Cuban-Style Pork Chops

Father's Day. Year Two. And this time, I feel it differently. Last year I was a father of one, with Sofia toddling around and the idea of fatherhood still feeling new and slightly surreal. This year I'm about to be a father of two, and fatherhood doesn't feel new anymore. It feels foundational. Like something that was always true about me, even before Sofia was born — I just didn't know it yet.

We went to my parents' house. Of course we did. Father's Day is Roberto's day, the same way Mother's Day is Elena's, and in the Rivera family, you honor your parents by showing up at their house and letting them feed you, which is a paradox I've never fully untangled but which works. My dad was at the grill by the time we arrived — noon, which for Roberto is sleeping in — wearing the "World's Best Dad" apron and the new tongs I bought him last year, which he has used so frequently that the grip is already wearing smooth.

I gave him a gift this year: a custom cutting board made from mesquite wood by a woodworker in Tempe. The board has "RIVERA" burned into one corner and a small Maltese cross — the firefighter symbol — burned into the other. It's beautiful. It's heavy. It smells like the desert. My dad held it and ran his hand over the surface the way he touches things he loves: slowly, with his full attention. "This is too nice to use," he said. "Dad, it's a cutting board. Use it." He'll use it. He'll use it every day and it'll develop knife marks and stains and character, and in twenty years it'll look like it's been through a war, and he'll love it more then than he does now. That's how Rivera men love things: through use, not preservation.

Jessica made a card for me from Sofia — a construction paper fold-out with Sofia's handprints (paint, everywhere) and the words "Happy Father's Day to the Best Daddy and the Best Chef" in Jessica's handwriting. Below that, in smaller letters: "From Sofia and Diego (coming soon!)." I read it at the kitchen table and had to put it down and walk to the backyard because I was going to cry and I prefer to cry near the grill where no one can tell if it's smoke or emotion. It's always both.

Dinner was simple: Roberto's carne asada, my mom's guacamole, rice, beans. The food that has been on this table for every important moment of my life. I sat next to my dad and he sat next to my mom and Sofia sat on Elena's lap eating rice with her hands and Jessica sat with her belly pressed against the table, Diego kicking from inside, and I thought: next Father's Day, there will be two children at this table. Two. One for each hand. One for each knee. A daughter who draws fire trucks and a son who isn't born yet but who I already love with a fierceness that surprises me every day.

My dad and I cleared the table together. Side by side at the sink, washing dishes. He washed, I dried. We didn't talk. We never do, during the dishes. The running water is the conversation. The proximity is the point. Just show up. Even for the dishes. Especially for the dishes.

My dad’s carne asada isn’t a recipe he’ll ever write down — it lives in his hands and his timing and thirty years of standing at the same grill. But after sitting at that table with Jessica and Sofia and the ghost of Diego-not-yet-born, I wanted to carry some version of that fire into my own kitchen, something I could put my hands on and make mine. These Cuban-style pork chops hit the same notes: citrus, garlic, a hard sear, and the kind of simplicity that only looks easy because someone loved you enough to teach it.

Prep Time: 15 min (plus 1 hr marinating) | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 1 hr 30 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 bone-in pork chops (about 3/4 inch thick)
1/3 cup fresh orange juice
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)
Fresh cilantro and lime wedges, for serving

Instructions

Make the marinade. In a bowl or zip-top bag, whisk together the orange juice, lime juice, garlic, olive oil, cumin, oregano, smoked paprika, black pepper, salt, and red pepper flakes until combined.
Marinate the chops. Add the pork chops to the marinade, turning to coat. Seal and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, or up to 8 hours for deeper flavor. Do not marinate longer than 8 hours — the citrus will begin to break down the texture.
Prepare the grill. Heat an outdoor grill or grill pan to medium-high heat. Lightly oil the grates. Remove the chops from the marinade and let any excess drip off. Discard remaining marinade.
Grill the chops. Place the pork chops on the grill. Cook 6–7 minutes per side, or until the internal temperature reaches 145°F (63°C) and grill marks are well developed. Resist the urge to move them — let the sear build.
Rest and serve. Transfer chops to a cutting board and rest for 5 minutes. Serve with fresh cilantro, lime wedges, rice, and black beans.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cuban-Style Pork Chops — For the Dads Who Love Through Use, Not Preservation