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[katallison]

I think I should start a Memory group of recipe postings, under the rubric "How to Come Off Looking Like a Genius Gourmet Cook Despite Being Lazy and Inexpert." The shrimp risotto would go in, as would the chicken with artichokes, and also today's post, .

The Fabulous Stuffed Pork Roast

I decided to make this on Saturday, because it was so damnably cold and dank here and I was not going to turn on the heat! It's May, dammit! and thus I wanted some excuse to have the oven on so the place would get above 60 degrees.

Now, the deal with pork roasts, or pork in general these days, is that hog breeders have made great advances lately (from the health standpoint) in developing animals that yield an extremely lean, low-fat meat. Your average chunk o' pork these days has about the same fat content as a chicken breast, and that is, as noted, a great thing health-wise.

It is, however, unfortunate from the gustatory perspective, because fat is a large part of what gives pork flavor. And so, on the dryness/blandness scale, your average chunk o' pork these days= your average chicken breast = chunk of fiberglass insulation, and my recent experiences with pork roasts--which I remember as being a delectable, savoury delight of my long-ago childhood--have been sad in the extreme.

The challenge, then, was to re-introduce some degree of flavor and moistness into meat which has been genetically deprived of those qualities. And so I undertook the following experiment.

WHAT YOU NEED:

1. The pork roast. Look for a boneless loin, somewhere around 2.5-3 pounds, of a symmetrical shape. (If you end up with a larger roast, extend cooking times below accordingly.) I found one at the supermarket that was nicely ovoid, like a slightly squashed loaf of bread.

2. A good long sharp knife, preferably thin. An 8" carving knife is perfect; a good chef's knife is also fine. If you don't have good knives (and a means of sharpening them), close this window and go out and eBay your DVD collection until you have the necessary $$ to buy some.

3. Stuffing materials. This is where you get to go all creative, and googling on "stuffed pork roast" will give you some good ideas. Many such recipes go for the sweet/fruity end of the spectrum, involving things like apples or dried apricots, and there's nothing wrong with that. I was in the mood for a savory/herbaceous roast, though, and so my stuffing was comprised of: garlic, onion, walnuts, rosemary, bread crumbs. And butter. Lashings of butter.

THE PROCEDURE:

This is best undertaken on a nice slow rainy weekend day, when you feel like having something fragrant in the oven, but it can also be accomplished with about an hour and a half lead time.

First, mid-afternoonish, take the roast out of the refrigerator, and let it begin a slow ascent towards room temperature. It will not develop botulism or salmonella; rather, a roast that is somewhere above ice-cold when shoved in the oven will cook more evenly. This is not an essential step, however.

Then, when the shades of twilight are gathering, and you have reloaded LJ for the zillionth time and found nothing new and entertaining, and are reduced to staring despondently at crap in your WIP folder--or, that is to say, about 90 minutes before serving time--start preparing the stuffing. For this particular recipe, the steps are:
--Turn on the oven to 350 or so.
--Put about a half-cup of walnut pieces in a flat-bottomed metal pan of some sort, and set them in the oven to toast gently. (Shake them around from time to time.)
--Mince a couple of cloves of garlic and a small onion.
--Chop some fresh rosemary. (I ended up with a tablespoon or so, which was a bit much, so calibrate to taste.)
--When the walnuts are fragrant and starting to darken a bit, take them out and chop them up finely, or buzz them in a food processor.
--Melt a great deal of butter in a nonstick pan -- more than you think is sensible or wholesome. You can supplement it with some olive oil, if you fear the butter.
--Throw in the garlic and onions and let them saute for a while on medium heat. When they've gotten decently cooked, add the walnuts and rosemary, stir around, and let everything simmer gently for a few minutes. Sprinkle with some salt and pepper.
--I also threw in a few tablespoons of bread crumbs, because I'd used really a shocking amount of butter and wanted something to sop it up a bit. You can do this if your stuffing mix is still rather liquid at this point, but it's non-essential.

Now you take your nice long sharp knife, and cut a slit lengthwise through the center of the roast, creating a long meaty tunnel. Ideally, you will leave a little stopper of intact meat at the far end, so that the stuffing doesn't spill out when you jam it in, and one way to strategize this is to lay the knife along the top of the roast and eyeball the point where you should stop cutting. (I did not do this, because I was already into the wine by this point in the cooking process and was also watching Firefly DVDs at the same time, but everything came out fine anyway, so don't stress about it.)

Then you shove the stuffing mix into the opening, tamping it down vigorously. Fingers are the best way to do this, and if you haven't given the stuffing time to cool down, you'll likely end up cursing and sucking your fingers. This gives you a chance to notice how fabulous the stuffing tastes. ( You could, of course, if mentally organized, prepare the stuffing a bit further in advance and let it come to room temperature.) In any event, jam as much stuffing as physically possible into the roast. If you have some left over, rub or pack it around the exterior. Put the roast in a pan, and shove it in the oven.

At this point you might want to prepare a nice accompaniment, to wit, Dead-Simple Roasted Vegetables.
--Pull out some vegetables. Potatoes (I used Yukon Gold), carrots, red onion, mushrooms, red pepper, whole garlic cloves, green beans, fennel, all are excellent.
--Wash/peel/etc. as needed, and (if needed) cut up so they're no larger than one inch on any side.
--Toss them in a bowl with some olive oil, a garlic clove you've put through the press, a tiny bit of balsamic vinegar, and perhaps some thyme.
--Spread them out on a baking sheet, and bung them into the oven with the roast.

Then ensues an hour or so while you relax, sip wine, watch more Firefly DVDs, and enjoy the heavenly aromas. Every so often give the vegetables a stir, and (if you have a crappy oven like mine) rotate the pan so the roast cooks evenly.

When you pull the roast out, slice it, and serve, you will find that the flavor of the stuffing has permeated through the meat, and the butter has insinuated itself into the fibers, lending tenderness and savor. Serve with the vegetables and a good wine. Your dining companions will think you are a *genius.*

This should feed four; if you're only serving two, you'll have lots of glorious leftovers, which are fine cold, but if you're reheating, cut slices and heat them in a skillet or under the broiler rather than in a microwave, which makes the meat soggy and weird.

Comments

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

I think I should start a Memory group of recipe postings, under the rubric "How to Come Off Looking Like a Genius Gourmet Cook Despite Being Lazy and Inexpert."

Dude, I think you could write an entire cookbook with that title. Especially if they were all this amusingly and charmingly written.