We never spoke much during these meals. It was in these silences that we found a different kind of connection; each bite a reminder of Dad’s efforts.
There are certain dishes that become etched into the fabric of a family – not for their complexity or flair, but for the comfort and memories they evoke. Like most people, it’s Mum I remember being in the kitchen slaving away to create dishes that we rarely appreciated at the time; it is only as I get older that I realise how incredibly lucky I was to grow up with home-cooked meals.
Dad loves his food but has never been one for the kitchen, truth be told. His main culinary repertoire is limited to lighting the barbecue during the summer, tinned sardines on toast, and sausage sandwiches with lashings of Worcestershire sauce. But he is also partial to the occasional pork chop – a dish that emerged only in the rare and fleeting absence of Mum. But in those moments when Mum’s nurturing presence was away, he donned her apron with a sense of quiet duty. Dad was not concerned with precision; with rudimentary knife skills at best, his cuts were robust, but it did not matter. The pork chops themselves were a marvel of simplicity – thickly cut, with a rich layer of creamy fat.
Into the hot pan they went, seasoned generously with salt and sizzling away in foaming butter. By cooking over a high heat and not playing with the food, Dad had a knack for achieving that perfect sear, the kind that creates a crust so alluring it almost defies you to wait. There was no fanfare, no deglazing with wine or intricate marinades – just the honest flavours of the meat filling the kitchen with a scent so inviting it drew me in from my room at the top of the house. As we sat down to eat, there was a tangible sense of occasion. We never spoke much during these meals. It was in these silences that we found a different kind of connection; each bite a reminder of Dad’s efforts, and his desire to try to nurture us in the only way he knew when Mum wasn’t there.
The richness of pork has a natural affinity for apples, particularly Granny Smith or Pink Lady, as their sweetness is tempered by a refreshing tartness. A small knob of butter and a sprinkling of sugar transforms them into molten gold, their edges curling and caramelising.
Serve these with my roasted parsnips.
How to prepare Dad’s pork chops
Ingredients
- 2 pork chops (preferably pasture raised), skin removed.
- 1 apple (Pink Lady or Granny Smith)
- 1 leek, halved, washed and cut into 5cm batons.
- 40g unsalted butter
- 15g sugar
- 200ml cider
- 4 sprigs thyme
Method
- Allow your pork to come up to room temperature, patting dry if required.
- Cut the apple into eight segments, removing the core from each piece.
- Toss the apple segments in the sugar until thinly coated.
- Heat a large pan over a high heat. Place the apples in the pan for 2-3 minutes until the sugar has caramelised. Add 20g of butter and toss the apples so that they are evenly coated. Remove the apples and reserve. Deglaze the pan with the cider and reserve.
- Place the pan back on a medium-high heat. Place the pork chops side by side, fat side down. The pan will sizzle into life as the fat begins to render out. Cook fat side down for
5-6 minutes until the fat cap has caramelised. - Carefully place the pork chops on their side, seasoning well. Add 10g of butter, which will foam in the pan, and cook for about 4-5 minutes, until golden brown. Turn chops and cook on the other side, adding another 10g of butter and basting continually.
- Remove the pork chops from the pan, and place the leek batons, cut face down, in the pan. Cook for 5-6 minutes, turning halfway through, until gently roasted and golden brown. Pour the cider into the pan to deglaze, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Add the thyme sprigs and simmer for about 5-6 minutes, until the liquid has reduced slightly and the leeks are tender. Return the apples and the pork chops together with any resting juices to the pan, nestling them among the leeks.
- Let everything cook together for another 2-3 minutes to allow the flavours to meld. Serves 2
