Sriracha-Rubbed Pork Tenderloin

A year or so ago, I bought a fresh pineapple for the sole purpose of making a recipe I had been dying to try — a boneless pork butt slathered in Sriracha and slow roasted for hours on a bed of pineapple. It turned out pretty amazing, a tangy combination of sweet, spicy and sour.

While I loved the flavor, the leftovers turned out to be slightly dry because of the cooking process. The meat ends up glazed and tender, but it lacks a sauce to help keep it moist upon reheating. And even though we are, as I like to put it, “professional eaters,” my husband and I couldn’t polish off the whole six-pound piece in one sitting.

So, since I had recently been daydreaming about the dish, I decided to make it again using a pork tenderloin instead. The key difference is that the pork butt needed to roast for a long time at low temperature to be tender, whereas the tenderloin would be tender cooked to medium-rare. I figured this would offer more forgiveness for the leftovers.

Pineapple cooked in sugar and vinegar

I kept the same preparation, cutting the meat in a spiral and rubbing it with spices and Sriracha before tying it up in kitchen twine. Since the cooking time was dramatically reduced, I started off the pineapple (tossed with equal parts brown sugar and apple cider vinegar) a good hour beforehand.

Once the pineapple was tender and fragrant (and, oh man, it smelled so good!), I placed the tenderloin on top, and let it roll. About 20 minutes later, I opened my oven and was greeted to the most beautiful sight:

Pretty glorious, right?

The pork was crazy tender and had the same awesome sweet and spicy profile of the original. The only downfall was the texture. This cut of meat needs a contrast, a crunchy outside to balance the tender inside. I might pan-sear it next time before rubbing the outside with the Sriracha, getting a nice dark crust on the meat.

But all in all, I absolutely loved it. My husband, on the other hand, told me he liked the first version better. He finds the tenderloin (one of my favorite cuts because of its leanness) mushy and liked the slight chew of the pork butt better.

So I guess I’m going to continue tweaking this one because I love the flavors so much. Every bite that was coated in Sriracha had me reaching for another sweet, sour and juicy bite of pineapple to tame the heat. I could have married this dinner. For reals.

Until I try it again, here’s what I did:

Jessamine’s Sriracha-Rubbed Pork Tenderloin

• Kosher salt and black pepper
• 1 tsp smoked hot paprika
• 1 tsp onion powder
• 1 tsp garlic powder
• A pork tenderloin, around 1-2#
• 1/8 cup or so Sriracha
• One 2-pound ripe pineapple—peeled, cored and cut into 1-inch pieces
• 1 cup light brown sugar
• 1 cup apple cider vinegar

Mix salt, paprika and onion and garlic powders.

Cut pork into a basic spiral, don’t get to crazy just get it flat. Sprinkle the spice mixture all over the pork, then rub all over with the Sriracha. Roll up the roast and tie it at 1-inch intervals with kitchen twine; let marinate at room temperature for 2 hours.

While it’s marinating, preheat the oven to 325°. In a large roasting pan, toss the pineapple with the brown sugar and vinegar. Roast for 1-2 hours, tossing fruit gently every thirty minutes or so.

Once it’s tender and delicious, place the pork on top of the pineapple and return to oven. Roast until done, around 20 minutes, basting 3-4 times.

If there’s a lot of liquid at the bottom on the pan, remove pork and set the roasting pan over high heat and boil until the juices are slightly thickened. Once the meat has rested, carve and serve with rice.

Yum!

Wild hibiscus flowers liven up a glass of bubbly!

One of my favorite things to do is host parties, and over the years, I’ve learned it’s usually the small things that make a get-together memorable. Whether it’s creative party invitations, fun party snacks or curiously carbonated cocktails, it seems like it’s often the little details that will stick in someone’s mind for days afterward. Therefore I’m constantly on the hunt for the strange and unusual, little things — generally of the culinary persuasion — to bring out at my next party to surprise guests with.

So when I heard about these Wild Hibiscus Flowers in Syrup a few years ago, I was immediately obsessed with them. Unable to find them in town, I went online and ordered six or seven jars at once. A few I gifted to friends who also share a love for interesting treasures and the rest I hoarded in my pantry to break out whenever the mood hit.

While they aren’t a new trend by any stretch, these hibiscus flowers are certainly still fun to experiment with. They add a festive detail to any party, and are particularly perfect as an ice breaker during aperitifs. (That sentence made me feel like I just channeled Martha Stewart!) But honestly, even if you’ve grown accustomed to these flowers like I have, they never lose their luster.

And the best part is that they require no more effort than this:

Start with a hibiscus flower from the jar. They feel like a gummy candy crossed with a fruit leather, and they kind of remind me of these piranha plants from Super Mario Bros.

Wild Hibiscus Flowers

Place in bottom of champagne flute, feel free to add an extra drizzle of the syrup too.

They look a little creepy from the top!

Add bubbles. I always opt for an inexpensive bottle of bubbly when I use these flowers. The syrup gives the wine a subtle floral flavor and even though it’s lovely, you wouldn’t want to compromise the beauty of a high-quality bottle.

The bubbles from the wine will unfurl the petals of the flowers ever so gently, creating a steady stream from their tips.

Another reason not to use the good stuff is you always spill when you’re trying to pour it and take pictures at the same time…that does happen to everyone, right? Bueller?

