March turning into April. The light is lengthening — fourteen hours now, the sun climbing, the breakup happening across the state, the ice cracking, the rivers swelling, Alaska crying its way into spring. My birthday approaches. Thirty-three. Jesus year, Angela would joke. Six years since the floor. Almost seven. The math of the years is large and small simultaneously — six years is a long time and also nothing, the distance between the floor and the table measured in years but experienced in minutes, the minutes of each day when I choose to stand instead of fall, to cook instead of collapse, to sit at the table instead of on the floor.
The cookbook discussion is scheduled for next week — a call with the editor, a conversation about the book, the first time I'll talk to someone outside my life about the life that is the book. The anticipation is specific — not ER anticipation (fear-based, adrenaline-driven) but creative anticipation (hope-based, stomach-fluttering, the kind of anticipation that makes you clean your apartment and reorganize your spice shelf for the fourth time).
I made pork adobo — the dark version, the braised version, the rich adobo for approaching birthdays and approaching phone calls and approaching springs. The sauce reduced to a glaze, dark and thick and almost sweet. The richness matched the moment — the thickening of things, the concentration, the approach of something that will change the recipe of my life.
I reached for this recipe the same week I made the adobo — spring produce arriving just as the rivers were breaking, rhubarb showing up at the co-op like a small red announcement. The Dijon-rubbed pork with rhubarb sauce felt like the next page of the same meal: still rich, still concentrated, but with that bright, tart edge that the season insists on. It’s what I’ll make the night of the call with the editor — something that asks you to pay attention while it cooks, something that rewards the waiting.
Dijon-Rubbed Pork with Rhubarb Sauce
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs pork tenderloin
- 3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1 teaspoon dried thyme
- 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- For the rhubarb sauce:
- 2 cups fresh rhubarb, sliced into 1/2-inch pieces
- 1/3 cup granulated sugar
- 1/4 cup chicken broth
- 1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
- 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves
- Pinch of salt
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 425°F. Pat the pork tenderloin dry with paper towels and place it on a cutting board.
- Make the Dijon rub. In a small bowl, whisk together the Dijon mustard, garlic powder, dried thyme, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Rub the mixture evenly over all sides of the pork tenderloin.
- Sear the pork. Heat olive oil in an oven-safe skillet over medium-high heat. Add the pork and sear for 2–3 minutes per side until a golden crust forms, about 8 minutes total.
- Roast. Transfer the skillet to the preheated oven and roast for 18–22 minutes, until an instant-read thermometer inserted in the thickest part reads 145°F. Remove from the oven, tent loosely with foil, and rest for 5 minutes.
- Make the rhubarb sauce. While the pork rests, combine the rhubarb, sugar, chicken broth, apple cider vinegar, and a pinch of salt in a small saucepan over medium heat. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 8–10 minutes until the rhubarb breaks down and the sauce thickens to a loose jam consistency. Stir in the fresh thyme leaves.
- Slice and serve. Slice the pork tenderloin into 1/2-inch medallions and arrange on a serving platter. Spoon the warm rhubarb sauce generously over the top.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 35g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 480mg