Apple Cider Pulled Pork

September. Labor Day weekend. The tourists leave and Vermont exhales and becomes itself again — quieter, emptier, prettier in the way that a room is prettier after the party, when the light comes through the windows and falls on everything without competition. The leaves haven't turned yet, not really, but there's a suggestion in the maples — a blush of red, a whisper of gold, a preview of the show that will bring the tourists back in three weeks and make Vermont pretend to tolerate them again.

I made a Labor Day pot roast. End of summer, beginning of fall — the meal needed to straddle both, and pot roast does that. It's warm and heavy enough for the cool evenings but uses the last of the garden carrots and potatoes, connecting it to the season that's ending. Chuck roast, onions, carrots, potatoes, broth. Low and slow. The kitchen fills with the smell that means we're turning a corner, that the grilling days are numbered, that the oven is about to become the most important appliance in the house again.

Anna starts kindergarten tomorrow. David called to report that she's laid out her outfit, packed her backpack, and informed her brothers that she is now a "school person" and they should respect this. James, who is two, was unmoved. Teddy, who is eight, said, "It's just kindergarten." Anna said, "It's just the beginning." She might be right. The girl has a sense of occasion that nobody in this family knows where she got it. Not from the Bergstrom side. We don't do occasions. Occasions happen to us, and we respond with understatement.

The garden is in its final act. The tomatoes are still producing but slowing. The beans are done. The zucchini has finally, mercifully, stopped. The summer garden dies in stages, like a play ending scene by scene, and each empty row is a line of dialogue spoken for the last time until next year. I pulled the bean poles on Saturday. It took twenty minutes. It felt like a eulogy.

September. The pot roast in the oven. The child at school tomorrow. The garden closing. The leaves not yet turned. We're between seasons, between acts, between the summer that was and the fall that will be. The pot roast is the bridge. It always is.

The pot roast got me thinking about the other great slow-cook of the season — the one that lets apple cider do half the work while you pull bean poles and watch the garden close down around you. This Apple Cider Pulled Pork is what I make when I want the kitchen to smell like the corner we’re turning: not quite summer, not quite fall, but something good happening slowly while the afternoon light changes. Anna’s first day of school deserved a dinner that had been thinking about itself all day, and pulled pork, more than almost anything else, rewards patience.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 8 hours | Total Time: 8 hours 15 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

3 1/2 to 4 lb bone-in pork shoulder (Boston butt)
1 cup fresh apple cider
1/3 cup apple cider vinegar
3 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
1 1/2 teaspoons smoked paprika
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon onion powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 large yellow onion, thinly sliced
3 cloves garlic, smashed
1 tablespoon neutral oil (such as canola)

Instructions

Make the rub. In a small bowl, combine the smoked paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, black pepper, and cayenne. Mix well and set aside.
Season the pork. Pat the pork shoulder dry with paper towels. Rub the spice mixture all over the surface of the meat, pressing it in gently so it adheres.
Sear (optional but worth it). Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Sear the pork shoulder on all sides until deeply browned, 3 to 4 minutes per side. This builds flavor that carries through the long cook.
Layer the slow cooker. Scatter the sliced onion and smashed garlic across the bottom of a 6-quart slow cooker. Set the seared pork on top.
Mix the liquid. Whisk together the apple cider, apple cider vinegar, brown sugar, and Dijon mustard until the sugar dissolves. Pour the mixture over and around the pork.
Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 8 hours (or HIGH for 5 hours), until the meat is completely tender and pulls apart easily with a fork.
Shred and finish. Transfer the pork to a cutting board and use two forks to pull it into pieces, discarding any large pieces of fat or bone. Skim excess fat from the cooking liquid, then ladle 1/2 to 3/4 cup of the juices back over the shredded pork. Taste and adjust salt.
Serve. Pile onto toasted buns, over mashed potatoes, or alongside roasted fall vegetables. Pass extra cooking liquid at the table.

Nutrition (per serving)

Apple Cider Pulled Pork — When the Oven Takes Back the Kitchen