Chili Verde {Mexican Stewed Pork}

New Year's Day. I heated up Gloria's menudo at seven AM while the house was still quiet — the kids asleep, Lisa asleep, the whole city asleep because normal people don't eat tripe soup at dawn on a holiday. But this is the tradition. January first, menudo, the soup that cures what ails you. I don't have a hangover to cure — haven't had one in sixteen years, won't have one ever again — but I stood at the stove stirring red chile broth with hominy and honeycomb tripe and oregano, and the steam hit my face and it smelled like Gloria's kitchen, like every New Year's morning of my childhood, and that's the cure I need. Not for alcohol. For distance.

Diego came downstairs at eight, drawn by the smell the way I used to be drawn by the smell at his age. He looked in the pot and said, "What is that." Not a question. An accusation. I told him it was menudo. He said, "It looks weird." I said, "It is weird. Eat it anyway." He ate half a bowl with a tortilla and pronounced it "okay," which from a nine-year-old is a standing ovation. Sofia came down, examined the menudo with scientific interest, asked what tripe was, and when I told her, she made a face and ate cereal. The twins ate cereal because they are three and cereal is the only reliable constant in their lives.

Monday was back to reality. School doesn't start until next week, but I was at the school by seven for offseason meetings. Weight room schedule, spring practice planning, film review from the playoff loss. I've watched the Valor Christian game four times now and each time the contain breakdown on the edge looks worse. We need a better scheme for mobile quarterbacks. I need a faster outside linebacker. I need to stop watching this film before Lisa stages an intervention.

Lisa went back to work on Tuesday. ER on the second of January is its own special chaos — the holidays produce injuries on a delay, like people wait until the tree is down to finally fall off the ladder they fell off a week ago. She came home tired. I had green chile chicken soup on the stove — rotisserie chicken shredded into broth with roasted green chile, white beans, a squeeze of lime. Simple. Warm. The kind of soup that says: I know you're tired, sit down, I've got this.

The new year is here and it looks a lot like the old year, which is fine by me. Same kitchen, same family, same pot on the stove. You don't need a new life. You need to keep feeding the one you've got.

Feed your people. The game is won at the table.

That soup I made for Lisa on Tuesday—rotisserie chicken, green chile, white beans—reminded me that the best cooking isn’t about impressing anyone, it’s about saying “I see you” without making a speech about it. But when I have the time and the pork shoulder is sitting in the fridge, I take that same green chile instinct and let it go somewhere slower and deeper: chili verde, the kind that braises for two hours until the pork gives up and becomes something else entirely. Here’s how I make it.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 2 hrs | Total Time: 2 hrs 20 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs pork shoulder, trimmed and cut into 1-inch cubes
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1 medium white onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano (Mexican oregano preferred)
8 oz roasted green chiles, chopped (Hatch or Anaheim; canned works fine)
2 medium tomatillos, husked and roughly chopped (or 4 oz canned)
3 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 can (15 oz) white beans or hominy, drained and rinsed
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
Fresh cilantro, warm flour tortillas, and sour cream, for serving

Instructions

Brown the pork. Pat pork cubes dry and season with salt and pepper. Heat oil in a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Brown pork in batches, 3—4 minutes per side, until a golden crust forms. Do not crowd the pan. Transfer to a plate and set aside.
Build the base. Reduce heat to medium. Add onion to the same pot and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5 minutes until softened. Add garlic, cumin, and oregano; cook 1 minute until fragrant.
Add the green chile and tomatillos. Stir in roasted green chiles and tomatillos. Cook 2—3 minutes, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot.
Simmer low and slow. Return the pork and any resting juices to the pot. Pour in chicken broth. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 1 hour 30 minutes, until pork is fork-tender and the broth has deepened in color.
Add the beans. Stir in white beans or hominy and cook uncovered for an additional 15 minutes to let the stew thicken slightly.
Finish and season. Stir in lime juice. Taste and adjust salt as needed. The lime lifts everything — don’t skip it.
Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with fresh cilantro and a spoonful of sour cream. Warm tortillas on the side are not optional.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chili Verde {Mexican Stewed Pork} — The Soup That Says Sit Down, I’ve Got This