picked up was kind of old, and had been read by many people, or perhaps read many times by the same person. The pages were kind of yellowed and stiff. So, I'm reading along, and all of the sudden, I turn the page and there is a 3 X 5 index card with a recipe written in grandmother cursive. You know the kind of handwriting about which I speak. The letters are perfectly drawn with sort of a flowery flourish to them. The handwriting is very pretty. The recipe is called Bet's Gingersnaps.

Because I'm fascinated by recipes, I perused the card very quickly. It was an old fashioned recipe, something a grandmother would make. I set it aside and continued reading.

A day or so later, I noticed a recipe card fall out of that same book. Hmm, I thought I had put that recipe in the kitchen. I looked at the card, and saw that it was a second recipe card, this time for Marjorie's Pickled Figs. Marjorie also had an elderly person's perfect penmanship.

That's when I began to try and solve the mystery of why there were two recipe cards in this book. I quickly envisioned a book club, similar to the ones in which I participate. This book club must have had some sort of recipe exchange. I'll bet they were asked to bring one of their mother's favorite recipes. Or maybe they were offering a recipe for something their kids especially loved them to make. Or, I know, they were exchanging recipes that had been passed down in their families for many generations. The group was made up of older women who had been meeting once a month for years and years and years. No one under the age of 60 is named Bet or Marjorie.

I would love to have been able to see the other recipes. In fact, I would love to have been part of the discussion about that book. Did they tie the recipes into the discussion somehow? The book is about a Swedish family that lived in a small Colorado mountain town in the 1800s. Did the recipes tie in somehow to that theme?

I'll never know.

Here are the two recipes, exactly as they wrote them:

Bet's Gingersnaps

½ c. Crisco
½ c. or less Br Sugar
1 egg
4 T mild molasses (not blackstrap)
½ tsp salt
1 tsp or less B. Soda
2 tsp Ginger
2 ¼ c flour

Cream shortening sugar together. Add egg, molasses. Beat. Add flour salt spice gradually. When blended I put in frig over night or until stiff. Then I take out small globs and put on greased cookie sheet. Press flat with floured fork.

I bake at 350 till brown – They burn easily – but crispy if well baked.

So, here is are my questions for Bet. What in blazes does that last sentence mean? Do you want them crispy? Aren't gingersnaps always brown, so how do I know when they're brown? Define well baked. How much less brown sugar or b soda? And would it have taken that much more time to write out "baking"?

Marjorie's Pickled Figs
6 c sugar
1 c water
1 c white vinegar
¼ t oil of cloves (drug or health foods store)
¼ t. “ “ cinnamon or sticks (3-4)
Blanch figs 5 – 7 min – set aside.

Do this for 3 days.
Can & seal or freeze
6 – 8 pints

Okay, now Marjorie, just exactly what am I supposed to do for 3 days? Seriously, I haven't a clue. It's not really that much of a problem, however, because I can't think of a reason that I would ever try to pickle a fig. What ever made you, or your mother, or your grandmother pickle a fig? Pickle a cucumber, or maybe an okra, or even a bean. Leave the figs alone!

As an aside, I recently heard some grade school teachers talking about the fact that they are being less and less encouraged to teach young children cursive. I guess I'm not surprised, but it makes me very sad. I guess that means that before long, there won't be such things as recipe cards.