And when you’ve finished your glass, nibble on the flower — it has a slightly perfumed flavor, tinged with raspberry and rhubarb. Or just relax, pour yourself a refill and wait for the sun to set.

Enjoying my own personal garden party…Cheers!

Growing up on an island in Alaska before the popularity of the Food Network meant my window in the culinary world was very limited. The most exotic foods that I remember eating as a kid were lumpia and “meat-on-a-stick” (likely a version on bulgogi) that some of the Filipino families would sell each summer at the annual Crab Festival.

I had certainly never heard of pesto and the first time I was confronted with it while visiting Italian relatives in Vancouver, BC, I was very suspicious. It didn’t seem right to coat pasta in anything besides the familiar red of marinara.

But once I tasted the garlicky herbaceous green sauce, I was sold. After that moment, one of my all-time favorite dinners as a teenager became linguine tossed with broccoli and pesto. I would get so excited when my mom would make it that I would hoard the leftovers to eat for lunch the next day. I still do this actually, old habits die hard.

As an adult, I’ve learned all the different variations one can do with pesto. I’ve made it with broccoli, watercress and arugula, and garlic scapes — all with equally delicious success. Besides the traditional pine nut, I’ve used everything from walnuts to sunflower seeds. So when I saw the June cover of Bon Appetit, featuring a gorgeous plate of pasta in pesto sauce, that was the first recipe I turned to. And there I found a twist I hadn’t yet made: parsley pesto with roasted almonds.

Ok, Bon Appetit, challenge accepted.

The pesto came together quickly, within a minute or two using our Vitamix. I bought the almonds as recommended, unsalted and roasted, so besides washing some parsley and grating some Parmesan, there was hardly any prep to do. This was a serious bonus as I had worked late and come home hungry.

I could feel my excitement rising when I spooned the sauce into a bowl, marveling at its vibrancy. Look at how gorgeous it turned out:

Parsley Almond Pesto

While I wanted to make the recipe exactly as written, I had no dried spaghetti on hand. I did, however, have a bag of fresh pappardelle looking for a good time. Once it was cooked to al dente, I tossed it in a big bowl with the pesto, using reserved pasta water to help bind the two together.

It’s looking a little naked…

More cheese is usually a good idea!

So how was it?

I loved it! I know, I know, I’m so predictable. But here’s why I loved it compared to other pestos I’ve made. First off, you can’t beat the price. Every time I buy fresh basil, I cry a little inside at how expensive it is. Parsley, on the other hand, is affordable and unlike other herbs, stores seem to have a never-ending supply of it. And no matter what the season, it always looks relatively perky and fresh.

The freshness carries over to the flavor — this pesto was herbal but not overpowering. It didn’t have any bitterness to tame, it was just light, bright and refreshing — the perfect pesto to nudge us into summer.

And while it’s more than fine on its own, its easy-going nature makes this pesto a perfect backdrop for any seasonal vegetables. The following night I tossed the leftovers with blanched asparagus and broccoli, and it was fabulous. In fact, I ate this three times in three days and still managed to be actually sad when I got to the last noodle.

A plate full of pretty

It goes without saying, I’ll be whipping up another batch very soon!

Just for kicks, here’s a picture I took of my “photography station.” In the summer months, I like to use as much natural light as possible and so I’m constantly running from the kitchen to the yard, arms laden with bowls, spatulas, tongs and spoons, ready to snap a few pictures. Every once in a while, I get hit by a wave of awareness at how ridiculous this must seem. I’m sure my neighbors think I’m crazy.

Behind the scenes…

Having been on a steady diet of rum-based cocktails for three days prior, I decided to branch out and order a gin fizz.

This is what was set in front of me:

Gin Fizz in St. Barth’s — note the empty space between the lime slice and the gin

The top part was almost like a lime sorbet, as opposed to the more traditional frothed egg white. But what really caught my eye was the placement of the lime slice. It was perfectly positioned in the center of the glass, keeping the contents of the cocktail separate.

When I moved the lime with the straw, breaking through the barrier and letting the layers collide, there was a serious fizz up that made me giggle like a little kid. While the taste was also spot on, the presentation of this cocktail alone made it my favorite of the whole trip. It was exactly the type of drink to be sipping on in such a chichi locale.

In fact, I loved it so much I ordered two more of them — it seemed like the right thing to do.

We did do some other stuff in St. Barth’s besides drink, I swear. We went snorkeling, had lunch and took a tour of the island. See…evidence:

One of the beaches — the day was a little overcast but it was still gorgeous.

Anyways, we’ve been back now for a month and the last week of work has been so stressful, I’ve been experiencing severe vacation withdrawal. We’ve also been enjoying a serious heat-wave here in Portland the past few days, so it seemed like the perfect time to try to recreate this dreamy drink at home.

My husband was kind enough to make me a batch of supremely awesome lime sorbet. It’s crazy good — tart and tangy, only slightly sweet and totally refreshing. I can’t keep my hands off of it. Luckily I had enough to whip up one of these last night and let me say — it was a home run!

I may not be in the Caribbean, but with one of these in my hands I can easily pretend.

Pretty good replica, don’t you think?

In the bottom of a champagne flute, I mixed a generous shot of gin with lime zest, a squeeze of lime juice and a glug of seltzer water. Next came the slice of lime (carefully squished in) and then the sorbet. If you don’t have any homemade sorbet — I’m trying to get my husband to write down the recipe he used — head to the store immediately. This is worth it.