By Labor Day weekend, the unofficial end of summer, and I spent it doing exactly what Labor Day is supposed to celebrate: working. I had a run to Omaha on Friday, back Saturday morning, and then spent the rest of the weekend doing the kind of domestic labor that never gets a holiday: laundry, grocery shopping, meal prep, cleaning the bathroom, and trying to convince Josie that her bedroom floor is not a closet.
Amber started her advanced classes this week. Eighth grade honors English and science. Her teachers say she is smart and quiet, which is the same thing they have been saying since she came to live with us, and which means she is smart enough to get A grades and quiet enough that nobody worries about her. I worry about her. I worry about the quiet. But I also trust the quiet, because Amber has earned the right to be as quiet as she needs to be, and my job is not to fill her silence but to make sure she knows I am here when the silence ends.
For Labor Day, Dave grilled one last time, the closing ceremony of grill season, though Dave will grill in October and November and probably January if I let him. He grilled bratwursts because brats are the Labor Day food in Nebraska the way hot dogs are the Fourth of July food. I made my German potato salad to go with them: boiled potatoes, warm bacon dressing, onion, parsley. It is served warm, not cold, which makes it a different animal from my regular mustardy potato salad, and Dave says it is the best thing I make, which is wrong because the best thing I make is the chocolate sheet cake, but I let him have this opinion because marriage is about compromise.
Gayle came over and ate one bratwurst and two servings of potato salad and pronounced everything satisfactory, which from Gayle is a standing ovation. She stayed until seven and then drove home, and I followed her in my car to make sure she got there safely, which she does not know I do and which I will never tell her because she would be furious. But she is seventy-three and she drives a 1998 Buick at night, and I am her daughter, and following her home is just another way of saying I love you without using the words.
That week of bratwursts and potato salad and quietly following my mother home in the dark reminded me that the best cooking is really just care made edible—something simple done with intention. So when I wanted to do something a little lighter but still satisfying the next evening, I turned to this air fryer pork tenderloin, which has become one of my weeknight staples because it delivers that same feeling of a real dinner without asking much of you. Here’s how I make it.
Air Fryer Pork Tenderloin
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 pork tenderloin (about 1 to 1 1/4 lbs), silver skin trimmed
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon brown sugar
Instructions
- Preheat the air fryer. Set your air fryer to 400°F and let it preheat for 3 to 5 minutes while you prepare the pork.
- Make the rub. In a small bowl, stir together the garlic powder, smoked paprika, onion powder, thyme, salt, pepper, and brown sugar until combined.
- Season the tenderloin. Pat the pork dry with paper towels. Rub it all over with the olive oil, then press the spice mixture evenly onto all sides.
- Air fry. Place the tenderloin in the air fryer basket. Cook at 400°F for 18 to 20 minutes, flipping once halfway through, until the internal temperature reads 145°F on an instant-read thermometer. Do not overcook — 145°F gives you a pale pink center that is perfectly safe and stays juicy.
- Rest before slicing. Transfer the tenderloin to a cutting board and tent loosely with foil. Let it rest for 5 minutes. Slice into 1/2-inch medallions and serve warm.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 218 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 2g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 390mg