Blackened Pork Caesar Salad

Cookout season. Every Saturday is a cookout somewhere. Set the Table at New Birth Saturday morning. Six girls. We did baked chicken.

Daddy in his apartment in the back. I brought him his coffee and his medication this morning. He grumbled. The grumble was the love. Marcus, 21, studying for finals at Alabama.

BBQ chicken on the grill. The standard Saturday. Sauce at the end so it doesn't burn.

Jasmine, 18, home from Howard for the weekend. Isaiah, 18, called from Charlotte — coaching season starting.

Sunday dinner held. The table was full. The food was right.

I went to the cemetery Saturday morning. Brenda's grave is on the hill at South-View. Curtis still goes most Sundays. I left a small bouquet of magnolias.

I made a casserole for the church potluck. The pan came back empty. That is the only review I trust.

Saturday morning I had Set the Table at the Cascade Heights center. Twelve young women. We did baked chicken. One of them — Imani, sixteen — was so afraid of seasoning that she barely shook the salt. I stood next to her and put my hand over hers and said, baby, you cannot be afraid of food. We seasoned the chicken. The chicken came out right. She glowed.

The blood pressure check was Wednesday. The numbers were borderline. The doctor wants me to walk more. I am walking more.

Thursday I made cornbread for a sister at church whose husband had surgery. I dropped it off at the hospital. She cried at the door. I told her, eat the cornbread, baby. The food is the saying.

Daddy sat in his chair after dinner watching the news. He fell asleep before the third quarter. Standard.

Darnell sent a photo from Clarksville. The garden is producing. He grew tomatoes the size of softballs. I sent him back a photo of my sweet potato casserole. We are competitive about food now in our middle age.

Miss Ernestine called Tuesday. She's ninety-something and sharp as ever. She told me my potato salad still needs more mustard.

I read for an hour Sunday night before bed. Some novel about a Black woman in 1960s Alabama. Mama would have liked it.

Derek and I had date night Friday. Same restaurant, same booth, same enchiladas for me and carne asada for him.

The kids were home for the weekend. The house was loud the way it should be.

The neighbors had a Friday cookout this week. I brought my mac and cheese. They have come to expect this. I have come to expect this. The block is the block.

Sunday service at New Birth this morning. The choir sang. I sang soprano in the second alto row. Pastor preached about Naomi and Ruth. The congregation said amen. I said amen.

Andre called from LA. He told the Kevin Hart story again. Twenty-some years and that boy is still telling that story. Everyone in this family is going to hear about Kevin Hart at our funerals.

I had a hard counseling case at school this week. A seventh-grade girl whose mama lost her job. We talked. I gave her my number. I told her she could call.

Wednesday Bible study at the church. We read through Proverbs. The women in my row argued about whether wisdom is built or born. I said both. They agreed, sort of.

Pastor preached about the prodigal son again. He preaches about that boy at least three times a year. The text is the text but every preaching is different. I cried in the second service this time. Don't ask me why.

Every Saturday this season there’s been a grill going somewhere — and I’ve been the one standing next to it, watching the chicken, pulling it off before the sauce burns. But after standing in that kitchen with Imani at the Cascade Heights center and reminding her that she cannot be afraid of food, I thought about how much courage it takes to season something boldly and trust it. This Blackened Pork Caesar Salad is that same spirit — bold spice, no apology, and something that tastes like you meant every bit of it. When the table is full and the people you love are loud in the right way, this is the kind of dish that holds its own.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs pork tenderloin, sliced into 1-inch medallions
2 tablespoons blackening seasoning (store-bought or homemade)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (adjust to taste)
Salt and black pepper to taste
2 large romaine hearts, chopped
1/2 cup shredded Parmesan cheese
1 cup croutons
1/2 cup Caesar dressing (store-bought or homemade)
1 lemon, cut into wedges for serving

Instructions

Season the pork. Pat pork medallions dry with paper towels. In a small bowl, combine blackening seasoning, garlic powder, smoked paprika, cayenne, salt, and pepper. Press the spice mixture firmly onto both sides of each pork medallion so it adheres well.
Sear the pork. Heat olive oil in a cast-iron skillet or heavy pan over medium-high heat until smoking hot. Add pork medallions in a single layer and cook 4–5 minutes per side without moving them, until a dark, flavorful crust forms and pork reaches an internal temperature of 145°F. Remove from heat and let rest 5 minutes.
Slice the pork. Once rested, slice each medallion into strips against the grain to keep the meat tender and easy to fold into the salad.
Build the salad. In a large serving bowl, toss chopped romaine with Caesar dressing until evenly coated. Add croutons and half the Parmesan, and toss again gently.
Top and serve. Arrange blackened pork strips over the dressed romaine. Sprinkle remaining Parmesan over the top. Serve immediately with lemon wedges on the side for a bright finish.

Nutrition (per serving)

Blackened Pork Caesar Salad — For the Saturdays When the Grill Does the Talking