May. The pandemic continues. I continue. The line runs. The apartment is empty again — the kids went back to Brianna's, to Gloria's house, to the other address. The silence returned like a tenant who never moved out but was just visiting somewhere else. I stand in the kitchen and the silence is the loudest thing in the room.
I have been cooking with purpose. Not for the kids (they are not here) and not for Brianna (she is gone) but for myself. For the man I became through food. The cooking is not therapy — therapy requires another person to listen. The cooking is more like meditation: the repetitive, focused act of making something from nothing, of transforming raw ingredients into a meal, of feeding yourself when no one else will.
This week I made: smothered pork chops (my recipe, my gravy, my technique — ninety percent of Mama's now), gumbo (fifth attempt, the best, the roux like chocolate, the shrimp like butter), fried chicken (fourth attempt, eighty-five percent, the crust crisper, the seasoning deeper), and banana bread (always good, always comforting, always the smell of a kitchen that is loved).
I ate alone. Every meal. At the table, not the counter — I made myself a rule: eat at the table, with a plate, like a person who values the meal and the man eating it. The counter is for cooking. The table is for eating. The distinction matters because dignity matters, and eating standing up at the counter was the behavior of a man who was giving up, and I am not giving up. I am cooking. I am eating. I am sitting at the table. I am alive.
Sunday dinner at Mama's. Just the three of us — me, Mama, Dad. Dad is weaker. The pandemic has kept him home, away from his daily walks, away from the plant (he retired fully last year), away from the activity that kept his body moving. He sits in the recliner and watches the Tigers (there are no Tigers — the season is delayed — but he watches old games on YouTube). Mama cooks. I eat. The table that held twenty holds three, and the three of us fill it with silence and food and the stubborn refusal to let a pandemic or a divorce or a declining father stop us from eating dinner together on Sunday.
The pork chops kept coming back to me that week — not because they were the flashiest thing I made, but because they demanded the most from me. Getting the technique right, coaxing a glaze that had both sweetness and depth, plating it on a real dish at a real table — that was the work, and the work was worth doing. This Teriyaki Pineapple & Pork Chops recipe isn’t Mama’s smothered version, but it’s mine, and that’s exactly the point. You eat at the table. Like a person who values the meal and the man eating it.
Teriyaki Pineapple & Pork Chops
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 4 bone-in pork chops, about 1 inch thick
- 1 can (20 oz) pineapple rings, juice reserved
- 1/3 cup low-sodium soy sauce
- 2 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
- 2 tablespoons honey
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
- 1 tablespoon cornstarch
- 2 tablespoons cold water
- 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- 2 green onions, thinly sliced (for garnish)
- 1 teaspoon sesame seeds (for garnish)
Instructions
- Build the glaze. In a small bowl, whisk together the soy sauce, reserved pineapple juice, brown sugar, honey, garlic, and ginger. In a separate small bowl, stir the cornstarch into the cold water until smooth, then stir that slurry into the glaze mixture. Set aside.
- Season the chops. Pat pork chops dry with paper towels — this is what gets you a proper sear. Season both sides generously with salt and black pepper.
- Sear. Heat the vegetable oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add the pork chops and sear without moving them for 3 to 4 minutes per side until deep golden brown. Transfer to a plate; they will finish in the sauce.
- Start the sauce. Pour the glaze mixture into the same skillet. Bring to a simmer over medium heat, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom. Stir and cook 2 to 3 minutes until the sauce begins to thicken and coat a spoon.
- Return the chops. Nestle the seared pork chops back into the skillet. Lay one pineapple ring over each chop and spoon the bubbling sauce over everything.
- Finish low and slow. Reduce heat to low, cover the skillet, and cook 10 to 12 minutes until the pork reaches an internal temperature of 145°F and the sauce has reduced to a glossy glaze.
- Rest and plate. Transfer chops to plates and let rest 3 minutes. Spoon remaining sauce from the pan over each chop. Garnish with sliced green onions and sesame seeds. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 375 | Protein: 31g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 33g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 870mg
About the cook who shared this
DeShawn Carter
Week 199 of DeShawn’s 30-year story
· Detroit, Michigan
DeShawn is a thirty-six-year-old single dad, auto plant worker, and a man who didn't learn to cook until his wife left and his five-year-old asked, "Daddy, can you cook something?" He called his mama, who came over with two bags of groceries and spent six months teaching him the basics. Now he's the dad at the cookout who brings the ribs, the guy at the plant whose leftover gumbo starts fights, and living proof that it's never too late to learn.