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Carnitas With Orzo And Peppers In Red Mole Sauce — The Comfort Pot, Different Night

The week after my birthday is usually a quiet one. The cake is gone. The cards are on the mantel — five cards, including one from Luis in Orlando that arrived three days late, which is a Luis hallmark — and the house has settled back into its normal rhythm. I made asopao on Wednesday night because I had leftover rotisserie chicken from Tuesday and leftover rice from Monday and I do not let food die.

Asopao de pollo. The rice stew. The comfort pot. The recipe that uses whatever chicken is in the refrigerator and whatever rice is the leftover of Monday and turns it into a meal for four with broth enough to refill a bowl twice. The sofrito I pulled from the freezer — my August batch is holding up well, good color, full aroma, still aggressive — and I added tomato sauce and olives and a splash of sherry, which is not traditional but which I have added for twenty years and which makes the thing.

Mami came Wednesday. She ate a full bowl. She said, "This is the comfort food." Simple sentence. Real praise. I took it.

Thursday at work I had a hard conversation with Gladys. I told her I was thinking about retirement, probably by next summer, maybe by June. I told her she should start preparing. She nodded. She did not look surprised. She said, "I have been ready for five years." I said, "I know. I just was not." She hugged me — Gladys is a hugger; I am not a hugger; I returned the hug because you do not reject a Gladys hug — and we both stood in the back office and cried a little, professionally, and then went back to work.

Eduardo knows. I told him at dinner Thursday night. I said, "I am thinking June." He said, "June is good." No drama. No speech. The man operates on bandwidth I do not have access to. He has been waiting ten years for this decision and he responded to it with two words and a slight nod. Thirty-four years of marriage and I still do not know how he manages it.

Friday Sofía came over exhausted from a twelve-hour clinical day. I fed her pernil sandwiches from the Monday leftovers — pernil is always somewhere in the refrigerator in this house, frozen or fresh or aging gracefully into sandwich territory — and she ate two and fell asleep on the couch for an hour. When she woke up she said, "Ma, am I crazy for doing this?" I said, "You are not crazy, mija. You are a nurse. Or you will be. The school is supposed to break you a little. That is how you know it is working." She nodded. She ate a third sandwich. She drove home. Wepa.

The asopao was Wednesday’s answer. But the week kept asking questions, and by the time Sofía had driven home full and Eduardo had said his two-word yes to June and I had stood in the back office crying professionally with Gladys, I needed one more night at the stove — something that moves low and slow and smells like it means something. Carnitas with orzo and peppers in a red mole is that recipe for me: the pork braises itself into something generous, the mole does the heavy lifting on flavor, and you end up with a pot that could feed whoever walks through the door, which in this house is always a real possibility. It is not asopao. It is its own thing. It is enough.

Carnitas With Orzo And Peppers In Red Mole Sauce

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 2 hours 30 minutes | Total Time: 2 hours 50 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 2 1/2 lbs boneless pork shoulder, cut into 2-inch chunks
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt, divided
  • 1 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1 teaspoon dried oregano
  • 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
  • 2 tablespoons neutral oil
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 red bell pepper, seeded and sliced into strips
  • 1 yellow bell pepper, seeded and sliced into strips
  • 1 cup red mole sauce (jarred or prepared)
  • 2 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken broth, divided
  • 1 1/4 cups dry orzo pasta
  • 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
  • Fresh cilantro, for serving
  • Sour cream or crema, for serving (optional)

Instructions

  1. Season the pork. Pat the pork shoulder chunks dry with paper towels. In a bowl, toss with 1 teaspoon salt, cumin, oregano, and black pepper until evenly coated.
  2. Brown the carnitas. Heat the oil in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Working in batches to avoid crowding, sear the pork on all sides until deeply browned, about 3 to 4 minutes per side. Transfer seared pieces to a plate and set aside.
  3. Build the base. Reduce heat to medium. Add the onion to the same pot and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
  4. Add peppers and mole. Add the sliced red and yellow bell peppers to the pot and stir to combine. Pour in the red mole sauce and 1 1/2 cups of the chicken broth, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot.
  5. Braise the pork. Return the seared pork and any accumulated juices to the pot. Bring to a gentle simmer, then reduce heat to low. Cover and braise until the pork is fork-tender and beginning to pull apart, about 2 hours. Check occasionally and add a splash of broth if the pot looks dry.
  6. Shred and add orzo. Use two forks to roughly shred the pork directly in the pot into large pieces — you want chunks, not fine shreds. Stir in the remaining 1 cup of chicken broth and the dry orzo. Increase heat to medium, cover, and cook until the orzo is tender and has absorbed most of the liquid, about 12 to 14 minutes, stirring once halfway through.
  7. Finish and serve. Stir in the lime juice and remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt. Taste and adjust seasoning. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh cilantro and a spoonful of sour cream or crema if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 540 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 23g | Carbs: 42g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 710mg

Carmen Delgado-Ortiz
About the cook who shared this
Carmen Delgado-Ortiz
Week 323 of Carmen’s 30-year story · Hartford, Connecticut
Carmen is a sixty-year-old retired hospital cafeteria manager, a grandmother of eight, and a Puerto Rican woman who survived Hurricane María in 2017 and rebuilt her life in Hartford, Connecticut, with nothing but her mother's sofrito recipe and the kind of determination that only comes from watching everything you own get washed away. She cooks arroz con pollo, pernil, and pasteles for every holiday, and her kitchen is always open because in Carmen's world, nobody eats alone.

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