Pork Chop Dinner for Two

Valentine's Day week. Kevin and I don't do Valentine's Day the way people who try do it — no restaurants, no roses, no pressure. We've been married fifteen years and we've settled into the Valentine's Day of the long-married, which is Kevin bringing home a card that says something corny and me making a nice dinner and both of us being in bed by nine-thirty because love after fifteen years is comfortable and comfort looks like sleep.

The card: it had a cow on it. The cow was holding a heart. The inside said, "You're UDDER-ly amazing." Kevin was proud of this selection. He grinned when I opened it. He has the humor of a man who was raised on farm puns and has never evolved beyond them, and I love him for it in a way that is specific and permanent and probably unexplainable to anyone who didn't marry a man who thinks cow jokes are the height of comedy.

I made filet mignon — the Valentine's Day dinner, the one splurge of the year. Two filets, reverse-seared the way I do Kevin's birthday steak, with a blue cheese compound butter (my addition — butter mixed with crumbled blue cheese, herbs, and a pinch of salt, chilled and sliced onto the hot steak so it melts into a pool of richness that makes Kevin close his eyes when he eats it). Roasted asparagus. Baked potatoes. A bottle of wine that cost more than I usually spend but which was worth it because Valentine's Day is the excuse and the steak is the reason and the blue cheese butter is the love language.

The kids got heart-shaped sugar cookies — leftover from the batch I made for Emma's class party, re-frosted in red and pink. Noah said, "Valentine's Day is a commercial holiday." He's thirteen and he's already a cynic about love, which is developmentally appropriate and personally alarming. Emma said, "Valentine's Day is about expressing appreciation." She gave her brothers handmade valentines. Jack gave Emma a seed packet labeled, "From your garden brother." The seed packet contained marigold seeds, which are companion plants for tomatoes, which means Jack gave his sister a gift that was also an agricultural investment. The boy cannot separate love from gardening. I understand this completely.

The filet mignon is our once-a-year splurge, but the spirit of that dinner — two people, one good bottle of wine, something that takes a little extra effort because the person across the table is worth it — is something we try to carry into the rest of the year too. If you want that same quiet-night-in energy without the steakhouse price tag, this Pork Chop Dinner for Two is the recipe I reach for: scaled perfectly for two, substantial enough to feel like a celebration, and special enough that no one needs a restaurant to feel seen.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 2

Ingredients

2 bone-in pork chops (about 1 inch thick, roughly 8 oz each)
1 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp smoked paprika
1/2 tsp onion powder
1/2 tsp dried thyme
Salt and black pepper to taste
2 tbsp unsalted butter, divided
2 cloves garlic, smashed
2 sprigs fresh rosemary
1/2 cup chicken broth
1 tbsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp honey
1 tbsp heavy cream
Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

Season the chops. Pat pork chops dry with paper towels. In a small bowl, combine garlic powder, smoked paprika, onion powder, thyme, salt, and pepper. Rub the spice mixture evenly over both sides of each chop.
Sear. Heat olive oil in a heavy skillet (cast iron works best) over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add pork chops and sear without moving them for 4–5 minutes per side, until a deep golden crust forms and the internal temperature reaches 140°F.
Baste. In the last 2 minutes of cooking, add 1 tbsp butter, the smashed garlic cloves, and rosemary sprigs to the pan. Tilt the pan slightly and spoon the foamy butter over the chops repeatedly as they finish cooking.
Rest. Transfer pork chops to a plate and tent loosely with foil. Let rest for 5 minutes while you make the pan sauce.
Build the pan sauce. Pour off all but about 1 tsp of fat from the skillet. Over medium heat, add the chicken broth and scrape up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Whisk in the Dijon mustard and honey. Simmer for 2–3 minutes until slightly reduced, then stir in the remaining 1 tbsp butter and the heavy cream. Cook another minute until the sauce coats the back of a spoon. Season with salt and pepper.
Serve. Plate the pork chops and spoon the pan sauce generously over the top. Garnish with fresh parsley. Serve immediately alongside roasted asparagus, baked potatoes, or whatever makes the person across the table close their eyes when they eat it.

Nutrition (per serving)

Pork Chop Dinner for Two — The Valentine’s Day We Actually Pulled Off